Chapter 3

That night, I didn't sleep a wink.

Michael, probably thinking he had everything under control, fell asleep almost instantly. His breathing was steady, and he even let out a soft snore.

I lay there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. The man lying next to me felt like a complete stranger. He was like someone I barely recognized and someone I was starting to fear.

We'd been together since college. Seven years of dating and two years of marriage.

I thought I'd married for love. After all, he would do anything for me when we were boyfriend and girlfriend.

But now, I realized that maybe from the very beginning, everything I saw was just a carefully crafted illusion.

He came from an ordinary background, and it was only through his own hard work and my unwavering support that he managed to climb his way up to become a high-ranking executive at a financial company.

All the resources my family had, all the connections I brought, and all the love and effort I gave him were just a means to get what he wanted.

Now he had made it. He earned two million a year, living the high life, and yet he was scheming to take the last of what my parents left me.

I couldn't just let this slide.

As dawn crept in, I'd already made up my mind.

I slipped out of bed, walked over to Michael's side, and gently nudged him awake.

He blinked, still half-asleep, struggling to focus.

Lowering my head, I let my voice tremble with a hint of tears and grievance. "Michael, I'm sorry. I was way too impulsive yesterday. Please, don't be mad at me, okay?"

I squeezed out a few tears, letting them fall onto his arm.

In the darkness, I couldn't see Michael's expression, but I could feel his body relax beside me.

He pulled me into his arms, his voice suddenly gentle. "Silly, how could I ever really be mad at you? I know you'll figure it out. Now sleep. Tomorrow, we'll go apologize to my mom, and this whole thing will be behind us."

He was clearly pleased with my "submission," patting my back before drifting off into a deep sleep again.

I lay stiff in his embrace, my body cold and numb, shivers running through me.

He drifted back to sleep. Then, some time later, he awoke, showered, and got ready for work. I knew opportunity knocked.

The sound of water rushing in the bathroom was like a battle anthem, urging me to move.

I slipped into the study and powered up his personal laptop.

I remembered his password. It was my birth date.

How ironic.

The desktop was spotless, every folder neatly arranged. I scrolled through his files as quickly as I could.

It didn't take long before a folder named "Family Plan" caught my eye, for it was password-protected. My gut screamed that something was off about this.

I took a deep breath and started guessing passwords. I tried our anniversary date, his birth date, and Linda's birth date. None of them worked.

My heart was racing, and the sound of water from the bathroom felt like it could stop any second.

I forced myself to stay calm, racking my brain for another password.

Then it hit me. I'd once seen him punch in his bank card PIN. It was a string of numbers.

I typed in that string of numbers, and the folder unlocked.

For a split second, I forgot to breathe.

Inside were several documents and a spreadsheet.

I opened the first document. It was a backup of Michael's chat history with Linda.

The chat history stretched all the way from before we even started talking about marriage, right up to yesterday.

I skimmed through line after line. Every single message felt like a knife, slicing straight through my heart.

Linda: [Nevaeh Shaw has a pretty good family background. Her parents are gone, so she doesn't have anyone to back her up. It'll be easy for you to control her.]

Linda: [Go ahead and marry her. Just don't spend any money on her. If she asks for anything, gaslight her. Call her a gold digger. Tell her real love doesn't cost a thing.]

Linda: [She owned an apartment now, right? Make her put your name on the title after the wedding. Say it's to make her feel safe. That's your security.]

Linda: [Didn't you say she wants a bigger house? This is your shot. Let her pay for everything. Put the deed under my name. That way, the house is mine.]

Linda: [No matter what happens between you two later, she can't touch it. I'm doing this for you. I'm your safety net.]

Linda: [If she says no, pick a fight. Tell her she's selfish. Tell her she doesn't treat me like family. Women feel guilty easily. Push her a few times, and she'll give in. Trust me.]

Every sentence dripped with calculated manipulation and cold-blooded intent.

My oh-so-gentle husband, the one who always played Mr. Perfect for me, was nothing but an obedient puppet in his mother's chat window. Every scheme to screw me over got a quick, "Sure, Mom." "Got it, Mom."

My hands started shaking uncontrollably.

I clicked open the spreadsheet titled "Asset Optimization."

The spreadsheet was neatly divided into two columns.

On the left, it said "Nevaeh Shaw's Personal Assets" with a detailed breakdown. It listed one downtown apartment bought before marriage worth about 1.5 million, 2.9 million in personal savings, and around 0.4 million in various funds and stocks.

The numbers were so exact that it sent a chill straight through me.

How the hell did he manage to dig up every detail about my finances?

The right column was titled "Operation Plan and Progress."

The first entry said, "Purchase villa (2.9 million), ownership to Linda." Right next to it in bold letters were the words "In progress."

The second entry said, "Claim that our living expenses are out of control and pressure Nevaeh to sell her apartment from before the marriage. Then funnel the money into a joint account with Michael in charge of the finances."

I couldn't bring myself to read any further.

But what really made my whole body go numb, like I'd been dunked in ice water, was the note at the very bottom of the spreadsheet.

In bold red letters, it said, "Once Nevaeh gets pregnant, pretend it's for the kid's future and make her sign an agreement to transfer part of her pre-marital property and funds to the child's name with Michael in charge as trustee."