Jake sat in his office at the Ling Corp subsidiary, scrolling through his social media handles, a smile etched on his face as he read all the critic comments about Emma.
The reporters he tipped off to flood his house and ask about Emma had done exactly what he asked them to—stirring the public's sympathy while painting Emma as the villain and him as the victim. It was just what he wanted.
It was all Vanessa's idea, and she had been the one to call the news agencies, telling them they would find an interesting story at his house. A smile curled up his lips as he thought of her.
She, indeed, was a smart and cunning bitch, that knew just what he wanted.
Now, he had to make sure Alex, the adopted son, would never inherit what was rightfully his. He was sure Vanessa would do a good job helping him achieve what he wanted.
The knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Before he could respond, the door creaked open, revealing his mother, Margaret, and his aunt, Claire and he immediately dropped his phone, subtly.
Their faces were etched with concern, making Jake grit his teeth in annoyance. He wasn't in the mood to be coddled, but he could use this to his advantage. If anyone could further his agenda, it was these two women.
Margaret rushed to him first, her eyes brimming with worry. "Jake, darling, are you okay? I saw the news. Why didn't you tell us about all this sooner?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"How could Emma do this to you? I've always known that girl was no good. But cheating? Getting pregnant by another man? And you didn't divorce her earlier? Why?" Margaret asked, and Jake sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair as if weighed down by the world.
"What could I do? I wanted to believe she could change, Mom," he said, his voice laced with melancholy. "I loved her, and she loved me too, or at least I thought she did. But she betrayed me in the worst possible way. I trusted her… and she…. she just spat in my face," he said, acting out his pretense pretty well, tears glistening in his eyes.
Claire placed a hand on her nephew's shoulder. "I can't believe what you've had to endure. Why didn't you come to us sooner?" she asked in concern.
He glanced at both of them, his eyes glistening with false vulnerability. "What could I say?" His voice cracked slightly, and he knew he had them right where he wanted them.
"I didn't want to seem weak. I didn't want to admit that my marriage was falling apart, that my wife didn't even care if I came home at night. She stopped cooking for me, stopped being a wife…
"Most nights when I got home after working late, she'd already be gone. She'd return past midnight, dressed in those skimpy outfits, reeking of some man's cologne....." he let his words trail off, allowing the image sink in.
Margaret gasped, her face twisting in disgust. "That harlot! I knew she wasn't right for you! How could she do this?"
Jake lowered his head, playing the wounded husband to perfection. "I wanted to make things work. I was willing to put in the effort, but Emma? She didn't care. She stopped loving me long before I could even see it," he said and cleaned off his eyes, pretending like he was crying.
"You shouldn't be here, Jake. You're still clearly hurting. You should take the time off..."
"No, Aunt. I can't stay at home thinking about her. I needed to keep my mind off things and work is the only thing that can help," he quickly cut in and Claire looked at him, feeling genuinely sorry for her nephew.
Claire's eyes softened as she sat beside him. "Oh, Jake, why didn't you say something? You didn't deserve this. You deserved better than her. I'm glad she's out of your life now. It's time for you to move on," she said, and Jake shook his head.
"If only I had left her sooner," Jake continued, his voice growing thick with emotion, "but I didn't have the strength until I saw her trying to terminate the pregnancy. That was the final straw. When I confronted her, she didn't even deny that the baby wasn't mine."
Margaret clenched her fists, her lips pursed in a thin line of fury. "That woman... she deserves everything coming to her. No one treats my son like that. I'll find her and make sure she gets what she deserves."
Claire sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, at least we're rid of her now. You can focus on yourself, Jake, and your future. Since you need to keep working, I'll let you work, but not here," she said, glancing at Margaret and then back at Jake.
"What do you mean, Aunt?" Jake asked, his heart pounding with anticipation.
"I've decided to transfer you to the head branch of Ling Corp, where you'll be a managing director. You've done excellent work here, but with everything that's happened, I want you to leave this branch. I want you to meet new faces at the headquarters and fall in love with the right girl," she said, her worry evident in her voice.
Jake tried to mask his disappointment with a small smile, though inside, rage boiled beneath the surface. Managing director? It was a demotion in all but name.
"Thank you, Aunt Claire. That means a lot," he said, as though he was genuinely glad.
"I'm glad you're willing to go. You have to support your uncle, help him carry out tasks properly, and then learn from him, too," Claire said, and Jake nodded.
"Yes, aunt," Jake managed to say, his voice steady, though his heart pounded with barely suppressed anger. "I'm sure Uncle Alex will bring a lot of knowledge from his time in Paris and take the company to greater heights. He'll be a great leader."
Claire smiled, clearly satisfied with his response. "I knew you'd understand. And don't worry, you'll still play an important role in the company," she said, and Margaret nodded.
"Of course," Jake nodded, but the moment the words left his lips, his jaw tightened. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this act going.
Margaret leaned over and kissed his cheek. "We just wanted to check on you, darling. You've been through so much. Go home and rest, please," she said, and he nodded.
"I appreciate you both being here," Jake said, standing to hug his mother and then his aunt. "It means a lot."
After exchanging a few more words of sympathy, Margaret and Claire finally left the office, leaving Jake alone.
As soon as the door clicked shut, his calm demeanor shattered. He slammed his fist onto his desk, the wood groaning under the force.
He began pacing the room, his mind a whirlwind of fury and resentment. How could this be happening? An adopted child, someone who wasn't even supposed to be part of the family, was inheriting the company that rightfully belonged to his mother and aunt.
He had worked so hard and made many plans, and now it was all falling apart.
"They're handing everything to him," Jake seethed, his fists clenched. "Everything."
He couldn't let that happen. Not while he was still alive. The company, his life's work, was slipping through his fingers, and he wouldn't let it go without a fight.