Mag-log inAfter we got married, my husband, Mason Callahan, handed over his debit card and told me to treat myself, no limits. Then his mom ended up in the hospital. The second he asked me to transfer the money for her treatment, I told him that there was none left. He flew into a rage. "I give you ten grand a month! How the hell can you have zero dollars left? "I said you could treat yourself, but you actually blew through every cent? You didn't save a dime? God, how did I end up marrying such a wasteful woman?" I didn't bother arguing. I simply asked for a divorce.
view moreI let out a cold laugh."Phoebe, your brother is a grown man. He needs to take responsibility for his own actions."And don't ever contact me about his problems again," I interrupted, cutting straight through her hysterical crying, "We're divorced."A sharp, shrieking insult blasted through the speaker. "Sophie, you heartless bitch—"I hung up on the spot and blocked the number.A second later, my assistant brought in a stack of folders, looking at me with a curious glance."Ma’am... Was that your ex-husband's family?""Yeah."She hesitated, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I heard things are getting pretty ugly over there. His mother took the news so hard she ended up in the ICU... She passed away a few days later..."I tossed my phone onto the desk with a heavy clack."Embezzling corporate funds to pay off personal debt. Smart brain, completely wasted on illegal plays."My assistant snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth as her eyes sparkled."Should I have PR monitor
With a heavy thud, Mason dropped to his knees right on the concrete.He lunged forward, grabbing the hem of my jeans, weeping like a broken child."Sophie, I was wrong! I was so wrong!" he sobbed, tears and snot smearing all over his face."It was that snake Hannah! She seduced me! I just lost my mind for a second! You're the only one I ever loved!"Sophie, please give me one more chance! Let's get remarried, let's start over!"He wailed without a shred of dignity left.Reporters instantly swarmed the scene, pointing their cameras down at the spectacle.I looked down at the man I once looked up to, sprawling across the pavement like a stray dog at my feet.The whole sight was utterly laughable.I used the toe of my designer heel to kick his hands off my clothes in disgust."Save the performance, Mason."Instead of crying on the street, you should figure out how you're going to pay me back."And back off. You disgust me."I turned on my heel and walked straight toward the w
The logs spanned three full years.However, that wasn't even all of it.I clicked open the next folder, and dense rows of online order histories flashed across the monitor.Lingerie, imported contraceptives, and explicit adult toys.Shipping address: Hannah Brooks' apartment.Payment account: our joint marital card.The gallery blew up completely."Holy crap, they were wild...""Using his wife's money to maintain a mistress and buy that stuff? What an absolute scumbag!"Mason completely lost control. Screaming, he lunged toward the gallery and grabbed Hannah by her collar."You idiot! Didn't you say you deleted everything?! Why is it still here?!"Hannah screamed, frightened out of her mind, as she shoved him back. "How should I know?! I deleted it! I really deleted it!"Bailiffs rushed forward immediately, wrestling the two apart.A standard divorce suit had devolved into a city-wide televised circus.I watched their pathetic squabble with a cold glare before stepping ba
On Hannah's wrist was the $50,000 Patek Philippe watch.Slung over her shoulder was the $30,000 Hermès Birkin bag.Around her neck was the $60,000 Cartier Eternity piece.Every single image was ripped straight from her self-obsessed social media selfies, serving as undisputed digital proof.Mason had used our joint savings to deck out his secret mistress in high-end luxury.Then came the next set of photos.Every single "gift" Mason had ever given me over five years.A screenshot from an online budget site showing a fifteen-dollar plastic bracelet with free shipping.A photo of a free department store sample lipstick shorter than my pinky finger.A single, wilting, bargain-bin rose he bought off a street vendor for my birthday.The total value was less than 30 bucks.The night-and-day contrast landed like a deafening slap straight across the faces of Mason and his entire family.Camera shutters went wild, sounding like a hail of gunfire.The entire gallery and press line br






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