JASON’S POV
Yeah. Today was hell.
After my assistant finally showed up with a new suit, it took fifteen damn minutes to get dressed. Normally, it would take thirty, but after last night? I was paranoid.
Every creak in the house made freeze, wondering if Ella was awake yet. If she had realized she had slept in my shirt. If she had connected the dots and was storming down the hall to rip apart.
By so miracle, I made it out of the house alive.
But work?
Work was no better.
My company was bleeding money.
Why?
Because my beloved wife—Ella the nace Kingsley—had hacked into my accounts and donated a ridiculous amount of resources to charity.
Anonymously.
Which ant the entire business world was currently praising LBJ Corp. for its generosity while I was sitting here stressing over budget cuts.
Did I support charity? Yes.
Did I support my company going bankrupt? Hell no.
And the worst part? I couldn’t even tell anyone it was Ella.
Because what was I supposed to say?
"Oh yeah, my wife, the woman who wants to destroy , thought it would be fun to donate millions behind my back just to ss with ."
Yeah. No.
So here I was, sitting at my desk, rubbing my temples as my finance team rushed around in panic mode.
"Sir," one of them stamred, "we’re still trying to locate the exact source of the transfer, but—it’s like it just... disappeared."
Of course, it disappeared.
This was Ella we were talking about.
"Find a way to recover so of the losses." I sighed. "If possible."
Possible. Ha. I already knew the answer to that.
She had made sure that money was gone for good.
Damn it.
My marriage was a war zone.
And in this war?
I was losing.
Yeah. Today was hell.
After my assistant finally showed up with a new suit, it took fifteen damn minutes to get dressed. Normally, it would take five, but after last night? I was paranoid.
Every creak in the house made freeze, wondering if Ella was awake yet. If she had realized she had slept in my shirt. If she had connected the dots and was storming down the hall to rip apart.
By so miracle, I made it out of the house alive.
But work?
Work was no better.
My company was bleeding money.
Why?
Because my beloved wife—Ella the nace Kingsley—had hacked into my accounts and donated a ridiculous amount of resources to charity.
Anonymously.
Which ant the entire business world was currently praising LBJ Corp. for its generosity while I was sitting here stressing over budget cuts.
Did I support charity? Yes.
Did I support my company going bankrupt? Hell no.
And the worst part? I couldn’t even tell anyone it was Ella.
Because what was I supposed to say?
"Oh yeah, my wife, the woman who wants to destroy , thought it would be fun to donate millions behind my back just to ss with ."
Yeah. No.
So here I was, sitting at my desk, rubbing my temples as my finance team rushed around in panic mode.
"Sir," one of them stamred, "we’re still trying to locate the exact source of the transfer, but—it’s like it just... disappeared."
Of course, it disappeared.
This was Ella we were talking about.
"Find a way to recover so of the losses." I sighed. "If possible."
Possible. Ha. I already knew the answer to that.
She had made sure that money was gone for good.
Damn it.
My marriage was a war zone.
And in this war?
I was losing.
I hated this.
Every second of it.
Having to chip in money from my personal account to cover the losses Ella caused? That alone was frustrating. But what made it worse was where that money ca from.
The Kings’ inheritance.
I always swore my company, LBJ Corp., would be independent from my family’s wealth. It was supposed to be mine—sothing I built with my own hard work.
But now?
I had no choice.
Ella had wiped out millions in donations, and if I didn’t fix this fast, the entire company would start spiraling.
And the biggest problem?
Mr. Kingsley.
Yeah, Ella’s father.
The only Kingsley who was actually on my side.
He had invested in my company just a few months ago, showing his trust in , in my ability to handle business. If he found out that my company was bleeding money this soon after his investnt?
He would see as incompetent. Unworthy.
And then?
I’d lose the only Kingsley ally I had.
So yeah.
He couldn’t find out.
And I had to fix this. Fast.
Heck. This day was a nightmare.
etings left and right. Trying to contain the damage. Making sure the dia didn’t catch wind of the company’s sudden financial hole.
But was I lucky?
Nope.
Of course, so journalist sniffed sothing off. But by so miracle—or should I say, thanks to Ella’s ridiculous stunt—instead of backlash, I sohow ca out looking like a damn saint.
The charity organizer that received Ella’s anonymous donation? Yeah, they identified as the donor.
And just like that, my na was everywhere—
"Jason King, the youngest CEO with the biggest heart."
"Philanthropist Billionaire Jason King Sets an Example for the Elite."
I even got ssages from other businessn, offering partnerships because they saw as so charity-loving, responsible leader.
If only they knew.
If only they knew that I wasn’t out here trying to save the world—I was just trying to save my damn company from my own wife.
You’d think, "Oh, Jason had a good day. The dia praised him. His reputation soared. Everything worked out."
Wrong.
Because just when I thought I could breathe, the next trending news wasn’t about and my supposed big heart.
It was about my wife.
Yes. Ella.
The headline? "Kingsley Heiress Becos the Second Largest Shareholder of Black Enterprise!"
What the actual fuck?!
How? HOW?
When?
WHY?!
The Black Enterprise—my company’s biggest rival and yes also the Kingsley’s. The sa people who would sell their own grandmothers to see fail. And my dear, sweet, vengeful wife just waltzed in and took over almost half their damn shares?!
I felt the blood drain from my face.
I grabbed my phone so fast I nearly cracked the screen.
: "Ella. WHAT. THE. HELL. DID. YOU. DO?!"
Her reply?
Ella: "Oh, so you saw? Took you long enough. I thought you’d be smart enough to see it coming."
I swear to God, I nearly threw my phone at the wall. I hope she didn’t beco partners with them to sink my company.
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