PART 3
Ten years earlier, Brendan had no chauffeur, no Italian suits, and no corner office in downtown. He was just a struggling sales executive at a small building materials company. He lived with Claire in a modest apartment and spoke with shame about all the doors that had been closed to him because he lacked high-society connections.
That was exactly how I met him back then.
I fell in love precisely because he seemed different from the ambitious men who had spent their entire lives revolving around my family’s wealth.
My grandfather, the original founder of Pinnacle Enterprises, had left me in full charge of the group when he passed away. His last piece of advice to me was simple: never confuse those who admire your wealth with those who actually love you. That was why I kept my identity out of the public eye for a full decade. The board was the public face, and I authorized all strategic decisions from a secure private office.
When I married Brendan, I hid my vast personal assets from him entirely. I truly wanted to know if he could build a real life with me without depending on my powerful last name.
At first, he was a caring and hardworking husband.
Then I decided to secretly help his stalled career forward.
I instructed Human Resources to consider him for an executive vacancy at Pinnacle Enterprises. Then, without his knowledge, I corrected strategic mistakes that were about to fail and sent anonymous recommendations from the chair’s office. His corporate career began to take off like a rocket.
Brendan foolishly believed that everything was purely a product of his raw talent.
I allowed him to believe it because I loved seeing him confident.
Five years before the banquet, I pushed the board for his official appointment as CEO. The house in La Jolla, a luxury SUV, an executive sedan, and a sports car were all part of the corporate benefit package. Claire started organizing lavish lunches to boast that her son had conquered the business world entirely from scratch.
For them, I continued to be just the woman who did the grocery shopping, organized the house, and supposedly lived off Brendan’s money.
Power didn’t change Brendan over time; it merely revealed the awful person he already was deep down.
He started arriving home late every night, and then he stopped coming home altogether. He constantly criticized my clothes, my quiet friends, and even the natural way I spoke.
“A modern CEO needs a stunning wife who reflects his high social level,” he told me bluntly one night.
Claire was even worse to deal with on a daily basis.
Three months before the anniversary party, she threw a hot bowl of soup I had prepared directly onto the floor and yelled at me.
“Ten years together and you haven’t even been able to give him an heir! Do my son a massive favor and get a divorce, because Sabrina actually belongs in his world,” Claire screamed at me back then.
That exact same week, I received the confidential internal report that changed everything.
An internal audit detected 18.4 million dollars sent to three fake advertising agencies with no real staff, no verifiable campaigns, and with contracts approved directly by Brendan.
