Chapter 3The Boss I Left Behind

Mark Preston showed up very quickly.

Chloe softly called out, "Mark," before biting her lower lip and staring down at her shoes, playing the part of the poor, bullied victim perfectly.

"There's no need to make things so difficult for a young girl."

Mark frowned slightly, looking at me. His tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

Yeah, I was very familiar with this scene.

Before Mark and I divorced.

He had said similar things to me many times.

We were married for three years.

After he was promoted to Marketing Director, his relationship with his assistant, Chloe, became highly ambiguous.

I asked him to transfer her.

He thought I was being archaic and ridiculous.

"You sit in an office all day doing nothing. In Marketing, we have to socialize and look out for each other. It's totally normal. You don't have to be so threatened by a young girl!"

Once, he got drunk at a networking event. I drove to pick him up, and Chloe eagerly hopped into the backseat to "take care" of him.

While I was driving, she let out a sudden, short gasp. When I got out to check, her short skirt was flipped halfway up her thighs, exposing a blinding amount of skin.

I am a person with a very low tolerance for drama.

I was too lazy to catch them in the act, and too tired to argue. I just filed for divorce.

Mark had been full of sarcasm.

"Claire, if you're trying to use this little threat to keep me on a leash, you picked the wrong strategy. I don't respond to ultimatums."

"You're a divorced woman in her thirties, boring and completely rigid. You think you can find a man with even half my qualifications? If you do, I'll get on my knees right in front of the office building!"

We finalized the divorce papers quickly.

Unfortunately, we still worked at the same company.

We saw each other every single day.

He and Chloe were practically attached at the hip. He often intentionally coddled her right in front of me, always stepping up to defend her. His excuse was always: "She's in my department, of course I have to protect her."

I knew my colleagues whispered about me behind my back, marveling at how much I could tolerate.

Why didn't I just quit?

If it had been the me from a few years ago, I definitely would have felt too humiliated and disgusted to stay. I would have packed my bags and left.

But I was 33 now.

Age had given me a certain grounded strength.

I had worked my ass off to become the Director of Finance. Why should I be the one to quit?

Besides, they were the ones who should be embarrassed.

Not me.

Right now.

Mark tilted his head slightly, looking at me with that familiar, mocking smile.

"Constantly dragging a young girl into our personal issues is pretty pathetic, don't you think?"

I kept my face entirely blank. "Following company policy is making things difficult for her? Did I write the company's financial policy specifically to target her? Mark, is your brain starting to rot?"

He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"Fine. We'll let the new CEO make the call at the executive meeting tomorrow. But Claire…" He lowered his voice, his tone laced with a smug, victorious delight.

"Using these cheap tricks to try and get my attention and win me back… honestly, it's a little pathetic."