1 At Victoria’s promotion banquet, in front of a room of corporate elites, she raised the limit on my linked credit card from $3,000 to $5,000. “Consider the extra two grand your pocket money for staying home with our kid,” she said, her voice full of CEO condescension. I declined, saying I had my own money, but her face darkened instantly. “Don’t I work hard for you and our daughter? Spend it. Max it out—I’ll make more,” she snapped. Her sycophants chimed in, praising her as a “true alpha” and joking about marrying her to be a kept man. That phrase stung, but seeing her excited face, I stayed silent. Days later, I accidentally charged $30 to the card. She dragged me into her company, shoved me in front of her staff, and shouted, “I gave you $5,000 and you blew it in a day?” “Get on your knees, kiss the floor five times, and swear you’ll never waste my money again—or I’ll divorce you.” Amid the crowd’s contempt, I tore off my jacket. “Fine. Let’s divorce. I’ll take full custody of our daughter.” Victoria laughed mockingly. “Everything on you is bought with my money. You’re broke—you can’t fight me for custody.” I met her eyes with a cold sneer. She was wrong. I didn’t have $200. I had $200 million. That morning, I had been slow-cooking a beef stew at home when Victoria violently yanked me out of the kitchen and dragged me to her office. Without warning, she kicked me squarely in the kneecap. Caught off guard, I crashed down onto one knee. Her perfectly manicured acrylic nails dug viciously into my forehead, jabbing me with every word. "Look at this materialistic, parasitic excuse for a man. I just opened that five-grand line of credit yesterday, and it's already drained." "My parents were right about you. You are a gold digger. You only married me for my bank account." A dark wave of anger churned in my gut. But remembering that she was the mother of my little girl, I swallowed the fire burning in my throat. "What are you talking about, Victoria? I only spent thirty bucks today, and even that was an accident." I patted my aching knee and tried to stand up. Suddenly, a heavy blow slammed into the back of my leg. A sickening crunch echoed through the room. My knee buckled involuntarily as blinding, agonizing pain crushed the air out of my lungs. I looked up. It was Blake, Victoria’s male secretary. He had sneaked up behind me and smashed a heavy wooden broom handle directly into my joint. He stood over me, puffing out his chest with sheer arrogance. "Did the boss give you permission to stand up? You don't move until she says so." "A freeloader like you belongs on his knees. You're starting to forget your place in the food chain." The dull, throbbing agony radiating from my shattered knee left me drenched in a cold sweat. But I was not a punching bag. "Who the hell do you think you are, barking at me?" I spat out. "What happens between my wife and me is none of your damn business." The moment the words left my mouth, a brutal slap tore across my right cheek. The skin felt like it was ripping apart. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to my employee like that?" Victoria screamed. "Blake is a hundred times the man you are. At least every dollar he spends is earned through his own hard work." "If you want to live off my dime, you better show some gratitude. You think a kept man gets to eat his meals standing up?" "If you don't kiss the floor five times right now and say 'I am sorry my queen' five hundred times, you are not walking out of here." The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth. I pressed my tongue hard against my loose back teeth, swallowing the hot liquid pooling in my throat. "I told you, I didn't spend that five grand. I only used thirty dollars." Her fury exploded. She grabbed me by the collar, shaking me violently. "The bank sent the notification directly to my phone. The limit is maxed out. If it wasn't you, who was it?" "So now you're not just a leech, you're a liar too?" "My mother and sister were absolutely right. Poverty breeds deceit. You are nothing but a con artist trying to drain my accounts." A suffocating wave of humiliation washed over me. I stiffened my neck, refusing to bow my head to her madness. "I said I didn't spend it. And frankly, I have my own money. Victoria, the truth is, while I've been at home..." A chorus of roaring laughter erupted from the crowd, violently cutting off my confession. "He says he has his own money. What kind of cash does a house-husband who never sees the sun actually make?" "Did you hoard some loose quarters from the grocery change? If Victoria wasn't out here crushing it in the corporate world, you'd be starving on the streets." "Look at that grease stain on his shirt. I don't know what the boss ever saw in him. Just looking at him makes me want to throw up." "She just liked his face. He looks like a gentleman, but underneath, he's just pure trash." Victoria frowned, listening to the mocking whispers. Her face twisted into a mask of total disgust. "Are you done throwing this tantrum? Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough? Since you refuse to admit it, I will show you exactly what you did." She threw her phone onto the marble floor. "Look at it yourself. Look at the itemized bill." A coworker standing nearby eagerly snatched up the phone and gasped. "Oh my god. Three hotel room bookings in a single day. Five boxes of premium condoms. And three grand dropped on luxury lingerie." "Just how thirsty are you? Hooking up three times a day?" "What a degenerate. If Victoria divorces him, I'd gladly take his place. I eat less and spend less." Victoria ignored the chatter, her eyes locked onto mine like twin glaciers. "You are cheating on me behind my back, and I am only asking you to kneel and apologize. I'd say I am being incredibly generous." "If you keep acting up, we are done." There was no point in arguing anymore. I was completely utterly baffled by that bank statement. Trembling from the agonizing pain in my knee, I forced myself up. I intended to wait until she came home to properly explain things. But the second I got my footing, Blake lunged. He grabbed the back of my neck and slammed my face brutally into the freezing tile floor. "Where do you think you're going? You piss off our boss and think you can just walk away? Fine, you don't want to kiss the floor. Crawl between her legs." He said he wanted me to crawl under Victoria's legs, but Blake deliberately spread his own legs wide, standing right in front of my face. I would rather die than be humiliated like this. Ignoring the screaming pain radiating through my entire body, I thrashed wildly, managing to break his grip. Before anyone could react, I threw a desperate, bone-crushing punch straight into Blake's jaw. "Back the hell off. My family's business is not for you to decide." Blake crashed to the floor, five red finger marks instantly swelling on his cheek. Victoria shrieked. She threw herself onto the floor beside him, her hands gently and tenderly tracing the red marks on his face. The absolute heartbreak and pity overflowing in her eyes felt like a barrage of silver needles piercing my flesh. I knew that look. I had seen that exact look before. Years ago, when I accidentally burned my hand cooking her dinner, she had wrapped me in that exact same gaze. She had blamed herself, crying and promising, "I will work so hard. I'll make enough money to hire a private chef so you never have to burn yourself again." But I hadn't seen that desperate, loving look directed at me in years. Lately, even when she came home to a hot meal, her face was twisted in disgust. "Chicken stew again? It smells disgusting." "Why can't you do anything right? You are completely useless." My heart violently twisted in my chest. My breathing turned shallow and ragged. Because in that moment, I knew the truth. My wife had already given her heart to someone else. 2 An overwhelming tide of grief threatened to drown me completely. I wandered home like a ghost. My parents had just arrived to drop off Lily. Seeing my bruised and battered state, the color completely drained from their faces. "Jason, what happened to you? Please don't scare us like this." I didn't want the two old folks to worry, so I brushed it off, muttering something about feeling a little sick. My mother’s heart ached for me. She silently started gathering up the massive pile of dirty laundry in the corner, stuffing it into a large canvas bag. "Take a break from the chores for a few days. I'll take these home and wash them for you. If something is wrong, you have to tell your mother, okay?" The moment those words left her lips, the front door screeched open. Victoria marched in, trailing a crew of internet vloggers holding massive cameras. They walked right into the living room and immediately spotted my mother holding the stuffed laundry bag. Victoria's expression instantly turned into a venomous snarl. "No wonder you burn through money so fast. You've been secretly funneling it to your pathetic parents." "What did you two old thieves steal from my house this time? Trying to pawn off my things to fund your deadbeat younger son?" After spitting that poison, she turned gracefully toward the cameras, wearing a polite, elegant smile. "I originally wanted to give you guys a house tour, but it seems you've walked into a bit of a circus." "You guessed right. My husband sits at home eating my food, spending my money, and secretly steals my belongings to subsidize his loser brother." "To be completely honest, my husband can blow through five grand in a single day. I might make a decent living, but I can't sustain a parasite like this." Hearing those venomous words, my mother's face went completely white. Trembling, she reached out and gently tugged at Victoria's sleeve. "Victoria, please, listen to me. These aren't..." Victoria viciously swatted my mother's hand away, screaming right in her face. "Aren't what? Aren't things you stole from me?" "Spill it. How much cash did he secretly hand over to you this time? Is it hidden in here?" Right in front of the flashing cameras, Victoria lunged forward and actually began clawing at my mother's blouse. It was the dead of summer. My mother was wearing a simple, conservative floral button-down. With one violent yank, Victoria tore the fabric open, exposing my mother's camisole and half her shoulder. My deeply traditional mother froze, tears instantly welling up in her red eyes. But Victoria was relentless. "Did you stuff it in your bra? Or is it in your socks?" "The money I bleed for is not going to fund that useless brother-in-law of mine." My mother stumbled backward under the assault, desperately trying to defend herself. "My younger son got a city hall job. He is not a loser." "I swear to God we have never taken a single penny from you. We have our own retirement money." Victoria let out a shrieking, demonic laugh. "What money? How much corn can you grow on your tiny plot of land? How much does that sell for?" "So what if he works for the city? He makes pennies. He can't even afford a wife." "Take off your pants. Let me see if you hid my cash in your underwear." Watching Victoria cross every conceivable line, actually reaching down to forcefully rip off my mother's trousers, the veins in my temples pulsed with blinding rage. "Enough. Get your hands off her. I said enough." I lunged forward, grabbed Victoria by the wrist, and hurled her onto the floor. Victoria sat there stunned for a few seconds before morphing into an absolute banshee, launching herself at me. "You dare hit me? Who the hell do you think you are to lay a hand on me?" "You defend this old hag today, who knows what you'll do tomorrow." "You still haven't explained how you blew five grand on hotel rooms, and now you are slipping cash to these leeches. I am absolutely done with this marriage." She clawed desperately at my face. I stumbled back, trying to block her wild scratches. "Shut your mouth, you monster." A fierce, authoritative voice ripped through the room. My mother, her hair totally disheveled, her blouse still ripped open, stood there with furious, bloodshot eyes. She screamed directly at Victoria. "You wanted to see what was in the bag so badly? I'll show you." She flipped the heavy canvas bag upside down. A mountain of dirty shirts, soiled pants, and stained socks rained down onto the hardwood floor. "Is doing your family's dirty laundry a crime now?" Staring at the massive pile of unwashed clothes, a brief flicker of guilt flashed across Victoria's eyes. But she masked it instantly, reverting back to her tyrannical self. "Even if you didn't steal today, what about last time? What about the time before that?" "Every single one of you is just a blood-sucking tick trying to drain me dry." "Your son is a useless piece of garbage who cheats on me. The apple clearly doesn't fall far from the tree. You're just a bunch of broke, pathetic rats." Watching my elderly parents hang their heads under this relentless barrage of abuse, something inside me completely snapped. I closed the distance between us and delivered a resounding, full-force slap across Victoria's cheek. "Divorce. We are getting a divorce. I am not spending another second in this living hell." Victoria’s head snapped to the side. Tears welled up in her eyes. She glared at me, playing the ultimate victim. "Jason, I feed you. I house you. I gave you a child. You cheat on me, and now you demand a divorce?" "I don't agree to it. I will never agree to it."
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