The Viral Post That Exposed My Husband’s Five Women Chapter 01
The night before our company’s year-end gala, I came across a thread online.
[What did your company give out for year-end bonuses? Tell me so I can be jealous.]
The five most-liked replies had me glued to the screen.
[Not gonna lie, my man owns the company. He makes sure I get one of the company’s Excellence Awards every year, and this year my bonus is equal to two full years of base pay. Cash is still the best.]
[What a coincidence. I’m one of the award winners at my man’s company too. This year he gave me a Rolls-Royce. Says a woman deserves to be spoiled properly.]
[Same here. Mine got me a 3,200-square-foot house. He said it meant we finally had a home of our own.]
[That’s nothing. My man is giving me a five-percent stake in the company. He says giving me his heart isn’t enough—he won’t feel right unless I own part of the company too.]
[Houses and cars are so materialistic. My man’s gift this year is a baby. He even had a one-kilo gold bar made for the baby, engraved with his initials. I’m kind of excited.]
At first, I figured it was just a bunch of rich wives showing off online.
Then, the longer I looked, the straighter I sat.
The bank card in the first photo—the one she was using to show off that supposed two-year bonus—had my name on it.
The Rolls-Royce was titled in my name, and the 3,200-square-foot house belonged to me.
The stock transfer agreement had been blurred, but not well enough to hide my company’s name.
The most ridiculous part was the gold bar. My husband, Ryan Mercer, had his initials engraved right on it.
Then something clicked.
There were exactly five recipients of our annual Excellence Awards this year.
I took a slow breath and called my assistant. “Send me the names of this year’s five Excellence Award recipients.”
…
After the call, my phone returned to the thread.
Apparently, none of those women had realized they were all sharing the same man. They were eagerly replying to every comment.
I took another breath and replied to one of them.
[A bonus equal to two years’ salary? Is that card actually yours?]
Her answer came almost immediately.
[If it isn’t mine, whose is it—yours?]
[Forget the bonus. I even set my own salary at $10,000 a month.]
[It’s my man’s company. I can give myself whatever bonus I want. Why are you so bitter?]
A swarm of other users piled on right behind her.
[$10,000 a month? Then a two-year bonus is $240,000! He spoils you rotten!]
[Girl, you tell her! You can tell she’s a gold digger. She’s just bitter because she couldn’t land a rich guy herself!]
[Exactly! She landed her man fair and square. What’s it to you how much he gives her?]
[Now you’re trying to claim her card too? Who do you think you are?]
I ignored them.
Instead, I remembered that Finance did, in fact, have an employee named Brianna Cole.
She made $10,000 a month and had received an Excellence Award two years in a row.
Ryan had explained at the time, “Babe, she went to a top university. Companies were fighting to hire her.”
“Trust me. I know talent when I see it. Someone like her is worth paying top dollar to bring in.”
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time.
So that was how she’d ended up making ten grand a month.
I collected myself and opened the other replies again.
There was the luxury car. There was the house. There was the stock transfer agreement. And then there was the gold bar engraved with Ryan’s initials.
I zoomed in on the photos again and again, and the whole thing suddenly struck me as absurd.
Ryan had married me with nothing to his name. I’d put him in charge of my company only five years ago, and he’d already been keeping five women on the side.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
My assistant, Maya Collins, called me back. “Ms. Ashford, I sent you the list.”
I opened our chat and found the five names.
First was Brianna Cole from Finance.
Then came Kelsey Grant from Administration, Lauren Pierce from Business Development, executive assistant Alyssa Parker, and Chloe Bennett from Facilities.
I stared at those five names for several seconds, my finger motionless over the screen.
“What have any of these five actually done for the company?”
Maya paused, suddenly hesitant. “Mr. Mercer chose them himself. He said they were selected based on overall performance.”
I scoffed. “So that’s a no.”
“Our finance director has been here for ten years and has never won once. What has Brianna done to deserve it?”
“And Kelsey in Administration hasn’t even been here a year, according to her résumé. How did she make the list?”
“No wonder so many longtime employees have been leaving over the last few years. So this is why.”
I had barely involved myself in the company for the past five years, and Maya knew it.
After a moment, she drew a breath. “Ms. Ashford, do you want me to change the list?”
I looked at the wedding photo of Ryan and me on my desk and fell silent for a moment.
“Not yet. Keep this to yourself for now.”
After hanging up, I pulled Ryan’s backup tablet out of his desk drawer.
His work messaging account was still logged in, though the chat list was spotless.
I smiled, opened each of the five conversations, and sent the exact same message.
Ryan: [Baby, I’ve been thinking. Tomorrow night at the company gala, I’m going to tell everyone about us, and I’ll give you the year-end reward I promised you then too.]
Less than a minute later, five replies came in almost at once.
