My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Fearing that Johanna might be bullied, Denise rushed in and grabbed Quincey's arm. Meanwhile, Quincey's assistant, worried
that Quincey might get hit, also stepped in to break up the fight.
The women were so engrossed in their scuffle on the floor that they didn't even hear the doorbell ring.
By the time Hugh and Quincey's agent got the apartment door code and hurriedly entered the unit with Timothy, they were met
with a scene of utter chaos.
Timothy strode over and pulled Johanna out of the crowd. “Jojo, are you okay?”
After being helped to her feet by her assistant, Quincey's eyes filled with tears the moment she saw Hugh. “Mr. Cabot,” she said
through sobs, “Ms. Joule stole my ring and won't admit it. She even slapped me. Look at my face.”
Hugh glanced at Timothy, not daring to utter a single word.
“Mr. Cabot, please speak up for me,” Quincey pleaded, her voice choked with tears. Her crying intensified as she wailed, “I'm the
one being hit and bullied. Are you just going to stand there and watch?”
“Shut up!” Timothy barked, his face stern with anger.
Startled, Quincey's shoulders shuddered. She had a vague feeling that she had seen Timothy somewhere before, but she
couldn't quite place him.
Still, she simply could not swallow her indignity. With tears-filled eyes and a sobbing tone, she protested, “I'm the one who got
hit; why should I keep quiet? All I said was that Ms. Joule is married but still messing around outside. I didn't make this up out of
thin air. I saw it on a webpage. If she's angry, she should complain to the website. Why would she hit me?”
“My wife had an affair with another man? Who is he? Why don't I know about it?” Timothy glared at Quincey and continued, “You
start gossiping at the slightest news. Slapping you was too lenient from her.”
“What?” Quincey momentarily forgot to cry. She glanced at Timothy again and quickly remembered who he was.

Timothy Jensen, the current chairman of Forlisle Group.
She knew that Timothy had married early, but his spouse was not a public figure. She never imagined that his wife would turn out
to be Johanna.
Now she understood why Hugh had been standing quietly aside since he came in.
After Timothy finished speaking, he ignored Quincey. He noticed that Johanna's cheek was scratched by a fingernail and felt a
pang of heartache. He promptly ordered Quincey's assistant to bring over a band-aid.
Quincey didn't dare to mutter a word and looked to Hugh for help.
Once Timothy had finished treating Johanna's wound, Hugh quietly asked Quincey to apologize to Johanna. After all, Quincey
was a profitable artist from their own company, and Hugh didn't want to see her career cut short.
With a trembling heart, Quincey stepped forward and apologized, “I'm sorry, Ms. Joule. It's all my fault. I hope you can forgive
me.”
“You insulted me, and I slapped you twice. We're even,” Johanna said indifferently. “But the loss of your two-million ring has
nothing to do with me or my assistant.”
“It's my fault. I've wronged you,” Quincey said softly, all traces of arrogance gone.
Timothy asked, “What's going on?”
Before Johanna could speak up, Denise had already explained the situation to Timothy, “This morning, we came to style Ms.
Hartwell. Later, she lost a valuable item and insisted that Johanna stole it. She even mocked Johanna for not being unable to
afford jewelry and being greedy. Johanna was so upset that she snapped back.”
Timothy looked at Quincey and said sneeringly, “Each piece of jewelry in my wife's drawers is worth a fortune. Your two-million
ring is worth nothing in comparison. Who do you think you are, accusing my wife like this?”

Quincey hung her head, not daring to utter a single word after being scolded by him.
At that point, Hugh stepped in to defend Quincey, “Mr. Jensen, it's my fault for not managing the artists well. I also owe an
apology to Mrs. Jensen.”
“We can't just let this go,” Timothy said, his face darkening. “Since she lost her ring, she either needs to find it or figure out who
stole it. I don't want her to go around telling people that my wife stole her ring if she can't find it.”
“All right then, let's call the police,” Hugh said with a forced smile. He urged Quincey to make the call.
Just as Quincey was about to call the police, her long-silent assistant suddenly piped up, “I remember now. It seems that
Quincey left that ring in the restroom cabinet.”
The assistant hurried off to the restroom, then returned holding a yellow diamond ring.
Johanna looked at the ring in her assistant's hand and suddenly laughed. “How strange. Ms. Hartwell remembered this ring
being in a jewelry box, yet you just found it in the restroom.”