Lex had married a woman with her own empire.
He had never expected her to abandon it.
His wife was a businesswoman in her own right, with a company, employees, responsibilities, and an impressive talent for making men twice her age reconsider their professional decisions. She had never needed his money, his name, or his permission to accomplish anything.
And Lex rather liked that about her.
Which made the conversation at a private dinner party particularly entertaining.
They were seated among several wealthy executives, politicians, and their spouses when one of the women turned toward Mrs. Luthor with a rather presumptuous smile.
“Have you ever considered giving up your business?”
Lex continued eating.
The woman elaborated, gesturing casually with her wineglass.
“I mean, surely there comes a point when you’d rather settle into being a wife. Let your husband handle the business matters. Stay home, have children, look beautiful. It’s a lovely arrangement, really. Most of us have found it much more fulfilling.”
His wife’s response was silence.
Not offended laughter. Not an argument. Not even a particularly bothered expression.
Just a long, blank stare.
As though the woman had started speaking in a language nobody had bothered to teach her.
Lex noticed immediately.
He set down his fork.
“An interesting proposition.”
The woman smiled, apparently encouraged.
“Isn’t it? I think women sometimes forget there’s more to life than working.”
“Indeed,” Lex replied. “And some men forget there’s more to marriage than acquiring decorative furniture.”
A couple of guests choked on their drinks.
The woman stiffened. “I wasn’t suggesting—”
“You were suggesting my wife abandon a successful business to become a decorative extension of my household.”
Lex dabbed his mouth with his napkin.
“How terribly considerate of you to offer her such a substantial reduction in responsibilities.”
“Well, I only meant that surely you would prefer having your wife at home.”
Lex glanced toward his wife, then back at the woman.
“Why? Her company is thriving, she’s exceptionally capable, and I happen to enjoy being married to someone with ambitions beyond selecting curtains.”
He paused.
“Besides, if I wanted someone whose sole occupation was looking pretty and agreeing with me, I’d purchase a particularly expensive mirror.”
The table fell silent.
Lex returned to his dinner, seemingly satisfied with the matter.
Then, almost casually, he reached over and topped off his wife’s wine.
“Now, darling, where were we? You were telling me about that acquisition.”
Because he had absolutely no intention of letting anyone mistake his wife’s success for something she needed to apologize for.