He Called Me Her Assistant

After my boyfriend died saving the billionaire CEO Tristan Fu, my severe depression relapsed. To fulfill the promise I made to him—to stay alive and live well— I accepted Tristan's marriage proposal. After our wedding, he tried to mimic my late boyfriend, watching over me around the clock. In my dazed state of mind, I often fooled myself into thinking I was living happily with my boyfriend again. Three years into our marriage, Tristan's first love, Kelly Zhang, returned. He spent hundreds of millions backing Kelly, desperate to turn her into a massive superstar. Anyone who dared to upset Kelly was swiftly erased from New York's elite circles. He went so far as to protect Kelly's pristine public image that when the paparazzi caught a glimpse of me, he didn't blink an eye as he declared to the cameras, "Yulia is just a personal assistant I handpicked for Kelly." Overnight, I became the laughingstock of the city. Everyone mocked me for clinging to the Fu family so desperately that I was willing to swallow my pride and work as Kelly's humble assistant. I said nothing. Because in that moment, I realized with absolute clarity: Tristan was not the man who loved me. Since that was the case, it was finally time for me to walk away. I went straight to Tristan's mother. "Are you certain you want a divorce?" Mrs. Fu took an elegant sip of her coffee and set the porcelain cup down. Her haughty gaze swept over me from head to toe, dripping with sheer disdain. She had always looked down on me. She still did. "Yes." My voice was calm and steady. "I remember you telling me that if I ever agreed to a divorce, you had the power to make it happen quietly. I turned you down back then, but now I've changed my mind. I want to finalize this divorce from Tristan as soon as possible. How long will it take?" "A month," she answered indifferently, looking as if she wanted to say more. I cut in before she could speak. "Don't worry. Once I sign those papers, I won't take a single cent from your family." A flicker of surprise broke through Mrs. Fu's icy composure. Without another word, I stood up and walked out. The moment my heels stepped beyond the grand gates of the Fu estate, a wave of profound relief washed over my chest for the first time in three years. I tapped my phone screen to wake it. A bright, smiling boy filled the lock screen. Julian, if only you hadn't jumped into that water to save him back then... If you hadn't, wouldn't we be the ones living happily together right now? Still, it's okay. Everything is finally coming to an end. Bitterness and heartache tightened in my throat. I drew in a deep, steadying breath, shut off the screen, and strode forward. Just a few steps down the private driveway, the sharp screech of tires broke the silence. I looked up to see a sleek black Maybach pulling smoothly up to the estate gates. The passenger door clicked open, and a pair of designer heels stepped out. It was Kelly. She gracefully rounded the hood and looped her arm intimately through Tristan's. The two of them walked side by side, sharing an easy, laughing conversation. My entire body froze. The blood in my veins turned to ice. In truth... Right after Julian died saving him, Tristan had treated me with absolute devotion. He used to stay by my side every waking hour, doing everything he could to coax a smile onto my face whenever grief consumed me. To protect me, he had even defied his family's orders, brushed aside everyone's objections, and married an ordinary woman who offered zero status or wealth to his empire. On my birthday, he lit up the entire city skyline with private fireworks. That night, beneath the canopy of blazing colors, standing at the pinnacle of the city, he held out a diamond ring and asked me to marry him. He had said, "Yulia, I know losing Julian shattered you. From now on, let me take his place and care for you. Just give me a chance, Yulia." When he was trying to love me, even the slightest furrow of my brow made him panic. Yet somehow, without my noticing, everything changed. His demeanor toward me grew colder by the day. Financial markets, investments, and portfolio gains were the only things he ever talked about, topics I knew nothing about. He began to look down on my simple hobbies with visible irritation. He would scoff, "Yulia, you're Mrs. Fu now. Stop obsessing over these cheap, lowbrow interests. As your husband, watching you indulge in them makes me feel cheapened." When those words left his mouth that afternoon, I froze for a long, long time. I failed to keep the promise I made to Julian—never to lose myself in any relationship. Desperate to close the growing chasm between us, I began clumsily trying to please him. I memorized his tastes, studied obscure, dense business texts just to have something in common with him. Yet every time I tried to start a conversation, he would cut me off with blatant impatience. He would say, "Yulia, some things are bred in the bone. Either you belong in this world or you don't. This clumsy imitation only makes you look pathetic." To this day, I could never forget the dead look in his eyes when he said that. Nor could I forget the sharp, tearing agony in my chest. Still, a small part of me refused to let go. I told myself he was born a high-society prince; it was only natural for him to be emotionally detached. Until Kelly suddenly returned from abroad. Until I watched him—a man who famously despised the media—break his own golden rules to sit for joint interviews just for her, letting her openly flirt with him on camera. Around Kelly, Tristan was no longer an unyielding glacier. His gaze followed her with boundless warmth and tenderness. The tabloids called them a match made in heaven, the golden couple. And throughout this entire spectacle, I was quietly stripped of my already unacknowledged title as his wife, reduced to nothing more than an invisible prop. Leaving was the only choice I had left. I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the picture-perfect couple just a few yards away, turning on my heel to walk off. Suddenly, a sweet, breathy voice called out from behind."Yulia!" Kelly slipped her arm from Tristan's and hurried over to me. Beaming with feigned warmth, she caught my hand. "What a coincidence! Tristan and I had some free time today to visit his mother, and I had no idea you'd be here too." She looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes, looking entirely harmless. But only I knew the deep, venomous resentment hidden behind that delicate gaze. I brushed her hand off my arm without a word, stepping sideways to leave. Tristan stepped forward, blocking my path entirely. "Yulia, what are you doing here?" His questioning tone was cold and sharp. Looking up, I was met with raw suspicion and disgust written plainly across his handsome face. "Did you run here to complain to my mother about Kelly and me again? Or did you predict we were coming and showed up just to cause a scene?" "Yulia, I've told you before, Kelly and I are just—" "You flatter yourself," I cut him off before he could finish. Looking into his icy eyes, I felt no pain. Not a single prickle of heartbreak remained. "I'm not that childish," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. A flicker of stunned surprise crossed his face. His eyes locked onto mine. It made sense. Ever since Kelly came back, our already fragile marriage had gone into a sharp freefall. We'd fought about her more times than I could count. But now, I was done playing along. "I have errands to run. Excuse me." Without waiting for him to process it, I turned my back on them and walked away. Not long after I left, my phone buzzed with an incoming text from Kelly. It was a batch of candid photos of her and Tristan inside the Fu estate. Along with... a video. In the clip, Kelly was sitting right next to Tristan on the plush sofa. Mrs. Fu was seated gracefully on one side, with Tristan's younger sister on the other, all of them laughing and chatting in high spirits. Unlike the disdain she reserved for me, Mrs. Fu wore a radiant, genuine smile. They looked like a warm, loving family. Naturally. In the eyes of the Fu family, Kelly was the only daughter-in-law they had ever truly wanted. In the past, seeing these photos would have made me spiral into frantic, suffocating heartbreak. I would have called Tristan, crying and demanding an explanation. Now, my heart was a still, frozen lake. I casually typed out a few words: [You look great together. Congratulations.] Then, I locked the screen. I ignored it completely. That night, as usual, Tristan didn't come home. Right on schedule, a trending headline popped up on my news feed: [Fu Group CEO Spotted at Family Estate with A-List Star Kelly Zhang: Wedding Bells Soon?] In the high-definition photo, Kelly held Tristan's arm affectionately. Tristan was gazing down at her, eyes dripping with adoration. They looked like the ultimate power couple. The comment section was buzzing with thousands of replies. [Omg, she is stunning! And Mr. Fu is ridiculously handsome.] [They literally belong together!] [When is he proposing?! I need this wedding of the century right now!!!] ... I scrolled down to see endless waves of praise and blessings. I closed the app, having no desire to read more. Just as I was pulling back the sheets to sleep, my phone screen lit up with an incoming call. Seeing the caller ID, I paused. It was one of Tristan's closest fraternity brothers. Ever since we got married, Tristan had kept me completely hidden from his inner circle, let alone inviting me to their private hangouts. Why was his friend calling me now? Lost in thought, my thumb accidentally brushed the screen, answering the line. "Hey, Yulia. Tristan got completely wasted at the Velvet Lounge downtown. Can you come pick him up?" "What?" I froze. If he was drunk, shouldn't Kelly be the one taking care of him? By all rights, Kelly should be right beside him. I wanted to ask more, but the line immediately went dead, and calling back went straight to voicemail. After weighing it over, I got changed and headed out into the night.I arrived at the lounge his friend had mentioned, checked the VIP suite number, and walked up to the heavy door on the second floor. Just as I was about to turn the handle, bursts of mocking laughter drifted through the crack. "Is she here yet?" "Hey, Tristan, do you really think she'll show up? It's past midnight. What if Yulia gets here, realizes we played her for a fool, and makes a scene?" "Even if she does, she brought it on herself. Zero self-awareness. Kelly's back in town, and that woman still won't walk away from the marriage. Her skin is thicker than a brick wall." After a few moments of crude snickering, Kelly's sweet voice chimed in with a mock rebuke. "Alright, guys, that's enough. Don't talk about her like that. What Tristan and I had was in the past. It's over." "Over? Come on, Kelly, you have no idea how much Tristan missed you while you were away." "Seriously, the only reason he married Yulia in the first place was to make you jealous. Who would've thought—" What?! The chatter outside the door hit my ears with horrifying clarity. Tristan hadn't married me out of lingering love or obligation back then. It was... to get back at her? In an instant, a loud ringing roared in my head. My world spun violently. "Exactly, Yulia actually thinks Tristan ever cared about her..." The mocking voices continued inside. Until Tristan's deep voice cut through the noise. "Enough. Drop it." The lounge fell dead silent. Someone quickly tried to smooth things over. "Yeah, fair enough. Looking at the clock, Yulia should... be pulling up any minute." The moment those words dropped, I shoved the heavy door open. "Yu—Yulia!" The speaker's voice choked in his throat. In an instant, every single set of eyes swung toward me. "Yulia, you made it!" Kelly was the first to bounce up, wearing an expression that was half apologetic, half wide-eyed innocence. I didn't acknowledge her. My gaze locked directly onto Tristan, sitting in the center of the leather sectional. His eyes were crystal clear. There was not a trace of alcohol in his system. Then I turned my eyes to Liam, the friend who had called me. He averted his gaze, sheepish. "Yulia, you're not mad, are you? We were just playing Truth or Dare, and Liam lost. It was just a harmless prank." A harmless prank? A dry laugh caught in my throat. Looking at the fake, dripping innocence plastered on her face, my stomach turned. I ripped my arm out of her grasp and turned to walk away. Suddenly, Kelly let out a sharp cry and collapsed backward onto the plush carpet. "Yulia! I just wanted to invite you to hang out with us. Why did you shove me?" The second she hit the floor, every pair of eyes in the room turned on me with open hostility. "Yulia! What the hell is wrong with you? Kelly was just being nice to you, did you really have to push her?" "Vicious bitch. She's obviously just jealous because Kelly is a million times prettier than her." "She's completely twisted. How could anyone lay a hand on someone as sweet as Kelly?" ... I stood under the neon lights, looking at their sneering faces, my voice dead cold. "Are you done playing your little games?" They looked back at me, completely unapologetic. "It was a joke! Can't you take a joke?" "Right? It's not even that late. We invited you out of the goodness of our hearts, and you come in here throwing hands?" The goodness of your hearts? I let out a bitter, humorless scoff. Not wanting to waste another second breathing the same air as these people, I spun around to leave. Yet I had barely taken two steps before a heavy hand clamped onto my wrist with bruising force, jerking me backward. "Apologize." Tristan's voice dropped over me, freezing and completely devoid of human warmth. "Forget it, Tristan," Kelly interjected weakly from the couch, wiping imaginary dust off her designer skirt. "Yulia's probably just feeling emotional tonight. I'm totally fine, don't be too hard on her." That single sentence firmly sealed my guilt in everyone's eyes. Instantly, the sneers directed at me turned to pure disgust, while their glances toward Kelly overflowed with pity. "Why should I apologize?" I yanked my wrist free from his grip. In the past, I would have shrunk back. I would have yielded just to keep the peace. But right now, I had less than a month left before my divorce went through. Why on earth should I apologize? The second the words left my lips, Tristan's expression darkened into an ominous, furious scowl. His voice dropped to an absolute zero. "Yulia. Apologize to her. I won't say it a third time." "Then let me make myself crystal clear," I said, meeting his murderous eyes without flinching. "I won't!" My tone was absolute. The moment the words echoed through the room, I spun around and bolted out the door. Behind me, a chorus of sharp gasps filled the lounge.