Chapter 1
My dad told me to play it safe before tying the knot.
I brushed him off, thinking he was just being too cynical.
Still, I secretly had my one-million-dollar engagement gift and my 3,000-square-foot luxury apartment registered as my premarital assets, without telling my husband.
After we got married, Damien was the perfect husband, always looking out for me. Everyone in the family kept saying I'd found true love.
But then, when his brother wanted to buy a house, Damien didn't even hesitate. He was ready to transfer my one million dollars to his brother.
He did it right in front of me, tapping the confirm button, but then an alert popped up on his phone.
[This account is registered as a premarital asset. Large transfers need authorization from both the owner and the notary.]
His smile froze on his face.
*****
The warm glow from the living room lights traced Damien's profile, making him look both gentle and striking.
He leaned in, totally focused on my phone, lost in whatever he was doing.
Our fingers were still intertwined, his fingertips warm and callused from years at the keyboard, gently rubbing the back of my hand.
The air was filled with the sweet scent of lilies and the cozy aroma of the mushroom soup I'd simmered myself.
Everything was so quiet, it was like we were frozen in a masterpiece called "Happiness."
"Connie, this is the account, right?" Damien asked, turning the phone screen toward me, his voice sounding relieved.
He said, "Caleb's been hounding me all day. The landlord gave him a final ultimatum. If he doesn't pay the down payment today, the place goes to someone else. Lucky we've got you, babe. You're a lifesaver for all of us."
I stared at the familiar bank app on the screen. The recipient was Caleb, and in the amount field, that glaring "1,000,000.00" was just sitting there, impossible to ignore.
It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart. It was not exactly painful, just tight and suffocating.
I kept my tone soft like always. "Damien, this is my own savings from before we got married."
"I know." He chuckled, his eyes full of that familiar fondness. "Your money is my money, babe. We're family. Why draw lines between us? Come on, just put your fingerprint here."
He hurried me along, taking my finger and trying to press it down on the home button.
At that very moment, my dad's face, weathered and worldly, suddenly flashed through my mind.
A month before the wedding, he'd called me into his study and handed me a thick envelope.
He said, "Connie, it's not that I don't trust Damien. I just don't trust human nature. This one million dollars and the apartment are what your mom left them to keep you safe. I want you to have something to fall back on.
"Go get it notarized. Think of it as a safety net for your marriage. If you never need it, that's perfect. But if you ever do, it might just save your skin."
Back then, I thought my dad was just making a big deal out of nothing. Damien and I were so deeply in love. He'd worked his way up from nothing, and everyone knew he was hardworking and trustworthy.
When it came to me, he couldn't have treated me better.
He picked me up and dropped me off every single day, rain or shine.
If I ever mentioned a craving, he would drive all over the city at midnight just to find it for me.
He kept track of my period better than I did, always making sure hot chocolate and heating pads were ready before I even needed them.
After a long day, he'd even squat down and use his programmer hands to gently rub my feet.
I really thought I'd married love itself. But deep down, my rational side made me listen to my dad. I got everything notarized behind Damien's back.
I used to feel guilty about keeping that secret, like I was tainting our perfect love.
But now, seeing Damien being so entitled, the guilt inside me was cooling off and evaporating fast.
"The password is my birthday. Go ahead and enter it," I said, pulling my hand back instead of letting him use my fingerprint. My tone was unreadable.
Damien didn't question it, a smile tugging at his lips as he quickly typed in the password.
He even held the phone up to me with a hint of pride, like he wanted us both to witness this "great moment" of contributing to the family together.
"All set! Once the money's in, I'll have Caleb take you out for a nice dinner!" he said, grinning.
He clicked the "Confirm Transfer" button with total confidence.
One second. Two seconds. The screen didn't jump to the success page as he expected.
An orange system alert popped up out of nowhere, slicing through the cozy atmosphere like a sharp knife.
[XX Bank. Dear customer, you are trying to make a large transfer. Because this account is registered as premarital property, any amount over 15,000 dollars requires both the account owner and the notary (Ms. Payne, ID 310…) to come to the bank in person with a valid ID to approve it. Any online transfer has been automatically blocked.]
Suddenly, the whole room felt frozen in time.