He Fired Me For The Other Woman I Ruined Him

I was the top agent in the entertainment industry.

On the day of the gala event, Evan's newly signed model, Jayne Jones, wore my limited edition jacket and demanded my dismissal, claiming that the style was outdated.

I assumed she didn't know who I was and asked her, "What makes you think you can?"

She hooked her arm around Evan's and lit a cigarette in the non-smoking banquet hall, saying, "Just because this company belongs to my boyfriend, Evan."

I nodded and called the richest man in Arland. The call was answered instantly.

"Mr. Wilson, I've been fired. I can't take on your ten-billion-dollar movie project," I said calmly.

...

I was the top agent in the entertainment industry and one of the founders of Fidelia Entertainment.

The top-floor banquet hall of Fidelia Entertainment was dazzling, celebrating the huge success of the drama series that the company recently invested in.

As soon as I stepped into the gala event, I sensed something was off.

The people's evasive glances and hushed whispers felt like needles piercing through me.

I straightened my tailored suit jacket and walked calmly toward the head table.

My gaze fixed on the abrupt figure beside the main seat-Jayne.

She was the newcomer model Evan had recently signed, against much opposition.

At this moment, she was wrapped in a familiar designer jacket, one I had brought back from Palis last month and hadn't worn yet.

It didn't fit her well, yet she raised her chin like a queen surveying her court.

"Miss Campbell, you're finally here." Jayne's voice was soft but loud enough for several nearby tables to hear. "We were just discussing the company's image. Some outdated trends need a refresh, so they don't become an eyesore."

She waved the champagne glass, her eyes scanning me, "So they don't hold the company back or Evan."

As she spoke, she nestled closer to Evan, who was chatting with a producer and did not stop her from getting close to him.

I didn't pause, walking straight up to her, my gaze sweeping over the jacket she wore. "What makes you think you can wear my clothes and dictate whether I stay or go?"

Jayne's face stiffened, then she skillfully retrieved a cigarette case from Evan's suit pocket, pulling out a slim cigarette and placing it between her lips.

She lit the cigarette, the blue flame leaping, illuminating the defiance in her eyes.

She casually took a drag and exhaled a puff of smoke, tightening her grip on Evan's arm. "The company's my boyfriend's now. Is that reason enough, Miss Campbell?"

The room fell silent instantly.

"Boyfriend?" This word hurt me.

A wave of dizziness hit me, followed by a chilling cold that froze me from my feet to my heart.

But I didn't move.

I forced myself to keep calm.

I looked at her smug expression and sneered. "Jayne, when I registered the company and secured the first investment, you were still trying to catch the camera at some cheap show. Who do you think you are to talk qualifications in front of me?"

"Are you the founder?" Jayne scoffed, flicking ash from her cigarette carelessly, "We all know how you got the title of "founder"-by selling your body. Do you really think you're so capable?"

Her words instantly ignited the room.

Countless eyes scrutinized me.

Jayne thought she had found my weak spot. I had been in a secret relationship with Evan for four years.

To outsiders, I was just his agent, with no standing to limit Evan's choice of romantic partners.

"I'm the model Evan personally selected, and his girlfriend. Don't forget the profits I've recently brought to the company. You do nothing and just get dividends, what makes you think you can compare to me?" Jayne raised her voice.

Several people eager to show loyalty immediately echoed. "Jayne is right! Resources are limited. If veterans don't retire, how will newcomers have a chance? The company relies on Evan and Jayne now. Some useless people should be fired."

Listening to the clamor, I suppressed the rage boiling inside me.

I looked at Jayne coldly. "Jayne, you should know when to stop. If you keep talking, you'll regret it."

Evan finally turned around at this point.

He patted Jayne's hand and then looked at me.

When my gaze met his, my heart was broken.

Evan, whom I had spent seven years elevating from an unknown actor to a superstar.

I once thought I would spend my life with him, but now he was letting another woman hold his arm and publicly humiliating me.

His eyes that once looked at me with tenderness now held only distance.

"Honey," he began, using the address reserved for intimacy, yet his tone was cold. "Jayne is young and naive. She didn't mean any harm. You shouldn't lower yourself to her level."

He stepped forward, lowering his voice. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you. You've worked too hard over the years. Why push yourself so much? Wouldn't it be better to just enjoy life as my wife and let things take their course?"

His gaze swept over the room as his voice rose sharply. "The success of this company today is the result of my relentless efforts. To ensure it thrives in the future, the shares and control need to be reassessed. Mallory, I will ensure you're well-compensated for a worry-free future."

Every word he said broke my heart.

I looked at him and laughed scornfully.

I was blinded by love and wasted seven years of my life.

"Reorganize my shareholding? Evan, do you even hear what you're saying?" I demanded furiously.

I stepped forward abruptly, glaring at him, my voice ringing throughout the banquet hall. "What would you be without me? Back then, you were like a homeless ​​person begging me to take you in. You couldn't even speak properly in front of investors, and I had to teach you again and again. The first time you went on stage to accept an award, your hands were shaking with nervousness. It was I in the audience, encouraging you, that prevented you from embarrassing yourself.

When you couldn't secure investments, I was the one drinking myself sick to secure contracts! When your scandal erupted, I was the one begging the media for three days to withdraw stories. When your mother needed urgent surgery, I knelt before the director for a specialist.

Even the company's name, "Fidelia," is derived from my mother's name. You're now saying this is the company you built through your own hard work?"

Each of my questions made Evan's face turn even paler.

The room was silent, with only my voice reverberating.

Jayne tried to stand up and argue, but I suddenly turned around and, without warning, slapped her across the face.

The sharp slap echoed through the banquet hall.

Jayne staggered back from the blow, crashing against the table edge, the cigarette flying from her hand, scorching a hole in the expensive Persian carpet.

Jayne covered her face, where red finger marks quickly appeared, her eyes filled with fear.

The audience gasped in disbelief.

"This slap is to remind you of your place." I glared down at her, my voice icy.

"You're wearing my clothes and seducing my man?" I grabbed the collar of her jacket, tearing it forcefully.

The expensive fabric made a tearing sound.

Jayne shrieked, frantically covering her chest, utterly humiliated.

"Even if I throw away or destroy my things, you bitch have no right to us them." I flung the torn jacket back at her face.

"Mallory! Are you crazy?" Evan finally roared in anger, stepping forward to seize my wrist.

I shook him off, turning to face him, my eyes blazing with fury. "Am I crazy? Evan, I must be fucking crazy to believe your lies for seven years and give you everything I have!"

I raised my hand and, with all my might, slapped him hard across the face for the first time. "This slap is for the foolish version of me seven years ago."

Then I slapped him a second time. "This slap is for me, the one you used as a stepping stone, then discarded."

The third slap carried my last vestige of strength, hitting him so hard he turned his head. "This slap is for your mother. If she knew how ungrateful you turned out to be, it would break her heart!"

Evan staggered backward, his face swelling, blood seeping at the corner of his mouth.

He stared at me in disbelief, as if seeing me anew.

The hall remained silent, everyone stunned by my outburst.

Breathing heavily, my chest heaved as I faced Evan, whom I had loved for seven years, who had now completely changed. I finally couldn't hold back my tears.

But it wasn't sadness that drove them. It was hate. I hated him.

I hated even more the version of myself that gave everything without reservation.

I wiped away my tears fiercely. My gaze swept over Jayne's pale face and Evan's ashen complexion.

"A celebration banquet? What a fitting day." Moving towards the main table, I picked up a glass of champagne, downed it in a single gulp, then shattered the empty glass to the floor.

The sound of the crystal shattering was piercingly clear. "This toast is for my wasted seven years!"

I picked up another glass and shattered it. "This glass is a toast to the genuine feelings I showed for Evan, a scumbag."

I picked up the third glass, looked at Evan, and my eyes were icy. "Evan, Jayne, see you in court. What you stole from me, I will make you return it to me on your knees, with interest!"

The next day.

In the largest conference room at Fidelia Entertainment, the atmosphere was tense.

On either side of the long table sat the company's executives, key investors, and its top celebrities.

All eyes were on me.

When Evan walked in with Jayne in his arms, the three swollen red marks on his face hadn't faded completely, like unmistakable marks of humiliation.

He saw me seated next to the head seat, his gaze momentarily freezing before a look of annoyance settled in.

"Mallory, do you have to make this a big deal out of this? Are you trying to embarrass me in front of so many people?" He walked up to me, his voice low but warning.

Jayne leaned against him, her face feigning concern, but her eyes were full of provocation. "Evan, don't be angry. Mallory probably just wants one last moment in the spotlight, since she won't have the chance anymore."

I just ignored them.

Evan pulled out a chair and sat down, attempting to maintain a semblance of dignity. "Can't we discuss this privately? I won't shortchange you on your dividends. You can settle down and be my wife. You don't need to work anymore. What's wrong with that?"

"I don't have to work?" I finally looked at him and sneered. "You want me to be a housewife and watch you bring different women home every day? Evan, you're disgusting."

His face darkened instantly. "Mallory," he leaned forward and said angrily, "Think carefully. Once you leave here today, you'll have nothing to do with Fidelia Entertainment. You can leave, but you'll leave with nothing-don't even think about taking a single cent of company shares."

Looking at his familiar yet strange face, I felt absurd.

"Leave with nothing?" I repeated softly, the words echoing clearly in the silent conference room. "Evan, have you forgotten? This company is half mine. When you begged me to attract investment, why didn't you think about taking over the company for yourself? And now that you've gained power, you think you can just kick me out?"

"Exactly!" Jayne suddenly interjected, her voice sharp. "The company relies on Evan now! You're just a washed-up manager. What are you putting on airs for? Hurry up and sign the document, don't waste everyone's time."

Evan didn't stop her. Instead, he tossed a document from his briefcase, sliding it in front of me.

It was the "Share Transfer and Termination Agreement."

The conditions were outrageously harsh.

"Sign it," he leaned back in his chair, eyes cold. "Once you sign, we're done."

The conference room fell into silence. Everyone held their breath, their gaze darting between Evan and me.

I picked up the pen he had pushed over, my fingertips cold.

All my efforts, time, and trust had culminated in this humiliating document.

"Alright. As you wish." My voice was eerily calm.

The pen tip scratched across the paper, making a soft rasping sound. I signed my name.

When I finished the last stroke, I completely gave up on him.

Evan visibly relaxed, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, and," he added as if he suddenly remembered, in a tone as dismissive as instructing a servant, "Don't forget to move your things out of my villa. Jayne doesn't like traces left by other women."

My grip on the pen tightened, knuckles whitening slightly.

Well, we had been together for seven years, and he was in such a hurry to kick me out.

He wouldn't even show me the slightest bit of leniency.

I put down the pen, looked up to meet his triumphant gaze, and suddenly sneered.

"Evan, I hope you won't regret this," I said softly.

He frowned, seemingly wanting to say something. But I didn't give him the chance.

Under everyone's gaze, some surprised, some sympathetic, and some eager for drama, I took out my phone from my handbag, publicly dialed a number, and put it on speaker.

It rang only once before it was quickly answered.

A deep and unmistakable male voice reverberated through the silent conference room via the phone speaker. "Mallory? You rarely call me first."

The moment that voice rang out, the expressions on the faces of half the people in the conference room changed drastically.

Several seasoned investors sat up abruptly, their eyes widening.

A few executives exchanged shocked glances.

Even Evan's smile froze, pupils constricting sharply.

The voice continued, carrying a rare gentleness and a hint of a smile. "Is it about the Oscar-bidding, multi-million-dollar film project we've prepared for? Are you finally ready to start?"

A multi-million-dollar project aiming for an Oscar?

Each word hit everyone's heart.

Facing Evan's suddenly pale face and Jayne's bewildered yet subtly uneasy gaze, I spoke into the phone in a clear and calm tone. "Mr. Wilson, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

I paused, my gaze slowly sweeping over Evan's trembling fingers, and spoke each word with decisive clarity. "I was just fired from my company. So, the multi-million-dollar top film project on your end..."

I sneered, uttering the final few words. "I can't take it on."

As soon as I finished speaking, the conference room fell into a suffocating silence that lasted for ten seconds.

On the other end of the line, Dominick chuckled softly, his voice steady as ever, "It's unfortunate, but if you need assistance, just tell me. I'm always here for you."

I hung up the phone, put it away, and calmly scanned the faces