She Destroyed My Porsche, Then Learned I’m the CEO’s Wife

The office has been tense since I submitted my resignationall because of my new Porsche. After parking it in the corporate garage, I found it the next morning destroyed: windows smashed, hood splashed with paint, and obscenities sprayed on the doors. Security footage showed the vandal was Brenda, my department manager.

When I confronted her, she stood tall, claiming she was doing my parents a favor by teaching a gold digger a lesson. She even threatened to ruin my reputation if I went to the police. Our conflict started during a business trip, when the company booked me into a cheap motel. I chose to pay for a luxury hotel suite instead due to allergies and cleanliness concerns. I had also just closed a $70 million contract, so the cost was irrelevant to my work.

Brenda didnt agree. In the next meeting, she mocked me, called me disrespectful, and even accused me of sleeping around to afford the hotel. When I told her to stay out of my personal life, she nearly lunged at me. I never thought shed escalate to destroying my car.

Now, with my resignation in, whatever happens to this toxic company is no longer my concern.

Standing outside the grimy fifty dollar a night roadside motel in a neighboring state, I couldn't help but frown.

The company's standard travel allowance had always been five hundred a night. Since when did they become so incredibly cheap?

The room in front of me was stained, smelled like mildew, and was completely unlivable.

Coincidentally, my parents had just wired me thirty thousand dollars as a birthday gift a few days prior. Without a second thought, I tapped my phone and booked the executive suite at the luxury hotel right down the street.

The next morning, back at the office.

The second Brenda walked into the morning briefing, her eyes locked onto me like a heat seeking missile.

I gave her a look of mild confusion.

A second later, Brenda's face darkened into a scowl.

"Avery, hand over the hotel receipt from your business trip."

Even though I had been working here for less than three months, I knew the reimbursement protocol inside and out. Expense reports went to finance, not directly to department managers.

Besides, I hated dealing with red tape. I never bothered expensing my hotel stays anyway.

Meeting her intense, interrogating glare, I simply shook my head.

"Brenda, I paid for a different hotel out of my own pocket. I'm not filing it for reimbursement."

Brenda looked at me with a complicated, disappointed sigh, adopting a sickeningly patronizing tone.

"Avery, sweetie. You are young, but you need to maintain some basic moral boundaries. A business trip is just one night. A bed is a bed."

"The company already arranged a hotel for you. Why are you burning money for no reason? You should be sending that cash back home to support your poor parents."

I swallowed my rising irritation and gave her my most polite, customer service smile.

"Brenda, I appreciate your concern, but my parents actually worry I don't spend enough. On top of that, I have extremely sensitive skin and severe germophobia. I physically cannot sleep in a rundown motel."

"Getting proper rest means I work more efficiently. Rest assured, I didn't touch a single cent of company money. It was entirely self funded."

To my shock, Brenda completely lost her temper.

"Self funded? Oh my god, you earn a tiny little paycheck and suddenly you think you are royalty! If I were your mother, I would die of a broken heart!"

I actually let out a dry laugh. I had dealt with arrogant male bosses before, but this was my first time dealing with an overbearing, toxic work mom.

"Five thousand dollars for a single night in an executive suite! I think you are getting way too big for your boots, acting like a spoiled princess just chasing cheap thrills!"

Hearing her state the exact price and room type made my stomach drop. Every colleague in the conference room turned to stare at me.

I was traveling completely alone. How exactly did she get that specific information?

Pure anger began to bubble up in my chest.

Unable to tolerate the disrespect any longer, I slammed my leather portfolio onto the table. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

"Who exactly do you think you are? How I spend my personal money is absolutely none of your business! Keep your unsolicited opinions to yourself unless it is strictly about work!"

Brenda clearly hadn't expected me to push back so publicly. Her face flushed a violent shade of purple, then pale white.

"I am only looking out for you! Don't be so ungrateful."

Seeing that I wasn't going to back down, she desperately tried to save face by waving me off.

"Fine, fine. We will deal with your attitude later. Continue your presentation."

I took three deep breaths, forcing my emotions back into a locked box.

The work had to come first.

The rest of the presentation went flawlessly. Thanks to the seventy million dollar contract I had just secured, I was officially crowned the top performer of the month.

But my peace didn't last long. I was deep in a spreadsheet when Brenda suddenly marched over and violently slammed my laptop shut.

"I have been thinking about this all morning, and things just aren't adding up."

Not this again.

I crossed my arms and glared up at her, my eyes icy.

"You claim you paid out of pocket, but let us look at the reality. Your salary, your bonuses, your stipends... they all come from this company. The massive commission you are getting from this new project? That is company money too."

"The sheep pays for its own wool. You are secretly bleeding the company dry to fund your little luxury lifestyle. You really think you are a genius, don't you, Avery?"

Brenda leaned heavily against my cubicle wall, a smug smirk twisting her lips.

"Self funded? Please. You are just trying to build this fake, wealthy socialite persona for yourself."

"Is this what your parents sent you to college for? To learn how to be a professional gold digger?"

I narrowed my eyes, giving her a sharp warning.

"Brenda, watch your mouth. I brought in a massive account for this firm. The company compensating me for my labor is exactly how business works."

Brenda ground her teeth together, her eyes practically bulging.

"I asked around. Your paycheck this month, including the commission, is nearly eighty thousand dollars!"

"I am drowning in a mortgage and car loans! I can't even justify paying ten dollars for a Netflix subscription! You are barely in your twenties, you have been here two months, and you are taking home that kind of cash? God only knows what dirty favors you pulled to get that contract!"

The colleagues around us, who had previously kept their heads down, all looked up. Hearing the exact number of my commission sparked a wildfire of toxic whispers across the floor.

I was absolutely livid. A blind, burning fury ignited in my chest.

I kicked my office chair back and stood up, getting right in Brenda's face.

"Are you completely out of your mind? Payroll is highly confidential. Employees are strictly prohibited from discussing salaries! Yet here you are, broadcasting my personal finances to the entire floor!"

"You guys dumped this client on me because they were notoriously difficult to please. I didn't steal. I didn't cheat. I earned every single penny of that commission!"

"Are you just jealous? If you want that kind of money, go close a deal yourself! Stop using your age as an excuse to act like an unhinged lunatic!"

I basically screamed the last sentence.

I thought my absolute outrage would finally force her to back off.

Instead, she took it a step further.

"If you can casually drop five grand on a hotel room, you clearly don't need the money. You need to split that seventy thousand dollar bonus with the rest of the department. Consider it a thank you for all the help we have given you these past two months."

Are you kidding me? Who hired this absolute idiot? How did someone with zero brain cells make it into management?

I pulled out my phone, ready to dial Rowan immediately.

Was my husband playing a sick joke on me? Didn't he promise I would be placed in a quiet, drama free department?

When I first graduated, I wanted to take two years off just to travel and enjoy life. But Rowan begged and pleaded, claiming he couldn't stand being away from me all day. He practically bribed me to take a cushy, low stress job at his company just so I would be in the same building.

I hated corporate gossip, so we agreed to keep our marriage completely secret.

But right now, I was done playing the undercover wife. If I let this continue, Brenda was going to give me an aneurysm.

The phone barely began to ring before a hand shot out and snatched the device right out of my grip.

Brenda glanced at the caller ID, let out a loud, mocking scoff, and hit end call.

"Calling Hubby? You play a very dirty game, Avery. I knew you were using your body to secure deals, but you really have no shame, do you?"

She leaned in close. She pretended to lower her voice, but she made sure her words carried across the silent office.

"You better be a smart girl and hand over that commission. Otherwise, I am reporting your little prostitution ring to upper management."

I stared at her with dead, emotionless eyes. I gave her a two word response.

"You're psychotic."

I grabbed my bag, turned on my heel, and walked straight out of the office.

I left Brenda standing there, stomping her feet and screaming insults at my back.

That night at home, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. If Rowan hadn't flown out of the country for an executive summit, I would have dragged him by the collar and demanded to know if this was some twisted loyalty test.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a notification.

Before I could even unlock the screen, over a hundred friend requests and messages flooded my notifications.

When I finally opened the app, the sheer vulgarity of the messages left me stunned.

[Hey gorgeous, how about I pick you up after work tomorrow at five?]

[Hi beautiful, I have a great income. We can get our marriage license this week.]

[Avery, I might not be a millionaire, but I can let you be a stay at home wife. Think about it.]

Before I could even process what was happening, I realized I had been dragged into a massive, five hundred person matchmaking group chat.

My personal information, my phone number, and my work details were plastered all over the group. The group admin was literally monetizing me, selling my photos like premium mystery boxes.

A headshot was ten bucks. A full body photo was thirty. A makeup free natural photo was sixty...

Reading the absolutely vile, predatory comments from the men in the chat, I felt like I had been struck by lightning.

Taking a deep breath to steady my shaking hands, I tapped on a profile that looked somewhat normal and replied privately.

"I am already married. How exactly did you get my contact information?"

The guy immediately exploded.

"Married?! Then why the hell did your mother list you in a sugar baby matchmaking group? Your whole family is sick in the head! Psycho!"

Being cursed out by a complete stranger made my hands shake with pure rage.

My mother? Absolutely impossible. Both my parents had attended my lavish wedding with Rowan.

Looking at the admin's specific typing style in the main chat, a dark suspicion began to take root in my mind.

The next morning, I walked into the office to find Brenda sitting right at my desk, a smug smile plastered across her face.

"So, Avery! Did any of your blind dates work out?"

"Take it from someone with life experience. You are young and pretty, which means you are easily tempted by the wrong path. Once you find a nice, average man and settle down, you will finally behave."

I opened my mouth to completely destroy her, but the CEO's executive assistant, Kyle, suddenly walked into the bullpen and called my name, asking me to step outside.

The moment I left the room, Jessica, the office gossip, couldn't hold back.

"Why is the CEO's assistant looking for her? She just landed a massive contract. Do you think she's getting a promotion?"

Brenda let out a loud, disdainful snort.

"Over my dead body. The CEO definitely found out about her little prostitution scandal. He sent Kyle down here to fire her on the spot!"

It wasn't that I didn't hear their toxic whispers; I just didn't want to waste my breath arguing with trash.

Kyle led me down to the executive VIP garage. He handed me a sleek, heavy set of car keys with an apologetic, incredibly polite smile.

"Ma'am, Mr. Caldwell had back to back dinners last night and couldn't answer your call. He bought this as an apology for missing you."

Looking at the stunning, pristine white Porsche parked in the VIP bay, a large chunk of my anger finally melted away.

"Do me a favor, Kyle. Tell Rowan I am officially quitting."

Kyle nodded immediately, not daring to question me.

I considered asking him to investigate the sudden drop in the travel budget, but decided against it.

My sudden resignation was going to trigger Rowan's protective instincts. He would tear the company upside down to find out why I left, and the truth would inevitably surface. I was completely done playing detective for a company that treated me like garbage.

The gorgeous curves of the Porsche gleamed under the garage lights.

My mood instantly skyrocketed. I took the elevator back up to pack my desk. I couldn't bear to spend another second in this toxic wasteland.

But the moment I stepped back into the bullpen, I froze.

My usually pristine desk was buried under a massive mountain of disorganized paperwork and client files.

Before I could even ask what was going on, Jessica smirked from her cubicle.

"With great salary comes great responsibility, Avery. You can't just take all that money and not do the grunt work."

Was she seriously trying to gaslight me?

I wasn't about to swallow this disrespect. I grabbed the stacks of heavy files and violently hurled them right back onto Jessica's desk, scattering papers everywhere.

Once my desk was finally cleared of their garbage, I noticed something horrifyingly wrong.

My iPad, my custom laptop, my ergonomic mouse, and even my expensive desk humidifier were completely gone.

I hastily pulled my chair out, only to find that my Birkin bag, which I always kept tucked away, had vanished as well.

"Where is my bag? Where is my laptop? Who touched my stuff?!"

The entire office went dead silent. Nobody dared to make eye contact.

Suddenly, Brenda walked into my line of sight, aggressively waving a thick stack of cash in her hand.

"I sold it all to a secondhand dealer. Just doing my part to recoup the company's losses and send some charity back to your poor family."