An Intern Threw Coffee On Me, Proclaiming The Ceo Was Her Husband. So I Called Him…

After the press conference, Mark was completely ostracized. He lost not only his job and reputation but was also relentlessly attacked by the public. Friends who once fawned over him now avoided his calls. The money he had managed to hide was quickly depleted by the PR firm’s fees and his own lavish spending habits.

Desperate and broke, Mark remembered the expensive gifts he had lavished on Tiffany: the luxury condo, the car, the designer jewelry. He decided it was his property and he had the right to take it back to pay his debts and hire a lawyer.

He showed up at her condo—the one my lawyers had put a lien on but hadn’t yet seized—drunk and furious, banging on the door. When Tiffany opened it, her expression was not one of longing, but of pure contempt. She too was facing ruin, fired, broke, and publicly shamed.

“What are you doing here?” she sneered. “Come to leech off me? I’m about to be on the street myself.”

“Give me back the car keys and all the jewelry I gave you!” Mark screamed, storming into the apartment. “It was my money. You have to give it back.”

“Your money?” Tiffany laughed mockingly. “That was the money you stole from the hospital. It’s evidence now. Did you think I was stupid enough to keep it and go to jail with you? I sold it all to pay my fines and legal fees.”

Hearing this, Mark snapped. He lunged at Tiffany, but this time, she fought back. She clawed at his face, bit his arm, fighting like a cornered animal.

“You pathetic loser! You dare hit me again? I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

A vicious brawl ensued. The sound of breaking furniture and shouting filled the hallway, and neighbors called the police. When the NYPD arrived, they found a pathetic scene. Mark and Tiffany, clothes torn and faces bruised, were wrestling on a floor littered with broken glass.

They were both arrested for disorderly conduct and assault. The next day, photos of Mark in handcuffs, his face swollen, sitting next to a disheveled Tiffany, appeared online with the caption: Bitter End: Disgraced CEO and Mistress Brawl Over Stolen Fortune.

Reading the news, I felt no satisfaction, only a sad pity for lives ruined by their own greed.

A month later, the divorce proceedings began. Mark sat opposite me in court with a state-appointed public defender. He looked 10 years older, his hair streaked with gray. The judge reviewed the mountain of evidence against him. He pled guilty to everything. He knew it was hopeless.

When the judge granted me sole custody of our children, he finally broke down and sobbed, perhaps the last shred of his humanity surfacing. As he was being led away to face his criminal trial, he passed by me and whispered, “I’m sorry, Catherine.”

I didn’t reply. An apology now was meaningless. I turned and walked toward the sunlit doors of the courthouse. David was waiting for me outside, a warm smile on his face. The sky over New York was a brilliant, clear blue, heralding a new beginning.

In the aftermath, I poured all my energy into rebuilding Apex. With David by my side as CEO, we purged the corruption Mark had left behind and revitalized the hospital’s mission. Apex not only recovered but thrived, becoming a beacon of medical excellence and integrity.

Mark was sentenced to 20 years in federal prison for embezzlement. Tiffany, I heard, ended up working at a rundown convenience store in a small town in the Midwest. Her dreams of fame and fortune were reduced to the quiet beep of a cash register.

One year after that fateful day, on a crisp autumn evening, David took me to dinner at a quiet restaurant overlooking the Hudson River. After the meal, he slid a small, elegantly wrapped box across the table. Inside was not a diamond ring, but a stunning, intricately detailed crystal model of a human heart.

“Catherine,” he began, his voice filled with an emotion that spanned 16 years. “I’m a cardiologist. I’ve spent my life studying the heart, but the one heart I’ve never fully understood is yours. This crystal heart represents my feelings for you: transparent, unconditional, and constant. I know you’ve been hurt, and your heart needs time to heal. Would you let me be your personal physician and take care of that heart for the rest of your life?”

Tears of happiness streamed down my face. I looked from the crystal heart to the man before me—the boy from med school, the brilliant doctor, the man who had been my anchor in the storm.

“Yes, Dr. Chen,” I whispered, smiling through my tears. “I will. But you have to promise me this treatment plan lasts a lifetime.”

Five years later, we stood side by side, cutting the ribbon for the new, state-of-the-art Catherine Hayes Wing of Apex University Hospital. Later that afternoon, our family—me, David, and my two children, who now lovingly called him Dad—were strolling through the hospital gardens.

My two kids were running ahead, their laughter filling the air. As we passed a side gate, I saw him. A middle-aged man in shabby clothes stood across the street, his hair completely white, his face etched with hardship.

It was Mark, released early for good behavior. He had nothing—no family, no career, no home. He just stood there, watching us with an expression of profound regret.

David squeezed my hand. “Do you want to talk to him?”

I watched Mark for a long moment, then shook my head. The anger and hatred were long gone, replaced by a quiet pity. The past was the past. Raking it up would only disturb the beautiful peace we had worked so hard to build.

“No,” I said, turning to my family with a smile. “Let’s go home, the kids are hungry.”

I took David’s hand, and without looking back, we walked towards the warm, setting sun. I understood then that the best revenge is not to crush your enemies, but to build a life so full of happiness and light that their darkness can no longer touch you.

And I, Catherine Hayes, had done just that.