No Longer the Second Choice

It has been said that my husband Zane York has spoiled his new female bodyguard, Nora, dramatically. She went everywhere with him, even standing behind him during the York Clan's general meetings. Today, we were discussing dock cooperation with Simon from the Camorra Clan of Country Y. The meeting room was specially stocked with cigars. Nora suddenly grabbed Zane's arm tightly, her voice trembling, "Mr. York, I'm afraid of fire." Before we could react, she reached out and swept the cigar box off the table; the lighter rolled to the floor, and a small flame flickered up. Simon's face immediately darkened. He slammed the table and shouted, "Is your York Clan deliberately humiliating me?" I quickly stepped forward and held Simon's hand down. "Sorry, it's a misunderstanding, just an accident." Simon was relentless, insisting on pulling out his investment. For the bigger picture, I had to grit my teeth and give up five points of profit — that was 1.5 billion dollars. I thought Zane would say something fair, but he just stood with Nora behind him and coldly said to me, "Wanda, don't scare her." After the meeting, Zane left straight away with Nora, without saying a single word to me. I sat alone in the empty conference room, clutching the amended contract. He used to say I was his most capable assistant, the only person he trusted. But now, just because Nora said she was "afraid of fire," he made me give up 1.5 billion dollars and publicly favored her. I always thought Zane treated Nora well because she saved his life three years ago—that it was out of gratitude. But today, for the first time, I began to suspect that this "gratitude" had long since soured.