Part 3: Time to Fight BackMy Wife Put Me on An Allowance
About 4,692 characters · Part 3 is the last of the three Parts printed here; Part 4 continues in the official app.
I contacted a friend who was a computer whiz and sent him forty thousand to have him trace every financial transaction connected to Susan's accounts, along with the sources of money flowing between her and her family. At the same time, I sent in a formal report to Susan's employer, flagging her unexplained wealth.
Susan worked for a major state-owned corporation, and the company had been cracking down hard lately. She had just bought a handbag worth more than three hundred thousand, and her car was worth well over a million.
These days, even people who flaunted wealth did it quietly.
However, Susan was different. She'd gone from nothing to living like a millionaire, and she'd made sure everyone knew it. Naturally, that had attracted plenty of attention, and plenty of envy.
Before, whenever anyone questioned her lifestyle, she'd simply said the money was mine.
Now, her employer could take a closer look at exactly where all that money had come from. At the same time, I'd have time to gather evidence of my own.
My friend worked fast. It wasn't long before he sent me everything. The further I read through the transaction records, the colder I felt.
For the past three years, Susan had used the excuse of supporting her parents to send them five thousand every month. Around holidays, she'd send at least fifty thousand at a time.
Altogether, she'd transferred more than two million to her parents. Then, there was the three million she'd spent buying a house for her brother and sister-in-law.
That wasn't all, though. She'd bought countless luxury items under one pretext or another, and her sister-in-law was constantly carrying a different designer handbag.
That was where my money had gone.
Susan had been pouring everything she had into her family, while treating me as though I couldn't be trusted with my own paycheck.
I couldn't even buy medication without asking her permission, but she held nothing back when it came to her family.
If I didn't make Susan pay for this, I'd be a disgrace to myself.
Just then, my friend called me.
He worked at a bank. Susan's employer had asked for her transaction statements as part of the investigation, and he'd seen the request come in.
"Hey, did something happen to Susan?"
"Yeah. I'm the one who reported her."
He was baffled by my words.
When I explained that Susan had taken control of everything I owned, he was in a fit of rage. "Ryan, are you out of your mind? You two were never on equal footing to begin with. Marrying her was one thing, but I can't believe you actually handed her all your money!"
"Yeah, well, I regret it now. I'm getting a divorce."
My friend went quiet for a moment before saying, "If you need anything, tell me."
He hung up, and a moment later, another 10 million landed in my account. Then, a message popped up.
"I know you're broke right now. If you need any help, just ask!"
I stared at those words and smiled. Then, without any warning, I started crying.
I sat there on the side of the road, laughing and crying at the same time, and the people walking by steered clear of me.
After some time, I wiped my eyes and got back on my feet.
Then, Susan called me again.
"Ryan, are you trying to destroy me? You're the one who reported me, aren't you? My company called me in for questioning. But guess what? I walked away without a scratch. You can't touch me!"
I smiled and replied, "I can play this game with you as long as you want. The divorce papers have already been sent to you. Do yourself a favor and sign them."
Susan was stunned and said in disbelief, "What did you just say? Do you want a divorce? Did you report me and divorce me all because of a watch?"
"Yes. All because of that."
Then, I hung up and paid to boost a post on social media.
While her employer was investigating her, I decided to take the whole thing public.
I didn't mention any names. After all, once the story spread, the people would put the pieces together themselves.
The moment the title—"My Corporate Wife Runs Our Marriage Like a Government Office! I Need Her Approval Every Time I Spend My Own Money!"—went public, it blew up.
I uploaded copies of Susan's request forms and approval sheets, and picked out a few of her greatest hits. One was a request to buy a birthday cake that cost 129 dollars, and another was for a pair of silk socks that cost 98 bucks. At the same time, I showed the written notes she left about the price.
"Honey, the group-buy deal for cakes is only 38 dollars. Just get that one. It's only a birthday. You have one every year, so there's no reason to spend that much."
"Your underwear doesn't last long anyway, so don't buy expensive ones. A cheap bulk pack online is fine."
I hoped she was ready for this flood of attention.