Erasing Audrey Croft

My wife, the CEO, had fallen for a grease monkey.

To fit in with his crew, she traded her chauffeured Maybach for the back of a motorcycle. Her collection of haute couture gowns was locked away, replaced by nine-dollar graphic tees with slogans like GET RICH OR DIE TRYING. The exclusive membership at the Sterling Club was swapped for a monthly tab at a dive bar on the wrong side of town.

I tried to reason with her. Have your fun, Audrey, but don't let it get out of hand, Id said, my voice low and steady over the phone. If you embarrass the family name, it reflects poorly on all of us.

She called me stale. Predictable.

Donovan, have you ever done one thing in your entire life just for yourself? Her voice was laced with a kind of pitying scorn. When Im with Jax and his friends, its the only time I feel free.

Then she blocked me.

I stared at the undelivered message, at the stark finality of it. A flicker of anger, hot and unfamiliar, coiled in my gut. Freedom? Was this what she called freedom? Trading a billion-dollar empire for cheap beer and asphalt?

I typed out one last message from my assistants phone, my patience worn to a thread. I dont care what kind of freedom you think youre chasing. But if you dishonor our families at the foundation gala in three days, were done. This marriage is over.

1

The message was marked as Read. No reply came.

Looking at the blank screen, the whole situation felt absurd. Audrey Croft was the perennial good girl, the dutiful daughter whose life had been a blueprint drawn by her parents. Shed married me the summer after graduating from Wharton, a union of holding companies, a merger of legacies sealed with a ring. For five years, we had been the picture of a modern power couple. The Crofts and the Shaws were more than satisfied. A stable marriage meant a stable alliance. On the back of our union, Audrey had been unofficially crowned the heir apparent to the Croft empire.

But then, a month ago, some grifter had thrown himself in front of her car in a clear insurance scam. Jax, the yellow-haired biker, happened to be there and played the hero, scaring the guy off. And just like that, it was as if Audrey had been put under a spell.

A part of me was hurt, Ill admit. But I could tolerate it. In the face of family legacy and market share, affection was merely a seasoning, not the main course.

I never imagined she would forget who she was. She started following Jax into his world of dingy bars and back-alley brawls. Smoking, fighting, even getting caught up in a petty shakedown of some college kids. I cleaned up her messes, quietly and efficiently, urging her to come home.

She responded with a quote that the tabloids ran with for a week: she would rather feel the wind on the back of Jaxs bike than be suffocated in the leather of a Maybach.

In the span of thirty days, Audrey Croft, the formidable CEO, had become a running joke. And I, by extension, was the punchline.

My phone buzzed, dragging me from my thoughts. It was my executive assistant, her voice tight with panic. Mr. Shaw, you need to see the news. How do we want to respond?

I opened the browser. The headline sent a shock of ice through my veins.

#CEOInLove: Society Heiress Gets Inked for Her Bad Boy#
#LoveThatCrossesTheTracks#

In the accompanying photo, Audrey was lying face down in a tattoo parlor, a triumphant smirk on her face. And there, emblazoned on the small of her back, were two words in a thick, blocky font that screamed cheap rebellion: JAXS GIRL.

Jax. That was his name.

Almost simultaneously, a call came through from the chairman of our board. My father.

Donovan, he began, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. Ive managed to kill the story on the major wires for now, but the gossip sites are having a field day. How you handle this next is up to you. He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was heavy. The Shaw family values its dignity above all else.

The line went dead. I gripped the phone, a hot flush creeping up my neck. I immediately buzzed my assistant.

Find Audrey Croft, I said, my voice dangerously calm. Use any means necessary. Bring her home.

Less than an hour later, Audrey was tossed into our living room, a burlap sack pulled unceremoniously from her head. She was spitting fire.

Do you have any idea who I am? she yelled, then her eyes focused on me and the fight seemed to drain out of her, replaced by sheer contempt. Seriously? You had me kidnapped? What happened to respecting a womans autonomy, Donovan?

She fished a crumpled cigarette from her pocket, lighting it with a practiced flick of a cheap lighter. She took a long, deliberate drag, then blew the smoke directly into my face.

So, she said, her voice dripping with insolence. What was so important?

I looked at herthe studded crop top revealing a sliver of her stomach, the ripped jeans, the smudged eyeliner. This was my wife? I didnt recognize the woman standing in front of me. For five years, wed been partners. Courteous. Professional. There was a distance between us, yes, but I had always treated her with respect, with a quiet concern I thought she appreciated. We were two well-cast actors, playing our parts in a long-running production. But somewhere along the way, I had started to believe in my role. My affection held a kernel of truth. Its why Id defended her, why Id cleaned up her messes without a word to her family.

But the stranger before me now made me question everything.

Seeing my silence, Audrey rolled her eyes. Look, if thats all, Ive got places to be. Im busy.

She turned to leave, the clunky soles of her platform boots thudding against the marble floor.

My father called me, I said finally.

The words stopped her cold. She turned back slowly, a flicker of apprehension in her eyes. What what did he say?

I pressed my lips into a thin line, a small measure of relief washing over me. So, she still cared. She still understood what was at stake. The lecture I had prepared died on my tongue, replaced by a softer, more familiar tone. A warning.

You need to make this scandal disappear, Audrey. If you dont, I cant protect you anymore.

I expected compliance. Instead, she exploded.

Because I got a tattoo? she shrieked, her voice cracking. I have spent my entire life doing exactly what Im told! Am I not allowed to have one thing for myself? Its my body! Why dont I get to have a say over my own body?

Her accusations hammered at me, and the dam of my composure finally broke. A week of swallowed anger and humiliation surged forth.

Of course, its your body! I roared, the sound echoing in the cavernous room. But you are Audrey Croft-Shaw! And you chose to tattoo another mans name on it! Have you forgotten? I am your husband!

She flinched as if struck. It was the first time I had ever raised my voice to her. The color drained from her face, leaving it pale and shocked.

After a long, tense silence, she took a shaky breath. A hint of her old self returned, laced with a newfound guilt.

Im sorry, she whispered. I just assumed in a family like ours, feelings werent part of the equation. She looked at me then, truly looked at me. Ill fix it. Ill come home. Im sorry I worried you.

Two days later, she kept her word.

When I walked through the door, she was sitting on the sofa in the grand parlor. Her dark hair fell in a silken sheet over her shoulders, and she wore a tasteful cashmere set that spoke of quiet luxury. She stood as I entered, her expression placid, her voice a cool, even monotone.

Donovan. The tattoo has been removed.

She gestured to a small, fresh bandage at the small of her back, visible just above her waistband.

I will be going to the board personally to offer my apologies, she continued. Then she retrieved a thick file from her briefcase. I know my behavior has been irrational. As an apology, Im signing over 20% of my new AI venture to you.

I took the file, my eyebrows raising slightly as I scanned the first page. The company was at the forefront of generative AI, a market darling poised for an explosive IPO. The valuation was easily in the ten-billion-dollar range.

It was a weighty apology, a gesture of sincere contrition. I handed the documents to my assistant, who had been waiting silently by the door, and nodded for him to handle the transfer.

As I turned back, Audrey reached out, her fingers closing around the cuff of my shirt.

Are you still angry? she asked, her voice so soft it was like a breath against my chest. I promise, it will never happen again.

My heart gave a painful throb. I swallowed the bitter taste of the past few weeks. A crack in a vase can be glued, but the line always remains. In my mind, the perfect image of Audrey Croft was now irrevocably flawed.

I closed my eyes, steeling myself.

Gently, I pulled my sleeve from her grasp. Don't forget the foundation gala tonight, I said, my voice colder than I intended. The car will be here at seven.

She stood frozen, her eyes welling with a guilty red. I sighed, a long, weary breath, and handed her a gift box Id had brought in.

A new gown, I said. Dont overthink it. Its in the past.

It was a truce. A signal that our alliance, our marriage, was still intact.

She nodded, taking the box, her expression unreadable.

At seven oclock sharp, she descended the stairs. She was a vision. The gown Id chosen, a deep emerald silk, clung to her frame, setting off her porcelain skin and cool, composed features. She turned heads the moment we arrived.

With the seamless grace Id always admired, she navigated the crowd, greeting investors and board members, her smile perfectly measured, her charm deployed with practiced efficiency. She found me by the bar and slid her arm through mine, a familiar, proprietary gesture.

Darling, Im so sorry Im late, she murmured, loud enough for those around us to hear.

A few of our acquaintances chuckled. Look at them. Still newlyweds after all these years.

By silent, mutual agreement, no one mentioned the recent unpleasantness. As long as she was Mrs. Donovan Shaw, she commanded respect. The gala was proceeding flawlessly. Audrey was playing her part to perfection, a testament to her breeding.

Later in the evening, after the speeches and the auction, the orchestra began to play. Audreys parents found me by the terrace.

Donovan, her father began, his expression somber. We apologize for Audreys recent foolishness. It must have been difficult for you.

He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. But rest assured, she is a Croft. She knows how to weigh her options and choose what is most advantageous.

I smiled and nodded, offering the requisite polite assurances. But his words left a bitter aftertaste. I was the advantageous choice. The logical one.

But he was right. In our world, love was never the bottom line. As long as the merger was profitable, the marriage would endure. I could learn to retract the small, worthless piece of my heart I had foolishly invested.

Toward the end of the night, my father made his appearance. I was about to lead Audrey over to pay our respects when I turned and found she was gone.

I frowned, catching my assistants eye. Where is she?

He looked uneasy. Mrs. Shaw took a call a few minutes ago, sir. She said it was an emergency and left in a hurry.

My jaw tightened. What emergency? Every major firm in the city knew this gala was happening tonight; no one would dare interrupt. And if it were a Croft family matter, her parents were right here.

It could only be one person. Jax.

My fathers gaze was already on me. I smoothed my expression into one of easy confidence and walked toward him.

Father. Audrey was called away for an urgent matter. She sends her deepest apologies. Allow me to toast you on her behalf.

He looked at me, his eyes sharp and knowing, but he accepted the glass. He took a sip, his gaze unwavering. Donovan, family interests are paramount, I know. But you are my only son. Your own well-being matters more.

I was stunned. I never expected that from him, a man forged in the cold calculus of corporate warfare. For a moment, a genuine warmth spread through my chest.

But I shook my head. I appreciate that, Father. But I have it under control.

He gave me another long, meaningful look. You always were the one with the heart, son. Be careful with it.

When I returned home after the gala, the house was dark and empty. Audrey wasn't back. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed one.

I pulled out my phone, about to call my security team to track her down, when a text from an unknown number came through.

It was a video. I opened it.

The scene was a filthy, cluttered apartment. Greasy takeout containers, cigarette butts, empty beer bottles, and playing cards were scattered across the floor. Audrey, who I knew to be a fastidious neat-freak, who would often have the maids re-clean a room she found unsatisfactory, was sitting cross-legged on a stained carpet. She wore a faded, cheap-looking t-shirt and her hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail. She was playing cards with a group of thugs with brightly dyed hair.

Haha, you lose again! Off with an item, Audrey-baby! a voice jeered. It was Jax, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

The other men hooted in agreement, their eyes crawling over her with a slimy, possessive hunger.

My stomach clenched. Audrey? Taking her clothes off? The woman who, for all five years of our marriage, insisted on turning the lights off during intimacy, maintaining a rigid, almost puritanical modesty.

I told myself she wouldn't. But my hand had started to tremble.

On the screen, Audrey just shot Jax a playful glare. But she was smiling. She reached up and pulled her shirt over her head.

Her bare shoulders and collarbones were exposed to their greedy stares. She didnt seem to care.

A bets a bet, she said, her voice giddy.

The game continued. She didnt win a single hand. Her tank top, then her shorts, were tossed onto a pile on the floor.

Finally, she was completely naked. Under the dim, grimy light, she looked like a priceless porcelain doll put on display in a junkyard. The stares grew more brazen. Someone shoved a beer into her hand.

You lost the game, now you gotta chug the pain!

I watched her take the bottle, a wave of self-loathing washing over me. Audrey had navigated treacherous boardrooms and hostile takeovers for years. Her perception was razor-sharp. She had to see the blatant malice in their eyes.

She was doing this on purpose. Or worse, she simply didnt care.

After a few more beers, her eyes were glazed over. She suddenly threw her arms around Jaxs neck, draping herself over him.

Jax she slurred, her voice breathy. Being with you its the only time I feel alive

Ah. So thats what this was. A drunken confession.

The room erupted in wolf-whistles. Jax grinned, puffed out his chest, and waved the other men away. Alright, alright, shows over! Everybody out!

The door clicked shut, leaving the two of them alone. Their faces smashed together in a desperate, clumsy kiss.

CRACK.

My phone hit the far wall, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of glass. I stood there, breathing heavily, the silence of the room pressing in on me. After a moment, I walked over and picked it up. Through the fractured screen, a new text message from the same number popped up.

It was from Jax.

Heard youre a big shot CEO too. You rich folks really get off on some weird shit, huh? Gotta say tho, your wifes body is tight. Like a teenagers.

The roiling nausea and white-hot rage in my chest instantly cooled, solidifying into something dense, cold, and absolute.

The heir to the Shaw Corporation. Being mocked by some two-bit parasite.

And it was all because of her.

I walked to my desk and picked up the landline, dialing my assistants private number.

Liquidate and freeze every asset, every share, every joint account connected to Audrey Croft-Shaw. And put the PR team on standby. Level-one crisis protocol.

A pause on the other end. Sir? Effective when?

Effective now.

Three days later, in the early morning, I heard the faint click of the front door.

Audrey was back. She carried with her the stale, lingering scent of cheap beer and smoke. She looked exhausted, but her eyes held a feverish, manic energy. She froze when she saw me sitting on the sofa in the living room.

After a beat, she affected a casual air, slipping off her boots. Sorry about that, she said, her voice flat. A last-minute project came up. Had to fly out for a few days.

I said nothing, taking a slow sip of my tea.

Her own assistant, who had followed her in, was pale as a ghost. She leaned in and whispered frantically, Ms. Croft, you need to look at the top news stories. Right now.

Audrey frowned, pulling out her phone with an annoyed sigh.

A few seconds later, the color drained from her face. Her knuckles went white as she gripped the device.

The number one trending topic, in bold, lurid letters:

#HighSocietyScandal: Billionaire Heiresss Wild Hotel Party#
#VIDEO: Business Titan Audrey Crofts Sex Tape Leaked#

Her head snapped up, her eyes blazing with fury. You?! she screamed, her voice shaking with rage. Donovan Shaw, did you do this?! Did you stoop this low?

The video was pixelated, with blurs over the most explicit parts, but her face was perfectly clear. Whoever released it wanted to destroy her reputation, not just titillate the public. It was a character assassination. And it dragged both the Shaw and Croft names through the mud with it.

I leaned back against the sofa, a smirk playing on my lips. I did. What of it?

You! Audrey was trembling, speechless. She had clearly never imagined I would be capable of such a thingof choosing scorched earth over the greater good.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, reining in her fury. Fine! Fine, Donovan, you win! Youre ruthless. Now, get this taken down. Bury it. Erase every copy from the source. You do that, and Ill agree to one demand. Anything you want.

She paused, her eyes glinting with what she thought was her trump card.

Ill break it off with Jax for good. Ill spend the rest of my life playing the part of your perfect wife.

A dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips. She really thought this was all some grand, manipulative gesture to force her back into line. She thought my ultimate goal was simply to maintain our respectable, hollow marriage.

She had no idea. I was done wanting her.

I stood up and retrieved a document from the desk drawer.

Alright, I said, sliding it across the polished mahogany table toward her. Her eyes lit up with a flash of triumph.

But then I finished my sentence.

Ill have it all taken down the moment you sign the divorce papers.

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