Chapter 7 · Left My Billionaire Husband for Rosenheim

I looked at Edward's message and replied with just two words.

[Still there.]

The phone rang the very next second.

Edward asked urgently, "What's the market value of that house now?"

"What's it to you?" I retorted.

"We're married, so your house is part of our family assets. Mom's investment platform is just having a temporary cash crunch. As long as we cover the margin, we'll get the money back soon."

I just had to laugh.

"How much do you need?"

"400,000 dollars."

"So you want me to sell the house I owned before we got married just to bail your mom out?"

"Bail my mom out? The money she invested was all from my salary anyway. Once the funds come back, we all benefit."

"So whose account does the profit actually go into?"

Edward went quiet for a moment.

He dodged the question and kept pushing. "Emily, this isn't the time to be stubborn. That little place is just sitting there empty. Why not call a realtor and get it sold? I checked, the market's pretty hot—you could get 500,000 dollars for it, easy."

He'd even checked the market price for me.

I walked over to the window, gazing down at the street, all lit up and buzzing below.

That house was something my parents left me.

After they passed away, I just couldn't bring myself to let it go. When we got married, Edward said the Harrington Family already had a place, so I should just keep the house I owned before we got married and rent it out. But most of the rent ended up covering expenses for this so-called family.

Now that Margaret got scammed out of 500,000 dollars, his first instinct wasn't to call the cops—it was to sell my house.

"Isn't your mom planning to sell the house you're living in now?"

"No way! If we sell the house, where are we supposed to live?"

"We could just rent."

"I'm a regional director. If word gets out that I'm living in a rental with my mom, how embarrassing would that be?"

"So it's not embarrassing for me to sell the house my parents left me?"

Edward's patience finally snapped.

"Emily, how can you be so selfish? The family's falling apart, you're off overseas and won't even come back, and you can't bring yourself to let go of a single house. After three years together, did you ever see me as your husband?"

"Did you ever think of me as your wife when you handed every paycheck straight to your mom?"

Edward's voice shot up, furious.

"That's not the same thing!"

"To me, it's the same thing."

I hung up and sent the call recording to James.

There was another knock at the door.

It was Carl, holding a freshly printed server access log.

"The tech team tracked down the remote admin account for the hidden backdoor. It was accessed seventeen times in the past six months. The last login? Just twenty minutes before we kicked off the demo."

I took the log.

The login address came from the home country, but the email tied to the account was encrypted through layers and layers.

Carl pointed at a string of numbers at the bottom.

"This number lines up with the internal code on the supplier contract. The signatory isn't the old project lead—it's the deputy director from HQ's procurement center."

"Does Richard know about this?" I asked.

"He's already been informed. HQ wants us to seal all the servers tonight and suspend the domestic team's remote access."

Just then, a new email popped up in my work inbox.

It was from the HQ audit team.

They wanted me to join a confidential video conference the next morning and provide a statement detailing my connection to Edward and that data service company.

Just as I replied to confirm, Olivia sent me a message.

[Olivia just listed the house for sale, priced 20% below market value. Someone already paid a deposit today.]

Right after that, James sent over a document.

It was a power of attorney for selling the house.

Margaret was the seller, and Edward was acting as her proxy.

And the buyer's representative? It was the legal representative of that data service company.

I laid the two documents side by side on the table.

On one side was the hidden interface in the Rosenheim Initiative, and on the other was the house the Harrington Family was rushing to sell at a low price.

Two seemingly unrelated threads had somehow converged on the same person.

At 1 AM, Edward messaged me again.

[I've already sorted out the house. The realtor's coming by tomorrow with buyers, so just mail me the keys.]

Before I could reply, the property manager from my pre-marital apartment suddenly called.

"Ms. Carter, someone showed up with your husband's ID, saying the house is joint property and wanted to change the locks. We've held him off for now, but he's got a locksmith with him."

I gripped my phone tightly.

I could hear Edward's voice clearly in the background.

"She's overseas. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility. Just open the door!"

I told the property manager to call the police, and at the same time, I used the smart lock app to freeze all temporary access.

Ten minutes later, Edward called me.

"You really had the property manager call the cops on me?" Edward demanded.

"You tried to break in without the owner's permission. I'm just defending what's mine," I replied.

"I'm your husband! How can you say I'm trespassing in your own house?"

"Your name isn't on the deed."

"Are you really going to go this far?"

Chapter 7

I looked at Edward's message and replied with just two words.

[Still there.]

The phone rang the very next second.

Edward asked urgently, "What's the market value of that house now?"

"What's it to you?" I retorted.

"We're married, so your house is part of our family assets. Mom's investment platform is just having a temporary cash crunch. As long as we cover the margin, we'll get the money back soon."

I just had to laugh.

"How much do you need?"

"400,000 dollars."

"So you want me to sell the house I owned before we got married just to bail your mom out?"

"Bail my mom out? The money she invested was all from my salary anyway. Once the funds come back, we all benefit."

"So whose account does the profit actually go into?"

Edward went quiet for a moment.

He'd even checked the market price for me.

I walked over to the window, gazing down at the street, all lit up and buzzing below.

That house was something my parents left me.

Now that Margaret got scammed out of 500,000 dollars, his first instinct wasn't to call the cops—it was to sell my house.

"Isn't your mom planning to sell the house you're living in now?"

"No way! If we sell the house, where are we supposed to live?"

"We could just rent."

"I'm a regional director. If word gets out that I'm living in a rental with my mom, how embarrassing would that be?"

"So it's not embarrassing for me to sell the house my parents left me?"

Edward's patience finally snapped.

"Did you ever think of me as your wife when you handed every paycheck straight to your mom?"

Edward's voice shot up, furious.

"That's not the same thing!"

"To me, it's the same thing."

I hung up and sent the call recording to James.

There was another knock at the door.

It was Carl, holding a freshly printed server access log.

I took the log.

The login address came from the home country, but the email tied to the account was encrypted through layers and layers.

Carl pointed at a string of numbers at the bottom.

"This number lines up with the internal code on the supplier contract. The signatory isn't the old project lead—it's the deputy director from HQ's procurement center."

"Does Richard know about this?" I asked.

"He's already been informed. HQ wants us to seal all the servers tonight and suspend the domestic team's remote access."

Just then, a new email popped up in my work inbox.

It was from the HQ audit team.

They wanted me to join a confidential video conference the next morning and provide a statement detailing my connection to Edward and that data service company.

Just as I replied to confirm, Olivia sent me a message.

[Olivia just listed the house for sale, priced 20% below market value. Someone already paid a deposit today.]

Right after that, James sent over a document.

It was a power of attorney for selling the house.

Margaret was the seller, and Edward was acting as her proxy.

And the buyer's representative? It was the legal representative of that data service company.

I laid the two documents side by side on the table.

On one side was the hidden interface in the Rosenheim Initiative, and on the other was the house the Harrington Family was rushing to sell at a low price.

Two seemingly unrelated threads had somehow converged on the same person.

At 1 AM, Edward messaged me again.

[I've already sorted out the house. The realtor's coming by tomorrow with buyers, so just mail me the keys.]

Before I could reply, the property manager from my pre-marital apartment suddenly called.

"Ms. Carter, someone showed up with your husband's ID, saying the house is joint property and wanted to change the locks. We've held him off for now, but he's got a locksmith with him."

I gripped my phone tightly.

I could hear Edward's voice clearly in the background.

"She's overseas. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility. Just open the door!"

I told the property manager to call the police, and at the same time, I used the smart lock app to freeze all temporary access.

Ten minutes later, Edward called me.

"You really had the property manager call the cops on me?" Edward demanded.

"You tried to break in without the owner's permission. I'm just defending what's mine," I replied.

"I'm your husband! How can you say I'm trespassing in your own house?"

"Your name isn't on the deed."

"Are you really going to go this far?"