After three years of marriage, I was reduced to a yellow-faced woman. In exchange, my husband said: "Besides cooking, what else do you do?"
On my third wedding anniversary, I received two text messages.
One is from my husband: "I'm working overtime and I won't come back."
The other was a photo sent by a strange woman—my husband, cutting a steak for her.
After three years of hard work, the dog was fed. I signed the divorce agreement in front of him.
He sneered: "Su Wanqing, you can't live without me!"
A week later, the company appointed a new CEO.
In the dead silence of the entire audience, I stepped on high heels and walked up to my ex-husband, who looked pale.
"Manager Li," I knocked on his desk with a smile, "from today on, your fate is in my control."
And all this is just the first step for me to return to the throne.
