5. Office Drama
1103 Words
Emma stood before the mirror one last time. The wine red dress she wore was definitely not her to-go color. The day wasn't normal either. She usually didn't book hotel rooms to have... s*x either.
She applied some make up before leaving the room. In her phone she checked the bank account. And a sigh left her lips. After paying the debt and medical bills she barely had anything left in her account.
Paying ten grand a week will be a bit too much. I have to ask for money from Oliver again.
She checked the clock once. It was almost five and obviously Oliver still wasn't back.
Emma barely went to the Jones corporation. Very few knew her as the CEO's wife, but everyone knew Oliver and Shelby were close, like a couple.
But seeing no other option was left, she decided to show up in the office.
What could be worse? I may run into Shelby again and the most she could do was throwing a tantrum... that's all.
Emma drove to the Jones Corporation, and stepped into the huge building. As she approached the reception, the receptionist stared at her coldly, “hello, how can I help you?”
Emma calmly removed her sunglasses and leaned forward on the reception desk.
“I’m here to see my husband. Oliver Jones.”
The receptionist blinked, startled. For a moment, she was speechless. Shelby had been coming and going from the company as if she owned the place, and everyone assumed she was Mrs. Jones. Now, a new woman was claiming that title—and with such calm authority.
She eyed Emma skeptically.
“We get women like you every week. How do I know you’re not lying?”
Emma smiled coolly. She had expected this.
Without a word, she reached into her purse and pulled out a folded document, placing it on the desk with deliberate grace. “Here. This is our marriage certificate.”
The receptionist leaned in and blinked, stunned. The document looked entirely legitimate.
Just then, Shelby stepped through the front doors, dressed to kill as always. The receptionist immediately stood, her demeanor changing in a flash. “Miss Brown, good evening.”
“Good evening,” Shelby replied with her signature smile—until her gaze landed on Emma. Her steps faltered.
“What are you doing here?”
Before Emma could respond, the receptionist answered, still half-confused.
“She claims to be Mrs. Jones. She even showed me a marriage certificate.”
Shelby froze, her smile twitching ever so slightly. But Emma was quicker.
“So the mistress walks in unchecked,” Emma said, her voice sharp but poised, “while the wife has to show proof?”
A few heads in the lobby turned.
Shelby’s expression darkened. Being exposed as a mistress was the last thing she could afford. She was a top model, her career built on image and prestige. Scandal could ruin everything—not just professionally, but also her chances with Oliver.
“Let me see,” She reached for the certificate, her hand trembling slightly as she examined it.
“These documents can be forged,” she said coldly. “I didn’t think you’d stoop this low, Emma. All for a man like Oliver?”
Emma arched a brow, her voice dangerously calm. “You’re right. He’s not worth it. But my name on that paper is.”
"This is fake," Shelby threw the certificate at the receptionist as she continued her tantrum, "can't you tell by looking? Honestly I don’t know why Oliver kept people like you around!"
That b***h! Emma wanted to slap her hard, as Shelby kept running her mouth. But she knew it was useless. Hence, instead she took out her phone and called Oliver.
“Oh, are you calling Oliver? I think he doesn't pick up unless the number is saved,” Shelby added for everyone to hear.
You might be the wife, Emma but I am the only one in his heart. Shelby thought with a smile. And he never picks up your phone anyway.
And as she expected, Oliver didn't answer Emma’s phone. The receptionist became suspicious as well.
Shelby looked at the receptionist and spoke out loud, “many women are after Oliver. And I don't blame them. But it's your job to keep them out of the office. Why haven't you called the security yet?”
Emma was bewildered for a second. Rage built up under her skin. She typed quickly to Oliver over message, “get your ass down here at the reception in three minutes. Or I will get Grandpa involved and tell him about your little mistress.”
Emma knew Oliver could ignore her call, but he wouldn't ignore the message specially when it was about his inheritance or Shelby.
The receptionist on the other hand stood up and said to Emma, “Miss, please leave the premises.”
“Give me three minutes. Your CEO will be here.” Emma muttered.
Oliver frowned as he received the message. The Emma he married was quiet, dutiful and never cared about his relationship with Shelby. Neither had she ever come to the office.
He hurried down quickly to find Emma standing by the reception. Then his eyes met Shelby.
Emma looked so different in the dress she wore, almost unrecognizable.
As soon as Shelby saw Oliver, her face drained of color. She rushed to his side, voice dripping with sugar.
“Babe, what are you doing here?”
Before Oliver could respond, Emma stepped in coolly. “He’s here to see his wife. Not his mistress.”
Shelby flinched, as she complained, “Babe, did you hear that? She’s insulting me again.”
Emma let out a dry laugh.
“Insulting you? By calling you a mistress? What else should I call you— a w***e? Or a leech feeding off a married man?”
Gasps rippled through the office. Employees who had gathered to witness the scene began to murmur.
“Wait… so Miss Brown isn’t his wife?”
“Unbelievable. She’s just the sidepiece?”
“That woman— is that Mrs. Jones? She’s gorgeous.”
“Is our CEO seriously cheating?”
The whispers grew louder, shame wrapping around Oliver like a noose. His jaw clenched.
“That’s enough, Emma,” he snapped. “Why are you here?”
Emma stepped forward, her heels clicking against the floor. She grabbed Oliver’s wrist, yanked him away from Shelby, and leaned in close, her voice low and venomous.
“I need a hundred thousand. Cash or card, husband?”
- Writer
