He Fired Me For The Other Woman I Ruined Him
I was the top agent in the entertainment industry.
On the day of the gala event, Evan's newly signed model, Jayne Jones, wore my limited edition jacket and demanded my dismissal, claiming that the style was outdated.
I assumed she didn't know who I was and asked her, "What makes you think you can?"
She hooked her arm around Evan's and lit a cigarette in the non-smoking banquet hall, saying, "Just because this company belongs to my boyfriend, Evan."
I nodded and called the richest man in Arland. The call was answered instantly.
"Mr. Wilson, I've been fired. I can't take on your ten-billion-dollar movie project," I said calmly.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
As soon as I finished speaking, the conference room fell into a suffocating silence that lasted for ten seconds.
On the other end of the line, Dominick chuckled softly, his voice steady as ever, "It's unfortunate, but if you need assistance, just tell me. I'm always here for you."
I hung up the phone, put it away, and calmly scanned the faces in the conference room, each marked by shock.
Finally, my gaze settled on Evan.
His expression froze. He was clearly still in shock.
Then, some brutal realization pierced through his mind. The top domestic resource, Dominick, whom he desperately wanted to get in touch with but couldn't even get close to, spoke to me in a familiar tone, as if greeting an old friend, even with a rare hint of accommodation.
"You... you know Dominick?"
Evan's voice was hoarse, "When did you..."
"Do I need to report to you when I get to know Dominick?" I interrupted him, my tone flat, "Just like you didn't tell me when you started hooking up with Jayne."
These words were like a slap in the face to him.
Soon, the fury of being fooled, belittled, and especially publicly humiliated shattered the dignity he had been trying to maintain.
"Mallory! You betrayed me?" He suddenly overturned the coffee cup in front of him, the liquid spilling onto the pristine table, staining the freshly signed termination agreement.
His eyes were blazing with rage, veins bulging at his temples. He pointed at me and said in a furious tone. "You've been planning this all along, haven't you? You think getting close to Dominick makes you special? Without me, you're nothing! Who in the entertainment industry would recognize you? You'll regret this! You will definitely come back to me on your knees and beg for my forgiveness!"
The shareholders and executives were silent, their eyes complicated as they watched Evan's loss of composure, sneaking glances at my consistently calm stance.
Jayne tried to grab his arm, only to be harshly shaken off.
I watched his disgraceful action, feeling the last ripple in my heart settle.
So his heart was truly despicable.
I couldn't even be bothered to argue with him any longer.
I simply turned and walked towards the door.
As my hand grasped the doorknob, I paused.
I didn't look back. My voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly throughout the silent conference room. "Well, I forgot to tell you all. This office building is under my personal ownership."
Several gasps of disbelief echoed behind me.
I slightly turned my face, capturing Evan's suddenly rigid silhouette and Jayne's instantly pale face with the corner of my eye.
"You have three days. Take your belongings..." I paused, delivering the final words. Get out. If you don't move out by the deadline..."
I opened the door, the light flooding in, outlining my upright posture.
"I'll have security clear you out like trash." I turned my head away, my eyes icy. With that, I left without looking back.
...
The news of my contract termination caused a stir. Although it was not officially announced, undercurrents were already surging within the industry.
Evan's reaction was swift.
Perhaps he was provoked into irrationality by me, or maybe he was truly blinded by Jayne.
Less than a week after my contract termination, he announced his relationship with Jayne on social media.
He posted a close-up photo of their fingers intertwined under the sunset, with a caption both sentimental and pretentious. "Meeting you was the best thing," he even tagged Jayne.
A top-tier male star announcing a romance was akin to dropping a nuclear bomb in fandom. Twitter servers crashed for half an hour.
His fans instantly reacted in several different extremes.
A few offered blessings, but many more dramatically noped out of fandom and criticized him.
And there were also malicious conspiracy theorists who quickly turned their attention to me.
"Why announce it now, right after breaking up with his agent? Was he pushed too hard by Mallory? Using the announcement as a form of retaliation?"
"I always thought Mallory's control over Evan was abnormal! She always controlled everything!"
"I heard the termination terms weren't agreed upon? Is it because Mallory wanted to continue leeching off Evan, and since he wouldn't allow it, she threatened to expose Evan's relationship? And then Evan himself announced his relationship first?"
"She's involved in workplace gaslighting and sexual harassment. Mallory, get out of the entertainment industry."
"We should support Evan! Mallory must apologize!"
Rumors, fueled by those with ulterior motives, spiraled out of control and eventually ignited during a backstage group interview at a brand event a few days later, led personally by Evan.
When a reporter sharply questioned, "Why didn't you renew your contract with your agent, Mallory, with whom you've worked for seven years?" all cameras were trained on him.
Evan, dressed in a bespoke haute couture suit, feigned a vulnerable yet restrained melancholy under the flashing lights.
He paused for a few seconds, seemingly suppressing his emotions, then raised his head to the camera, offering a bitter smile. "Mallory is someone special to me. I am eternally grateful for the seven years of companionship and dedication."
He paused, his voice slightly trembling, perfectly portraying a hint of suffering. "However, there are certain matters involving personal values and limits where I can no longer compromise or remain silent. The only problem between us is some irreconcilable differences in our work philosophies and methods. Please, do not speculate excessively or trouble Mallory."
He didn't say a bad word about me at all, and his words were even "sincere," but in the current public opinion environment, the target of his words was self-evident.
He was implying that I had been controlling and oppressing him for seven years, beyond our working relationship.
The interview video spread like wildfire.
Topics such as "Evan's agent bullies him in the workplace," "Evan has endured it for seven years," and "I feel sorry for Evan" quickly became trending topics.
My name became synonymous with sin.
My photos were edited into vile caricatures, and my personal information was dug up.
My phone was flooded with curses and insults from unknown numbers, even affecting my long-deceased mother.
"Mallory, you leech, why haven't you just died?"
"Bullying a celebrity at work, how can someone like you even be an agent?"
"Apologize! You must apologize publicly! Get out of the entertainment industry!"
Even the PR director of Fidelia Entertainment called me. "Miss Campbell. Your personal feud with Evan has severely impacted the company's reputation. Please state to clarify the false rumors as soon as possible, or the company will reserve the right to pursue legal action against you."
I stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the wave of hostility.
Watching Evan's perfect victim performance in the interview video, I was furious.
My phone buzzed again with a message from an unknown number. "Do you regret leaving so decisively that day? Netizens are all criticizing you. If you just beg me, I'll help you clear your name."
I could imagine Evan's smug expression as he typed those words, confident of his victory.
How did he become like this?
He once hugged me and twirled around in excitement for landing a minor role. How did he turn so despicable?
I didn't reply to him.
Instead, I calmly picked up another spare phone and called my lawyer. "Jaxen, you can start preparing the encrypted files I sent you. Also, contact the reporters and tell them the first batch of material will be sent in ten minutes."
Those encrypted files contained recordings from my habits as a top agent, including Evan's early hints for me to deal with overzealous female fans, his complaints about a certain actress being "unreasonable and unwilling to cooperate with promotional stunts,"
It also included screenshots of recent WhatsApp chat logs showing him flirting openly with Jayne and several other models and actresses, discussing how to use rumors to promote each other, and even involving resource exchanges.
Of course, even more crucially, these documents contained clues that could prove his tax problems and illegal operations.
On the computer screen, the "sent successfully" prompt quietly popped up.
I picked up the coffee that had long grown cold, taking a sip.
The bitterness spread across my tongue, sharpening my gaze.
"Evan, the game had only just begun." I thought.
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
You may also like
7.3
I borrowed my wealthy best friend's identity to seduce Colonel Ethan Christensen. He was the powerful uncle of my ex-boyfriend, Kayden, who had brutally dumped me for a rich heiress.
My revenge plan worked too well. Ethan fell deeply in love with my fake persona and proposed. But then he handed me a thick envelope: a top-secret military background check requiring fingerprints and ten years of history.
My fake identity was about to be shattered. I faced federal fraud charges and prison time. More than that, the guilt was eating me alive. Ethan wasn't a pawn; he was a genuinely honorable man who promised to protect me. Terrified and exhausted by the lies, I typed out a full confession, ready to tell him everything and walk away.
But right before I hit send, Kayden's new fiancée called to gloat about their engagement. Through the phone, I heard Kayden's voice, lazily mocking my low status.
"Tell her to stay home. Tell her to find someone on her own level in the gutter."
The rage burned away all my guilt. Why should I be the bigger person while they destroyed my life without a second thought?
I deleted the confession and called my friend to hire a black-market hacker. I needed a flawless, forged background in forty-eight hours. I am going to marry Ethan Christensen, and I am going to smile when Kayden is forced to call me "Aunt."
7.0
Eight years ago, Alaina forced herself to say the most vicious, heartless things to break up with her fiercely loyal college boyfriend, protecting him from his billionaire family's wrath.
Now, she is a top maxillofacial surgeon, and Jarred Mcknight has returned as the ruthless CEO of Wall Street's most powerful corporation.
Their worlds collide in the ER, but Jarred isn't alone. He is accompanying his rumored heiress fiancée.
His eyes are pure ice. He treats Alaina with a suffocating, clinical detachment, fiercely protecting the heiress from Alaina's medical examination. The professional slap in the face shatters Alaina's heart all over again.
Later, at an exclusive restaurant, Jarred catches Alaina on a miserable, forced blind date. Still believing she left him for money and status, he publicly mocks her for working herself to the bone just to climb the ladder.
Her sleazy date, humiliated by the billionaire's sheer dominance, turns his bruised ego on Alaina. On the dark street outside, the lawyer aggressively grabs her arm, trying to force himself on her.
Alaina thought Jarred despised her. She thought he had completely moved on, leaving her to drown in the memories of the future they never had.
But why did Jarred suddenly explode from the shadows like a lethal predator, brutally snapping the lawyer's wrist just for touching her?
Pinning her trapped against the cold brick wall, Jarred's dark eyes burn with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness.
"Is this the kind of garbage you date now?"
The eight years of separation mean nothing. The billionaire hasn't let her go, and this time, there is no escape.
7.8
I woke up in a bed of Egyptian cotton with a jackhammer headache and the naked CEO of my company sleeping beside me. I was a low-level analyst who had accidentally texted the world's most ruthless billionaire instead of my crush. Now, Sebastian Sterling wasn't just my boss-he was the man who owned my debt, my marriage, and a secret that was currently burning us both alive.
He forced me into a cold-blooded marriage contract, trading my mother's life-saving medical bills for a year of my life as his trophy wife. I thought I was just a pawn in his corporate war against his ex-fiancée, but the tattoo over his heart-0825-held the date of the fire that destroyed my childhood and killed my peace.
He hadn't just found me; he had been watching me from the shadows since I was twelve. He built a fortress of money and lies around me, manipulating my every move while his family tried to have me erased. When they finally targeted my mother and my son, I realized I couldn't just be a victim anymore.
I fled to the industrial slums of Newark, erasing my identity to hunt down the ledgers that could put his family behind bars. But Sebastian didn't let me go; he stripped off his suits and checked out of his penthouse to follow me into the grime.
Now, he's posing as a low-life driver named Ben, watching over me from a beat-up SUV while I infiltrate a criminal syndicate. He thinks he's my guardian angel, but I'm the one holding the match that will either save his empire or burn it to the ground.
8.2
My father was the King of Wall Street until he was branded a fraud, turning the Maxwell name into a lead weight dragging me to the bottom of the Hudson. I walked into the Brennan Media Tower with blood-red lipstick and a desperate proposal, offering myself as a "paper wife" to Garland Brennan, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan.
Garland didn’t even look at me as a human being; he tore my term sheet in half and called me "radioactive" before having security toss me out like trash. I returned to my rotting apartment in Bushwick only to find my roommate’s cousin, a debt collector named Jax, waiting to break my bones.
He pinned me against the wall, his hand heavy on my throat as he sneered about selling me to a club to pay off my father's debts. With my ribs aching and my back against the radiator, I had to leak corporate secrets on Twitter just to summon Garland’s private mercenaries to stop a predator.
The humiliation didn't stop there. At the Met Gala, the elite mocked my dress made of construction tarp, and my father’s creditors began harassing my senile grandmother in her nursing home. I was a cornered animal, and Garland Brennan was the only hunter offering a cage instead of a grave.
I realized then that in this zip code, you are either the predator or the prey, and I was tired of being hunted.
Garland offered me a marriage contract that demanded total submission—no equity, no voting rights, just an employee with a wedding ring. I signed the four-hundred-page document with a steady hand, but not before hiding a legal poison pill in the fine print. He thinks he bought a silent asset, but I just secured a front-row seat to his downfall.
8.1
On her eighteenth birthday, Arabella's life was destroyed when thugs attacked her and left her reputation in pieces. Brenton played the hero, sent the men to prison, and married her, becoming the man she trusted most.
For two years, she believed he had saved her, until one overheard confession shattered everything. "If she had pushed a little harder, she might've figured out Brinley was behind the whole thing. That's the only reason I married her. Lucky for me, she's so easy to fool."
He had only married her to protect the woman who truly mattered to him. When that woman came back, Arabella chose divorce without hesitation.
Brenton expected her to come crawling back. "How can she even survive without me?"
Instead, she rose in the tech world, untouchable, brilliant, and far beyond his reach-just in time for another powerful man to claim her heart.
Then Brenton begged, "Baby, I messed up. Just give me one more chance. Please."
But the tycoon pulled her into his arms. "Baby? Please. She's my wife now."
9.5
Ten years ago, a storm tore through Burke Manor and destroyed my life. I was just an eight-year-old orphan hiding in the shadows when a rotted balcony railing gave way, sending the heir to the Burke fortune plummeting to the pavement.
Before the ambulance even arrived, the lie was set in stone.
"She pushed him!" my rival screamed, and the world instantly branded me a murderer.
I was hauled away in a police cruiser, losing everything. A decade later, I was an eighteen-year-old mechanic in Queens, covered in grease and struggling to keep my Nana Rose alive.
But the past doesn't stay buried. Finn Burke returned in a black Maybach, looking like a predatory emperor. When Nana suffered a massive heart attack, the hospital demanded a deposit I couldn't pay, and Finn was there with a checkbook and a contract of "indebted servitude."
He bought my grandmother's life and, in exchange, he bought me. He dragged me back to the manor, locked a titanium GPS shackle around my wrist, and forced me to be his personal caretaker.
He wants me to manage his pain, to bathe him, and to look at his crippled legs every day as a reminder of the "sin" he says I committed. He calls me his property, a slave to a debt I can never repay.
But while massaging his legs, I felt something impossible—muscle tone and reactive tension that shouldn't exist after ten years of paralysis.
He thinks he’s broken me, but he’s forgotten one thing. I’m a mechanic; I know when someone is hiding what’s under the hood.
Finn Burke is lying about his legs, and I’m going to find out why, even if I have to burn this manor down to get the truth.