Chapter 1 · I Gave, I Took

Chapter 1

I'd been married to Morris Barker, a scion of one of Ravenstone's most powerful families, for ten years.

To the outside world, we were the perfect couple.

He was always composed, dignified, and never stepped out of bounds.

But on Valentine's Day, I saw him send 143 dollars to the new girl on his team.

That same night, I made him send 143 to every employee in the company.

Then I took back everything I'd ever given him.

He went from a celebrated CEO to being left with nothing.

My man didn't have to be romantic, but he had to have boundaries.

If he couldn't control his heart, then I'd personally destroy every ounce of confidence he had in his little affairs.

*****

In the plush private airport lounge, I was dressed in a custom-made suit worth over 700 grand, a file pinched between my fingers.

I listened to my assistant go over the details of my upcoming trip abroad, my gaze drifting lazily over the gift box in front of me, worth tens of millions.

On the video call, Morris wore his usual charming smile, his voice gentle. "Helen, happy Valentine's Day. I know you've been busy with your trip, so I had this ruby set custom-made for you. It'll go perfectly with your dress."

The box opened, revealing pigeon-blood rubies that flashed sharply under the lights. They were worth a fortune, but so gaudy they were almost laughable.

After ten years of marriage, Morris's gifts were always classy, restrained, and he clearly put effort into them. But they always felt like they were missing a spark.

Honestly, it didn't bother me.

In families like ours, marriage was never about love. I never expected anything real from him—just wanted him to play his part and respect the boundaries.

As long as he stayed out of any messy headlines that could screw up my business, that was all I needed.

Morris nailed that perfectly.

For ten years, he'd kept his reputation spotless—never so much as a whisper about other women.

I had to give him props for that.

My assistants and Morris's team members were all looking at us with envy, whispering among themselves.

"Mr. Barker really spoils Ms. Spraggins," one of the assistants murmured.

"Those rubies must be worth hundreds of millions," another whispered.

"Ms. Spraggins is so lucky."

"Seriously, she's winning at both career and love."

"No one else in Ravenstone has it this good."

"For real! People always say there's no real love among the rich, but look at Mr. Barker and Ms. Spraggins; they're proof it exists!"

I smiled softly, my voice sweet. "Thanks, hubby. I'll get back to it now."

Then I told my assistant, "Just set it aside. Continue with the briefing."

As soon as I spoke, the chatter around us stopped. Morris's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly recovered. "Alright, Helen. Stay safe out there, and call me if you need anything."

I ignored him and turned back to my assistant, giving instructions for the next steps. As I casually scrolled through my phone, a bank notification popped up.

[Your card ending in 8888 has just sent 143 to Lisa Windrow.]

I paused, my brow arching as curiosity flickered through me.

This was the secondary card I'd given Morris.

He'd never used it before, except for those holiday gifts he was obligated to send me.

Why would he suddenly send 143 to some random woman?

And on Valentine's Day, no less.

Lisa Windrow? Who is she?

She didn't seem to be his first love, but she sure had the guts to spend my family's money.

He'd never sent me 143 before.

He'd always said numbers didn't mean anything.

I opened my mobile banking app and pulled up all the transactions on the secondary card. Nothing new there.

Then I checked Morris's transaction history. A quick swipe, and a flood of transfer records filled the screen.

Every single one was for 143, and every single one was sent to Lisa Windrow. There were 98 of them.

With the one from just now, that made 99 transfers of 143.

99 times 143—exactly 14,157.

The envy that had been buzzing around me just moments ago now sounded downright ironic.

Interesting. Why didn't Morris just send it all at once?

Right then, the company's slogan—"If you love her, show it with love"—seemed to be mocking me.

The marriage I thought was respectable, the "unoriginality" I never bothered to care about, was actually him sending flirty payments to another woman again and again behind my back.

I sent the screenshot to Morris, the transfer records practically burning a hole in my screen.

He shot back almost instantly: [Oops, sent it from the secondary card by mistake.

[You don't mind, do you, Helen?]

[I don't mind, but why that number? Care to explain?] I asked calmly, actually a little entertained by this rare bit of unexpected drama.

[Lisa's family is having a rough patch, so I sent her some money to lend a hand.]

"Lend a hand?" I scoffed.

[Lend a hand? By sending 143? And doing it 99 times? Morris, do you take me for a fool?]

I mimicked the tone of a petty, jealous girl, just to see how he'd try to wriggle out of this.

[Helen, if that's what you want to believe, I can't stop you.]

I felt my temper snap.

"Let finance know: Mr. Barker says it's Valentine's Day, so every employee gets 143—out of his own pocket," I said, legs crossed, issuing the order.

Since you love sending 143 so much, I'll make sure you send it to everyone.

Chapter 1

I'd been married to Morris Barker, a scion of one of Ravenstone's most powerful families, for ten years.

To the outside world, we were the perfect couple.

He was always composed, dignified, and never stepped out of bounds.

But on Valentine's Day, I saw him send 143 dollars to the new girl on his team.

That same night, I made him send 143 to every employee in the company.

Then I took back everything I'd ever given him.

He went from a celebrated CEO to being left with nothing.

My man didn't have to be romantic, but he had to have boundaries.

If he couldn't control his heart, then I'd personally destroy every ounce of confidence he had in his little affairs.

*****

In the plush private airport lounge, I was dressed in a custom-made suit worth over 700 grand, a file pinched between my fingers.

I listened to my assistant go over the details of my upcoming trip abroad, my gaze drifting lazily over the gift box in front of me, worth tens of millions.

The box opened, revealing pigeon-blood rubies that flashed sharply under the lights. They were worth a fortune, but so gaudy they were almost laughable.

After ten years of marriage, Morris's gifts were always classy, restrained, and he clearly put effort into them. But they always felt like they were missing a spark.

Honestly, it didn't bother me.

In families like ours, marriage was never about love. I never expected anything real from him—just wanted him to play his part and respect the boundaries.

As long as he stayed out of any messy headlines that could screw up my business, that was all I needed.

Morris nailed that perfectly.

For ten years, he'd kept his reputation spotless—never so much as a whisper about other women.

I had to give him props for that.

My assistants and Morris's team members were all looking at us with envy, whispering among themselves.

"Mr. Barker really spoils Ms. Spraggins," one of the assistants murmured.

"Those rubies must be worth hundreds of millions," another whispered.

"Ms. Spraggins is so lucky."

"Seriously, she's winning at both career and love."

"No one else in Ravenstone has it this good."

"For real! People always say there's no real love among the rich, but look at Mr. Barker and Ms. Spraggins; they're proof it exists!"

I smiled softly, my voice sweet. "Thanks, hubby. I'll get back to it now."

Then I told my assistant, "Just set it aside. Continue with the briefing."

As soon as I spoke, the chatter around us stopped. Morris's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly recovered. "Alright, Helen. Stay safe out there, and call me if you need anything."

I ignored him and turned back to my assistant, giving instructions for the next steps. As I casually scrolled through my phone, a bank notification popped up.

[Your card ending in 8888 has just sent 143 to Lisa Windrow.]

I paused, my brow arching as curiosity flickered through me.

This was the secondary card I'd given Morris.

He'd never used it before, except for those holiday gifts he was obligated to send me.

Why would he suddenly send 143 to some random woman?

And on Valentine's Day, no less.

Lisa Windrow? Who is she?

She didn't seem to be his first love, but she sure had the guts to spend my family's money.

He'd never sent me 143 before.

He'd always said numbers didn't mean anything.

I opened my mobile banking app and pulled up all the transactions on the secondary card. Nothing new there.

Then I checked Morris's transaction history. A quick swipe, and a flood of transfer records filled the screen.

Every single one was for 143, and every single one was sent to Lisa Windrow. There were 98 of them.

With the one from just now, that made 99 transfers of 143.

99 times 143—exactly 14,157.

The envy that had been buzzing around me just moments ago now sounded downright ironic.

Interesting. Why didn't Morris just send it all at once?

Right then, the company's slogan—"If you love her, show it with love"—seemed to be mocking me.

The marriage I thought was respectable, the "unoriginality" I never bothered to care about, was actually him sending flirty payments to another woman again and again behind my back.

I sent the screenshot to Morris, the transfer records practically burning a hole in my screen.

He shot back almost instantly: [Oops, sent it from the secondary card by mistake.

[You don't mind, do you, Helen?]

[I don't mind, but why that number? Care to explain?] I asked calmly, actually a little entertained by this rare bit of unexpected drama.

[Lisa's family is having a rough patch, so I sent her some money to lend a hand.]

"Lend a hand?" I scoffed.

[Lend a hand? By sending 143? And doing it 99 times? Morris, do you take me for a fool?]

I mimicked the tone of a petty, jealous girl, just to see how he'd try to wriggle out of this.

[Helen, if that's what you want to believe, I can't stop you.]

I felt my temper snap.

"Let finance know: Mr. Barker says it's Valentine's Day, so every employee gets 143—out of his own pocket," I said, legs crossed, issuing the order.

Since you love sending 143 so much, I'll make sure you send it to everyone.