Public Betrayal: My Husband's COO

At our company's launch party, while I was pregnant with our child, my husband's COO, Dorian, slid her hand into his.

She leaned in and purred that she was already "taking care of" his unique needs, a public declaration of their affair.

My husband, Bryon, just laughed nervously, his classic tell when he was caught.

The next morning, after I'd made the gut-wrenching decision to terminate our pregnancy, I saw them again.

I stumbled and fell to the pavement. Bryon rushed to my side, but when Dorian faked a dizzy spell, he abandoned me on the ground without a second thought to cradle her in his arms.

Lying there, forgotten on the dirty sidewalk, I finally understood. He didn't just cheat; he had no care for me or the child I had just lost. All my love and sacrifice meant nothing.

As he walked away with her, I pulled out my phone.

"Dad," I said, my voice ice-cold, "Pull every penny from AuraTech. And get me the best lawyers. I need divorce papers and a termination of pregnancy consent form. Tonight."

Chapter 1

Hazel Horton POV:

Dorian Gay's voice, syrupy sweet and laced with venom, cut through the din of the AuraTech launch party, twisting the knife in my gut before I even saw her hand slide into my husband' s. She leaned in close to Bryon, her lips almost brushing his ear, making sure every word carried across the pulsating bass and excited chatter of our employees. My stomach, swollen with our baby, tightened.

"Bryon's needs are... unique, honey," Dorian purred, pulling back just enough to level a condescending smirk at me. Her androgynous haircut, usually so sharp, seemed to soften right then, an insidious trick of the light. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I'm already taking care of him."

The words hung there, thick and ugly. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a declaration. A public stripping of my dignity, handed to me on a silver platter by the woman who was supposed to be my husband's COO and "best friend." A woman who, for months, had casually dismissed my concerns about their inappropriate closeness as jealousy, as feminine overthinking.

Bryon, my charismatic co-founder and the man I' d built this empire beside, let out a nervous chuckle. His eyes, usually so quick to meet mine, darted away. He adjusted his tie, a tell I knew too well. That laugh, that slight shift in his gaze, it was his default setting when he was caught. It was his way of saying, She' s just joking, Hazel. Why are you so sensitive?

My breath hitched. The champagne flute in my hand felt impossibly heavy. Every nerve ending in my body screamed, a raw, primal protest against the brazen insult. This wasn' t just a flirtation. This was a hostile takeover, right in front of everyone.

I could feel the murmurs rise, the sudden hushed tones that ripple through a crowd when something scandalous breaks. Heads