She Fired the Wrong Man

No wonder the guy looked familiar.

About six months ago, he botched a restoration on a limited-edition bag.

He had to pull some strings to get it sent to me, and I fixed it without much trouble.

Internationally certified restoration experts like me were rare. I couldn't believe Tom brought Stan in to replace me, having no fear that he would wreck Luxe Atelier's reputation.

Then again, once I was gone, that name wouldn't be worth much anyway.

I couldn't help laughing and said dryly, "Mr. Ford, didn't you just make yourself the industry's biggest joke earlier this year? What, memory of a goldfish now?"

A few coworkers covered their mouths, snickering.

"Why bring in someone with a stain on his record?"

"Yeah, his eye can't compare to Jake's. Don't tell me he's going to mistake fakes for the real thing."

They weren't being quiet.

Stan frowned slightly and said stiffly, "Jake, no matter how good you are, they can't beat a scalable model. I can serve high-end clients and also grow the mass market, blend the two together."

He lifted a brow, his tone sharp and mocking.

"People mess up when they confuse a platform's convenience with their own ability. You're about to get fired, and you still have the nerve to talk big?"

That actually made me laugh.

Other than the owner, no one here had the authority to fire me.

I looked him up and down until he started bristling.

"Is that so? As a craftsman, you can't touch me on skill, so all you've got left is a title to make yourself feel important. Don't pretend like you're in this position because of your ability. What a joke!"

I held his gaze. He swallowed hard, over and over.

The looks from everyone around were like knives, slicing straight through his vanity.

He fumbled for a cigarette, clearly flustered. His jaw bulged, his eyes burning like he wanted to tear me apart.

"I'll tell you this. Ms. Booth personally asked me to take your position. Next month, she and I are getting married. That makes me half your boss."

I froze.

So Tom and Stan dared to act this arrogantly because Christine Booth was backing them.

What no one here knew was that Christine was my wife. That was the whole reason I had stayed on as a regular employee in the first place.

Five years ago, the Booths tried to break into the fashion world and failed hard.

Christine's father, Ken Booth, panicked and leaned on an old college connection to find my dad.

They were alumni. Back in school, my family was broke. My dad lived on dry toast for three meals a day.

Ken covered my dad's breakfast and lunch for a full year. My dad never forgot it.

To repay that favor, he sent me to build up the secondhand luxury market.

People flocked in. Luxe Atelier became famous almost overnight, and Christine confessed her feelings to me.

I suspected the Booths wanted to bind me to them that way. I warned her again and again not to gamble her whole life on this.

She insisted on marrying me. I agreed to date her with marriage as the end goal.

And now, she was betraying our marriage, discarding me once I had outlived my usefulness, even replacing me with Stan.

So be it. I had misjudged her.

I clicked my tongue and looked at Stan, my words slow and pointed.

"Christine is my wife. Aren't you worried I'll make things hard for you?"

Stan dragged hard on his cigarette, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What a joke! You're just a low-level employee. Who do you think you're fooling?"

"Yeah," Tom chimed in right away. "Stop dreaming."

I was just about to speak when a BMW pulled up between us.

Christine stepped out, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, and walked straight to Stan. She took his hand, graceful and unhesitating.

"Stan has no reason to worry."