He Got the Mistress. I Got the Empire.
After helping my husband build his business from the ground up, I settled into life as a full-time housewife.
When our daughter's tenth birthday approached, I planned to host a grand celebration for her. I booked a party that cost 2 thousand dollars per table.
But when I swiped my card at the hotel, the staff gave me a strange look.
"Mrs. Richmond, this card doesn't even have fifty dollars in it to charge."
Flushed with embarrassment, I went home to confront my husband. He wore an apologetic expression.
"Lately, the company's been competing for contracts. The new government official is insatiably greedy, and I've had to spend a lot under the table to smooth things over. Once the funds turn around, I'll make sure our daughter gets the grand birthday she deserves."
I gave him a gentle, understanding smile—but as soon as I turned away, I began tallying our assets.
Because that so-called "new government official" was none other than my father. And in his office, there hadn't been any bids or contracts at all.
Now I intended to find out exactly where my husband had spent all our money.