When I Refused to Pay for Dinner, My Husband Threw Wine in My Face. He Never Expected What I Did Next.

“Hannah, look at these transactions over the past eighteen months.

Small amounts initially, then larger sums totaling over thirty-five thousand dollars.”

I gripped the edge of the desk.

“Where did it go?”

“Mostly to accounts controlled by Gertrude’s company,” Brenda explained.

I stared at the screen in disbelief.

That was money I had earned working weekends and late nights to build my consulting business.

I went into the restroom and cried quietly, remembering how Spencer used to kiss my forehead and tell me how proud he was of my hard work while secretly siphoning my funds.