Morning at the headquarters of PT Hartono Jaya Utama arrived bearing a storm of absolute ruin for Rehan. The managing director's office—which once exuded grandiosity and authority—now felt like a suffocating interrogation room. The air inside was stifling, clashing with the overwhelming panic creeping into Rehan's chest ever since he set foot on the building's floor.

The door to his office shoved open roughly without greeting. Two senior shareholders and the head of the marketing division strode inside, their faces flushed red with uncontained rage.

"Mr. Rehan! What is the meaning of all this?!" one of the senior shareholders snapped, tossing a stack of contract cancellation files onto Rehan's desk. "A major client from Singapore has officially severed ties and pulled all of their investments today! They said our expansion project stalled because there was no clarity regarding operational fund disbursements!"

Rehan jolted out of his office chair, his face turning chalk-white. He tried to suppress his panic with a stiff smile. "P-please calm down, Mr. Hendra. This is merely a temporary banking technical glitch. Our finance team is sorting it out—"

"What technical glitch?!" interrupted the head of the marketing division with a frustrated shout. "It's not just investors fleeing; raw material suppliers are also refusing to ship goods because last month's invoices remain unpaid! Our company is on the brink of bankruptcy, Mr. Rehan! If fresh funds aren't released this week, all of us will be dragged into bankruptcy court!"

Rehan fell silent and rigid, his tongue suddenly frozen. He couldn't tell them the truth—that the fund freeze wasn't a bank error, but the work of his own wife, Aileen, who had legally revoked all of his operational authorities through the courts.

"Get out! Leave me alone!" Rehan roared in a hoarse voice, venting his utter frustration upon his subordinates, who scoffed in disgust and slammed the door behind them.

The moment the room fell quiet once more, Rehan slumped heavily back into his chair, breathing erratically. Cold sweat streamed down his shirt. With violently trembling hands, his fingers grabbed his phone, desperately searching for a final lifeline. He needed cash as fast as possible, by any means necessary.

Rehan quickly dialed an old acquaintance operating in the high-interest underground loan sector.

“Hello, Boss Rehan? How much bridging finance are you looking to borrow?” a heavy voice greeted him from the other end.

"I need ten billion rupiah in cash today!" Rehan blurted out hurriedly. "I'll use my personal property assets and luxury house under my name as collateral!"

The voice on the other end let out a mocking laugh before replying, “Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Rehan. Our legal team already checked the title status of your property and house at the Land Agency this morning. It turns out they all fall under an absolute prenuptial protection clause held solely by your wife, Aileen Hartono. Not a single asset can be collateralized without her written signature. Try somewhere else.”

Click... click... click.

The call disconnected abruptly.

Rehan slammed his expensive phone onto the floor, the screen shattering into countless pieces. He gripped his own hair hysterically, emitting a choked, stifled roar within his office, which now felt like a living hell.

"Damn it! Damn you, Aileen! How could you do this to destroy me?!" Rehan screamed like a madman, kicking his desk over until it flipped. The facade of a successful businessman he had spent years building shattered instantly, exposing his true self: a pathetic loser possessing nothing without his wife's family fortune.

That evening, the luxurious Hartono mansion was blanketed in an oppressive silence.

Rehan drove home like a maniac. He slammed the front door of the house with full force, the echoing bang reverberating throughout the entire estate. His appearance was disheveled, his eyes blazing red from rage and the alcohol he had guzzled down along the road.

"Aileen! Get out here, Aileen!" Rehan screamed, echoing through the living room, his voice raspy and laced with threat.

Aileen, sitting leisurely on the second-floor family room sofa reading a book accompanied by a cup of warm tea, remained completely unfazed. She closed her book slowly, stood up with effortless grace, and stepped out to confront the source of the commotion.

Rehan stormed up the stairs with heavy, frantic steps. The moment he spotted Aileen standing in the threshold of the master bedroom clad in a wine-red silk nightgown, he bolted straight toward her.

"There you are!" Rehan snarled, roughly grabbing Aileen by the wrists. "Answer me! What have you done to my company?! Why did you freeze all my access and drive the investors away?"

Aileen winced slightly from Rehan's rough grip, yet her gaze betrayed not a single flicker of fear. Instead, she fixed Rehan with a piercing, ice-cold smirk.

"Let go of my hands, Rehan. Do not soil yourself and those filthy hands upon me," Aileen spoke in a cold, commanding tone that momentarily stunned Rehan through the sheer intensity of his wife's glare.

Rehan forcefully shoved Aileen's hand away, then dragged his wife inside the master bedroom. Once inside, Rehan completely lost his sanity. He swept his arm across the vanity, smashing crystal vases and perfume bottles until they shattered across the bedroom floor.

Crash! Smash!

Shards of glass scattered everywhere. Rehan whipped his head toward Aileen with ragged breathing, his face hardening into a terrifying verbal threat.

"Listen to me, Aileen!" Rehan barked, pointing a finger directly in his wife's face. "If you think you can play games with me and ruin my career, you are dead wrong! Lift all those account freezes right now, or I swear... I will make your life a living hell in this house! I can wipe you out anytime if you keep standing in my way!"

The threat was delivered with profound, consuming hatred. In the past, a threat like that would have driven Aileen to tears of terror, shaking and begging for mercy at her husband's feet.

Yet, the woman standing before him now was vastly different.

Aileen didn't back down an inch. Instead, she stepped slowly forward, walking across the scattered glass shards on the floor without a shred of hesitation. She lifted her chin, locking eyes straight into Rehan's pupils with a razor-sharp, mocking smile.

"Wipe me out?" Aileen whispered in an exceptionally calm tone laced with lethal venom. "Rehan... the threats of a nearly bankrupt loser mean absolutely nothing to me."

Rehan froze rigidly, his eyes widening in utter shock at those words.

"Are you furious because my company is ruined? Are you stressed because you can no longer splurge on funding your mistress, Clara?" Aileen continued, her crooked smile stretching wider. "Wake up, Rehan. In this house, before the law, and before my late father's company... you are nobody anymore. You're merely a gutter rat freeloading off someone else's palace."

"Enough! Shut your mouth, Aileen!" Rehan screamed hysterically, raising a hand as though to strike his wife's face.

However, before Rehan's hand could move, Aileen's icy, bone-chilling stare abruptly sapped the man's courage away. Rehan froze, his hand trembling in mid-air, before slowly taking a step back as shame and dread collided violently in his chest.

Aileen stood tall, looking down with utter disdain at her husband, who now appeared like a helpless beggar inside his own home.

"The game has only just entered its most fascinating phase, Rehan," Aileen whispered softly, before turning on her heel and leaving her husband slumped amidst the shattered glass, drowning in absolute, inescapable despair.