Part 1The Heiress's Alibi

Late one night, I caught my husband French kissing a wealthy heiress from the city's elite circle.

My husband looked panicked.

The Heiress looked calm.

I walked up and greeted them enthusiastically: "Bro, Sister-in-law, what a coincidence!"

The next day, I received a Green Card and a 2,000-square-foot apartment in Manhattan.

* * *

My husband is incredibly handsome.

We were college sweethearts, got married right after graduation, and worked together while squeezing into a tiny apartment in New York.

I loved my husband deeply.

Looking at his face, no matter how broke we were, I had no complaints.

I only hated myself for not knowing how to make big money to give him the good life.

I worked myself to the bone. In this economic downturn, just not getting laid off was a blessing.

I was a useless woman.

My husband and I scrimped and saved, wanting to buy a house.

Owning a home is the ultimate dream.

But real estate prices in New York are astronomical.

Our meager savings were destined to be hopeless.