My phone buzzed in my pocket, a steady, rhythmic vibration.

I pulled it out, looking at the encrypted screen.

It was a text from Sarah, my lead legal counsel at the firm I had hired the moment I drove away from the house this morning.

I unlocked the screen, my eyes scanning the brief message.

*General, we have a major issue with the joint household account. You need to look at this immediately.*

I kept my face perfectly still, pocketing the phone without showing a hint of concern.

“You’re destroying us,” Marcus said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. “You think you can just walk away with your money and leave us with nothing?”

“It was never your money, Marcus,” I said.

“We worked for you!” Marcus yelled. “I did the renovations on this house!”

“And I paid you double your market rate for every single hour,” I said. “The invoices are all on my desk.”

Marcus opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat. He knew I kept immaculate records.