Chapter 1

I make ten thousand dollars a month, but right now, I’m standing at the hospital pharmacy counter, burning with embarrassment. My card was declined.

I quickly opened Snapchat and messaged my husband. "Send me fifty dollars, fast. My card is declined and I need to pay for my stomach medication!"

A second later, he sent over a PDF link. "Honey, don't forget to fill out the Allowance Request Form first!"

At that exact moment, cold reality hit me. We were done.

I folded the unpaid prescription receipt, walked straight out of the hospital, and drove to a law firm.

"I need your help," I told the attorney. "I want a divorce."

I’ve been married to Ethan for three years. During this time, I put all of my assets and income into a joint bank account.

It was Ethan’s idea.

"Vivian, marriage is about equality. But our incomes are too different, and that can easily cause friction."

"How about we put all our money together? I’ll manage it, handle the bills, and cut down on unnecessary spending."

I had agreed back then. And now, the result was that my stomach ulcer was acting up, I was in agonizing pain, and I couldn't even pay for my medication because my personal account was short by thirty dollars.

The clerk behind the counter was getting impatient.

"Are you paying or not? There’s a line behind you."

I awkwardly tucked the slip into my pocket. "Sorry, not today."

Under her pitying gaze, I turned around, clutching my throbbing stomach, and walked away.

My phone buzzed repeatedly with messages from Ethan. "Vivian, why haven't you submitted the form yet? If you miss the daily approval window, you won't get the transfer today!"

I looked at the screen and let out a cold, bitter laugh.

Yes, according to his ridiculous rules, I had to fill out the request within ten minutes of receiving the form. Otherwise, I’d lose my eligibility for the day and would have to wait until tomorrow to get any cash.

I took a deep breath, opened PayPal, and messaged my best friend, Chloe, to borrow a hundred bucks. She called me instantly.

"Vivian, what's wrong? Are you in trouble?"

I explained the situation in two sentences. Without a word, she sent $10,000 to my account. "Tell me if you need more!"

Looking at the notification, my heart felt like ice.

The man sleeping next to me made me write an application for thirty dollars.

My best friend sent me ten grand without a second thought. That is the difference in human nature.

After buying the medicine and feeling a bit better, I drove home. I had already made up my mind.

As soon as I walked through the door, I saw Ethan. He was sitting on the sofa, eagerly showing off his wrist. "Look at this! This watch just dropped today, and I nabbed it."

"Got a ten percent discount. Paid in cash!"

Looking at his smug face, my expression went cold.

"Ethan, from now on, I’m not putting a single penny into our joint account."

Ethan froze. "Vivian, what are you talking about? With the way you throw money around, you make ten grand a month and can barely save a thousand. You'd go broke without me."

"I know you're mad about the medicine. But look at this watch—it’s an investment! It holds its value."

I sneered inwardly. When I spent money, it was "throwing it around." When he bought a luxury watch, it was an "investment."

I had truly underestimated his double standards.

I pushed past him, went to the bathroom, and logged into our joint account. There was only fifty dollars left in it.

Ethan’s voice drifted in from the living room. "Honey, I know you're upset. Tell you what, I’ll let you have that fifty dollars today without the form. Consider it a gift."

"See? Your husband takes good care of you."

I didn't reply. I just sent a text to my lawyer.

After reviewing my situation, the lawyer told me the first step was to find out exactly how much money we had.

To get a fair share of the assets, or to claw back the majority of the wealth I had earned, was going to be difficult.

Since I was the one initiating the divorce, I might have to compromise on some funds.

I clenched my fists. I opened Instagram and checked his family’s profiles. I saw that his brother, Tyler, had just moved into a brand-new house.

It was in the city's most expensive gated community. Paid in full.

Tyler was in his thirties, had no steady job, and his wife, Sarah, was a stay-at-home mom. Where on earth did they get the money to buy a luxury house in cash?

Obviously, it was Ethan.

He had drained our joint account to fund his leech of a family while keeping me on a leash. What a joke!

My instinct was to storm out and confront him, but my lawyer's warning echoed in my mind: "You need hard evidence first."

If I blew my cover now, I would lose.

I forced myself to calm down, logged onto my mobile banking, and reported all my credit cards as lost.