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đŸ”„ My Husband Demanded His $3,000 “Allowance” to Spend on His Mistress—He Had No Idea I Was Sitting on a Nuclear Divorce Strategy. đŸ”„ / Chapter 4 / 6

Chapter 4 - The Audit

The screen didn't show a PowerPoint of business goals.

It showed a blown-up, high-definition screenshot of Landon’s bank statement.

The room went dead silent.

"Karen, what the hell is this?" Landon demanded, his face flushing dark red. He started to stand up. "Turn that off."

"Sit down, Landon," I said. My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a whip. "Or I hit 'send' on an email to the IRS containing every fraudulent tax return you’ve filed for the last five years."

He froze. He slowly sank back into his chair.

I clicked to the next slide. It was a pie chart.

"As you can see," I narrated to the silent, terrified dinner guests, "Landon’s 'consulting firm' has generated exactly zero dollars in revenue over the last decade. However, his expenses are fascinating."

I clicked again.

A collage of receipts filled the screen. $450 at La Bernardin. $1,200 at The Plaza Hotel. $3,000 monthly wire transfers labeled 'Living Expenses'.

"Belle," I said, turning to the young woman who looked like she might throw up. "That dress you're wearing? I bought it. That Chanel bag? It’s mine; you’ll be leaving it at the door when you exit. The 'mentorship program' he's paying for? That’s my paycheck."

Belle whipped her head toward Landon. "You said you were a millionaire! You said she was just a crazy roommate who wouldn't move out!"

"Belle, baby, listen—" Landon stammered, reaching for her.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, swatting his hand away. "You're broke?!"

"Oh, he’s worse than broke," I chimed in, clicking to the next slide. It was a series of photos taken by my private investigator. Landon and Belle entering a motel. Landon and Belle kissing in a park.

The two crypto-buddies quietly stood up, abandoned their wine, and bolted for the front door without saying a word.

"You crazy bitch," Landon snarled, the mask completely falling off. His eyes were wild, his fists clenched. "You think this matters? You think a few photos mean anything? Half this apartment is mine. Half your savings are mine. If you want a divorce, you're going to pay me alimony for the rest of my life. I will bleed you dry!"

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The metallic echo of the doorbell cut through the silence of my Chicago apartment like a serrated blade. On the television screen, the news anchor’s voice droned on, detailing the multi-million-dollar embezzlement scandal anchored to Bennett Senior Living. My cell phone was still warm against my ear, Allison’s panicked breathing hitching in the static-filled receiver.

The metallic echo of the doorbell cut through the silence of my Chicago...

The kitchen went dead silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the gas burner igniting under Serena’s heavy steel pot.

The kitchen went dead silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and t...

The heavy, broken sobbing of a four-year-old boy finally echoed into silence, replaced only by the rhythmic, shallow gasps of a child utterly exhausted by his own grief. Valeria remained kneeling on the cold marble floor for over twenty minutes, her knees aching, her bruised ribs throbbing beneath her oversized uniform, yet she refused to move an inch. She simply rested her chin against Mateo’s soft, unwashed black hair, her hand gently tracing circles along his small, tense spine.

The heavy, broken sobbing of a four-year-old boy finally echoed into sil...

I smiled. A genuine, bright smile.

"I was hoping you'd bring up the legalities," I said.

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