My Wife Turned My Lodge into Her Childhood Sweetheart's Private Club

"Who were you sending that voice memo to just now? Talking trash about Lucas behind his back again?" Chloe shoved open the break room door.

She didn't so much as glance at the wound still oozing blood on my forehead. She slammed her designer bag onto the coffee table. "I'm warning you, Lucas bringing his friends tomorrow is him doing you a favor. Don't push your luck."

I pressed an iodine-soaked cotton ball to my forehead. The sting cleared my head a little. "He smashed a wine bottle against my head. You call that doing me a favor?"

Chloe rolled her eyes impatiently. "Can you stop obsessing over every little thing? Lucas's wrist is all red. He has surgery tomorrow. That's a surgeon's hand. Could you ever afford to pay for that?"

I went still for a moment.

In three years of marriage, to make her mountain-lodge dream come true, I'd borrowed from predatory lenders without telling my parents and worked from dawn to dark supervising construction and chasing down permits.

She, meanwhile, was in charge of posting retouched scenery photos on Facebook, captioned "Living my best life."

And now someone had split my head open, and my wife was fretting over the attacker's wrist.

"What about his tab—more than $1.4 million? When exactly is he planning to settle it?" I looked up at her calmly.

Chloe shot to her feet. "Money, money, money. Is there anything else in that head of yours? Lucas's friends are all rich or powerful. One introduction from any of them could set this dump up for life. And you? Over a few food bills, you chased after him begging like a beggar. You embarrassed me to death!"

Watching her stand there so self-righteous, I suddenly found it almost funny. "A few food bills? Air-freighted Australian wagyu, French black truffles, Romanée-Conti by the case. Three years, and he hasn't paid a cent. You think that's a little thing?"

Chloe marched over and jabbed a finger in my face. "That's him classing up your lodge! Without Lucas's connections, this place would have gone under ages ago. You're nothing but a kept man. What right do you have to talk money here?"

A kept man.

The words had rolled right off her tongue, without a shred of hesitation.

Back then, she was the one who cried and begged me to move in with her family. Her parents wouldn't let her move far away, she said, and if I would just bend a little, she'd be good to me for the rest of our lives.

I believed her. And for three years, I'd been unpaid labor to her parents and an ATM Lucas could drain dry.

"Fine." I lowered my eyes and quietly slid the liquidation agreement on the table under my notebook. "Since you think he's helping me, I'll make sure tomorrow's banquet is properly prepared."

Chloe froze for a second, as if she hadn't expected me to cave so fast.

She looked me up and down suspiciously, then gave a cold snort. "Good, you know what's good for you. Tomorrow, clean all three floors of the main cabin. Swap every set of sheets for silk. Lucas's friends are allergic to anything that isn't silk. And don't you dare stand around with that dead look on your face. Put on a server's uniform and pour their drinks yourself. If you upset Lucas and he pulls his investment from the lodge, I will make your life hell."

With that, she turned and walked out.

The door shut. I picked up my phone and called our main supplier, Walter Brooks. "Hey, Walt."

"Ethan, buddy, I'm not trying to squeeze you, but if that $670,000 balance doesn't get settled today, I can't keep my business running." Walt's anxious voice came through the line.

I watched the snowflakes drifting outside the window, my voice steady. "Walt, relax. Tomorrow night at eight, bring your crew to the lodge. Principal, interest, every cent owed from the past three years. I'll have the man who ordered it all settle up in one go."

Walt sounded startled. "The man who ordered it? Aren't you the one paying?"

"I won't be the lodge's owner of record much longer." I opened the receivership agreement and looked at the notarized signatures. "Tomorrow there's going to be an extravagant banquet. Every creditor is welcome. I promise you'll get your money."

After hanging up, I texted my attorney, Daniel Grant. "Mr. Grant, has the asset transfer been finalized?"

The reply came within seconds. "Mr. Ward, everything has been finalized. The creditors have taken control of the lodge through the receivership, and you will not be personally liable for any operating debts incurred from this point forward. Tomorrow at eight p.m., the liquidation team will arrive for the formal handover."

I put away my phone and straightened my collar in the mirror.

Lucas loved talking about "classing up" the place, didn't he? Chloe loved posting about "living her best life," didn't she?

Tomorrow, I would give them a banquet they'd never forget.