I never told my husband I owned a five-billion-dollar empire. To him, I was still “the useless housewife.” At his promotion party, he forced me to wear a maid’s uniform and serve drinks, while his mistress sat in the place of honor, wearing my jewelry. I kept my head down and served quietly—until his boss saw me and stopped cold.

Sterling finally stopped walking. He was standing three feet in front of Elena.

Mark blinked. Why was the CEO standing in front of his frumpy wife?

“Hey!” Mark yelled at Elena. “You! Get out of the way! You’re blocking Mr. Sterling’s path! Go… go get him a drink or something!”

Jessica grabbed the microphone on the podium. “Security! Please remove that woman in the black dress! She’s ruining the aesthetic!”

Elena didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She slowly reached up and removed the clip from her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders. She straightened her spine, seemingly growing three inches taller. The “housewife” posture vanished, replaced by the steel-reinforced stance of a titan.

She looked at Mark. She looked at Jessica. And then, she looked at Sterling.

Sterling adjusted his tie. Then, to the collective gasp of three hundred people, he bowed. Not a nod. A deep, ninety-degree bow of absolute subservience.

“Madam Chairman,” Sterling said, his voice amplified by the silence of the room. “We await your orders.”

Mark dropped the microphone. It hit the stage with a deafening thud.

“Chair… Chairman?” Mark stammered, his brain misfiring. “Who are you talking to?”