Chapter 122
"Am I wrong?"
She still remembered one time when he wore her out so badly that she couldn't get out of bed the next day. That evening, he worked late and had someone deliver the latest Hermès bag with a card that read, 'Thanks for your hard work, this is compensation.'
If this wasn't payment for sex, what was it?
What normal married couple keeps score like this, calculates everything so clearly, and needs to give compensation?
William felt she was impossible to communicate with right now. He'd sent her a gift and somehow got it wrong—he spent money to buy himself trouble?
Ungrateful.
"If you don't want it, just throw it away!"
Ava was shocked by his casual attitude. Never mind how many bags were in the storage room—just the ones in the bedroom closet alone were worth tens of millions, and he was telling her to throw them away.
A sudden feeling of resentment toward the rich rose in her heart. She designed for SWAN and only made a few million a year, and she'd invested that money in stocks, leaving not much pocket money on hand. Ava had always thought she wasn't materialistic—except for buying jewelry, nothing else interested her.
Tens of millions worth of stuff, and he talked about throwing it away so casually, as easy as tossing out an old T-shirt. Could he show some respect for poor people?
"I'll keep them. If you go bankrupt someday, I can sell them and live comfortably for the rest of my life."
William snorted with laughter.
"You want me to go bankrupt?"
After a moment, he added, "If I ever go bankrupt, I'll sell your jewelry first."
Ava was annoyed. He wasn't joking at all—after all, he'd actually sold her stuff once before. She glared at him with her fox-like eyes, thinking about where to hide her precious things. Having this bastard constantly eyeing them was dangerous—who knows when he might take them out to give to clients.
The more she thought about it, the more insecure she felt.
"If you dare sell them, I'll dare buy them back."
William thought about the money she'd blown last time. He'd already arranged for people to buy the items back at auction, but her appearance made him throw away so much extra money, and she didn't feel bad about it at all.
"Your man's money is hard-earned, too. Spend it more carefully. At least spend it where it counts."
Ava didn't understand what he meant by "where it counts." She normally never used his card—only swiped it a few times when he made her really angry. She pulled out the black card from her bag and tossed it onto his lap.
"You keep this card. Everything at home is purchased regularly by staff; I don't need to buy anything."
She'd barely used his card, and now she was being accused of spending recklessly. What was she getting out of this? As if she cared. She was about to access the trust her mother had set up, and the dividends from the Brown Group shares her grandmother had left her were coming soon. She'd spent quite a bit on stocks recently, but she now had enough shares and didn't need to buy more.
Her little nest egg was about to get very healthy. With her own money, who needed to spend his?
William looked at the rejected card, his brow furrowed tight. For the first time, he realized that being needed was also a kind of happiness. This woman used to cling to him for everything, depend on him—she'd even ask him to help open a bottle of water, and practically wanted to follow him to work.
Now she was independent to a frightening degree. He inexplicably felt her drifting further and further away from him, so far that she almost didn't need him anymore.
William looked at the slender woman. When she was docile, she was like a cat being petted. When she got stubborn, he had no way to handle her.
With James sitting in the car, he wouldn't do those wife-appeasing things in front of his subordinate. If she didn't want it, fine.
William put the card back in his wallet.
Getting back to business—since the personal conversation had crashed, he talked to her about work.
"I can't approve your resignation email yet. The company needs you."
Ava laughed coldly. "Legend has it the Morgan Group's design department is full of top talent. You still need a lowly design assistant like me?"
William heard the sarcasm in her words.
"Starting as an assistant is company policy. I can't break the rules just because you're my wife. If you're unhappy with the design assistant position, I'll promote you right now."
Ava found it ridiculous. "You say new hires start as assistants—then what about Sarah?"
Everyone in the industry knew Sarah came in as chief designer, making everyone in design circles envious. How come the company policy didn't apply to Sarah?
William lost his patience after being challenged.
"Ava, how can you compare yourself to Sarah? She had real achievements abroad back then. I recruited her as chief designer without any favoritism. Even though she's caught up in plagiarism scandals now, she truly deserves that position."
Ava felt bitter. Why did he have to put her down while praising Sarah?
He kept saying he showed Sarah no favoritism, but hadn't he done enough for her? He let her use the executive elevator; she could use his parking spot whenever she wanted. The first time she was exposed for plagiarism, he acted like he didn't see it. The second time, he only terminated her contract because of public pressure, afraid it would hurt the Morgan Group.
Which company boss would do so much for an employee?
Anyone lucky enough to meet such a good boss would think their ancestors' graves were smoking with good fortune.
And his kindness toward Sarah was as natural as breathing—he was so used to it he didn't even notice anymore.
This was what Ava feared most. Sarah had become part of his life, a habit he simply couldn't break.
He promised their marriage wouldn't include Sarah, yet he continued to care for this third person in their marriage with meticulous attention, giving Sarah both hope and the confidence to keep causing trouble.
Ava wondered—would he ever say a harsh word to Sarah in his lifetime?
William immediately called the HR manager.
"Promote Ava to Level 1 Designer. Prepare the contract right away. We'll sign it when we get to the office."
The HR manager said something, and William gave a few more instructions about the contract.
After hanging up, Ava asked,
"Is this really necessary?"
She was determined not to stay at the Morgan Group.
William was at his wits' end with this woman. All she wanted now was to escape from him.
"Ava, you're the designer of the company's main collection for the new season. You're an employee of the design department and the wife of the Morgan Group's boss. For both personal and professional reasons, you can't resign immediately. At least stay until after the company's launch event."
Ava fell silent. Staying until after the launch was her bottom line. She didn't want to be at the Morgan Group at all, didn't want any more messy entanglements with him. The tangled emotions in her head were still unresolved—she couldn't invite more unnecessary trouble.
She needed to let her heart settle before deciding whether to stay with him or leave. She was waiting for him to take a stance on Sarah, but he seemed to have no intention of taking that step.
No matter how much trouble Sarah caused, he never completely gave up on her. That childhood bond seemed like it could sustain Sarah for a lifetime.
"I'll agree not to resign for now, but please agree to sign that resignation letter after the launch."
The car fell into deathly silence again.
The conversation the whole way had been exhausting, one argument after another.
William felt tired. He'd left unfinished work, driven through the night at high speed to pick her up and bring her back, and except for one good night's sleep, he'd had no peace.
And he'd come back injured.
This woman didn't feel sorry for him at all—she just fought with him.
"Whatever you want!"
He threw the words at her. If she didn't want to go, fine. The Morgan Group didn't depend on her alone anyway. Keeping her at home would actually be more reassuring—at least she wouldn't attract the attention of sketchy men.