My Wife Put Me on An Allowance

I made fifty thousand a month, yet there I was at the hospital pharmacy counter, red-faced, because my card got declined. I quickly texted my wife. "Hurry up and transfer three hundred to me. I can't cover my preion, and I'm standing here at the register!" … A moment later, she replied with a link to a form. "Don't forget to submit an allowance advance request, honey!" In that instant, I suddenly realized that this was it for us. Then, I put the receipt down, walked out of the hospital, and drove straight to the law firm. "I want a divorce." Chapter 1 The Last Straw My wife, Susan Miles, and I had been married for three years. During that time, I had put everything I owned into our joint account. It had been Susan's idea. "Honey, a marriage should be equal. There's a big difference between our incomes, and that kind of gap can easily become a source of conflict. Why don't we put all our money together? I'll manage the account and handle our expenses. That way, we can cut down on unnecessary spending." At that time, I agreed. Now, my stomach condition had flared up badly, and the pain was almost unbearable. However, the balance on my medical card wasn't enough to cover the preion, as I was still two hundred short. The staff member behind the counter was getting impatient. "Are you done yet? There are people still waiting behind you!" Embarrassed, I picked up the bill and said, "Sorry. I won't be getting it today." She stared at me in surprise as I turned away, clutching my stomach and doubling over with every stab of pain. … Meanwhile, messages from Susan kept coming. "Honey, why haven't you filled it out yet? If you don't get it done within the time limit, you won't get the money today!" I looked at the message and laughed in disbelief. That was right. According to Susan's rules, I had ten minutes to complete the request form once she sent it to me. If I missed the deadline, I lost my eligibility to request money for the rest of the day. If I needed cash after that, I had to wait until tomorrow. As I thought about it, I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone again, and asked a friend to lend me a thousand dollars. Then, he called me immediately. "Ryan, what's going on? Is something wrong?" After I gave him a quick rundown, he transferred me fifty thousand on the spot. "If it's still not enough, just tell me!" As I stared at the number on my screen, my heart went cold. After all, the woman who shared my bed made me file an application for two hundred, while my friend had sent me fifty thousand in one go without any questions asked. That was the difference between people. I bought my medication and headed home with my mind already made up once the pain finally eased. … The moment I walked through the door, I found Susan sitting on the couch, showing off a brand-new designer bag. "What do you think? It just went on sale, and I knew I had to have it the second I saw it. I even got ten percent off and paid for it in full!" The smug satisfaction on her face made my expression darken. "Susan, I'm not letting you manage my money anymore." She froze. "Honey, what are you talking about? With the way you spend money, could you even save ten thousand of it on your own, even though you earn fifty thousand a month? I know you're upset, but don't be. This bag holds its value." Listening to her words, I almost laughed. When I wanted to spend some money, I was reckless. However, when she wanted to spend it, it was an investment. Only then did I realize I'd severely underestimated the depths of her double standards. Thinking about it, I pushed past her and went into the bathroom. I pulled up our joint account on my phone and noticed that there were only three hundred dollars. Just then, Susan's voice came through the door. "Honey, I know you're upset, so I'm not making you fill out a request for that three hundred today. Instead, I'm giving it to you directly. See? I treat you pretty well, don't I?" I said nothing. Instead, I contacted a lawyer and asked him to handle my divorce. After reviewing the information I'd sent, he gave me his assessment. First, he told me that I needed to determine exactly how much property we had. After all, splitting it evenly would already be difficult, and getting back most of the money I'd earned myself would be harder still. Moreover, since I was the one asking for the divorce, I should expect to give up some of it. When I heard this, I dug my nails into my palm. Then, I started going through Susan's social media accounts. That was when I discovered her brother had just moved into a new house. Not just any house, either. It was in the best neighborhood in the city, in a highly sought-after school district. Plus, it had been paid for in cash. Her brother was in his thirties with no steady job, while his wife stayed home with their child. Hence, there was no way they could have paid for that house on their own. The answer was obvious. It was Susan. She'd been moving money out of our joint account and into her family's pockets, and I would be damned if I allowed her to keep draining me. My first instinct was to storm in there and demand answers, but my lawyer's words stopped me. I needed evidence. Moreover, if I fought with her now, I'd be at a disadvantage. Thinking about it, I forced myself to calm down and logged into my online banking to report my bank card as lost. Chapter 2 Everything I Owned Was Hers I did the math. Between my fifty thousand monthly salary, commissions, year-end bonuses, and stock holdings, Susan was controlling nearly thirty million of my money. On the other hand, Susan herself made eight thousand a month, and aside from that, she had nothing. Yet, she somehow had a net worth in the tens of millions. She casually bought herself six-figure handbags and all kinds of luxury goods. Meanwhile, I had nothing. Even my watches and rings were locked away. If I wanted to wear one, I had to submit a request explaining exactly what occasion it was for. According to Susan, I had too many business dinners and social events, which was unnecessary. She insisted that eating at home was the healthiest. As for my watches and rings? She told me that I didn't need those, and that simplicity was the best. Back then, she had said it all so convincingly, going on about the beauty of simplicity, that I hadn't made a fuss. Besides, when work got hectic, wearing expensive accessories really could be inconvenient. Looking back now, I realized I had been manipulated this whole time. I took a deep breath, pulled myself together, and walked straight to the safe. Susan followed me as she asked, "Honey, what are you doing?" "I have a launch event the day after tomorrow. I need a watch to go with my suit." When I reached the safe and entered the combination, I realized it came back wrong. Then, I turned to Susan and asked, "Did you change the combination?" "Yes. If you need anything, just tell me. I changed all the passwords in the house." In that split second, anger surged through me. "What gives you the right to do that? That safe is mine. I set the combination and bought everything inside it. What right did you have to change it? Starting today, you won't control another cent of what's in my name!" However, Susan merely looked at me with a calm expression. "Sweetheart, you seemed to be exhausted. Has work been stressful lately? You were the one who gave me this authority in the first place. Why won't you now? Did someone say something to you?" When she tried to reach up and ruffle my head, I slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me. You feel like a stranger to me." Susan glanced at the red mark on the back of her hand. Then, she said in a warning tone, "Honey, be good and listen to me, and nothing else has to happen. If you don't, I'll have to punish you." At that moment, I was furious. "Open the safe now. I'm taking my watch!" "No. Remember to submit a request." I sucked in a breath and raised my hand, but before I could swing, she caught my wrist and held it in a death grip. "Ryan, you're emotionally unstable right now. You shouldn't touch our marital assets anymore. Be a good boy and let me handle everything. If you want money, just submit an application." I was so furious I laughed. "Do you think you can force my hand?" Susan smiled and replied, "You're overthinking this. Go get a good night's sleep." She was completely unfazed, probably not afraid that I'd ask for a divorce. I didn't need to open the safe to know the truth that everything inside was already gone. I couldn't take another second of it as I turned and walked out the door. I'd barely made it downstairs when she called me. "Were you planning to go to your apartment on the west side? Sorry. I sold that one too." I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to look up. Susan was standing at the window of our high-rise apartment, smiling down at me. "Come back up. It's getting late." My nails dug into my palms. I couldn't believe she'd actually dared to sell my apartment. "Susan, forging someone's signature is a crime. We'll see about this." I had my lawyer draft the divorce agreement and send it to her immediately. Then, I got into my car and drove off without hesitation. Susan called again and again, but I didn't pick up once since I didn't want to hear anything from her. There was no time to waste. Now that we were already in the middle of a fight, there was no reason to show her any respect. Chapter 3 Time to Fight Back I contacted a friend who was a computer whiz and sent him forty thousand to have him trace every financial transaction connected to Susan's accounts, along with the sources of money flowing between her and her family. At the same time, I sent in a formal report to Susan's employer, flagging her unexplained wealth. Susan worked for a major state-owned corporation, and the company had been cracking down hard lately. She had just bought a handbag worth more than three hundred thousand, and her car was worth well over a million. These days, even people who flaunted wealth did it quietly. However, Susan was different. She'd gone from nothing to living like a millionaire, and she'd made sure everyone knew it. Naturally, that had attracted plenty of attention, and plenty of envy. Before, whenever anyone questioned her lifestyle, she'd simply said the money was mine. Now, her employer could take a closer look at exactly where all that money had come from. At the same time, I'd have time to gather evidence of my own. My friend worked fast. It wasn't long before he sent me everything. The further I read through the transaction records, the colder I felt. For the past three years, Susan had used the excuse of supporting her parents to send them five thousand every month. Around holidays, she'd send at least fifty thousand at a time. Altogether, she'd transferred more than two million to her parents. Then, there was the three million she'd spent buying a house for her brother and sister-in-law. That wasn't all, though. She'd bought countless luxury items under one pretext or another, and her sister-in-law was constantly carrying a different designer handbag. That was where my money had gone. Susan had been pouring everything she had into her family, while treating me as though I couldn't be trusted with my own paycheck. I couldn't even buy medication without asking her permission, but she held nothing back when it came to her family. If I didn't make Susan pay for this, I'd be a disgrace to myself. Just then, my friend called me. He worked at a bank. Susan's employer had asked for her transaction statements as part of the investigation, and he'd seen the request come in. "Hey, did something happen to Susan?" "Yeah. I'm the one who reported her." He was baffled by my words. … When I explained that Susan had taken control of everything I owned, he was in a fit of rage. "Ryan, are you out of your mind? You two were never on equal footing to begin with. Marrying her was one thing, but I can't believe you actually handed her all your money!" "Yeah, well, I regret it now. I'm getting a divorce." My friend went quiet for a moment before saying, "If you need anything, tell me." He hung up, and a moment later, another 10 million landed in my account. Then, a message popped up. "I know you're broke right now. If you need any help, just ask!" I stared at those words and smiled. Then, without any warning, I started crying. I sat there on the side of the road, laughing and crying at the same time, and the people walking by steered clear of me. After some time, I wiped my eyes and got back on my feet. Then, Susan called me again. "Ryan, are you trying to destroy me? You're the one who reported me, aren't you? My company called me in for questioning. But guess what? I walked away without a scratch. You can't touch me!" I smiled and replied, "I can play this game with you as long as you want. The divorce papers have already been sent to you. Do yourself a favor and sign them." Susan was stunned and said in disbelief, "What did you just say? Do you want a divorce? Did you report me and divorce me all because of a watch?" "Yes. All because of that." Then, I hung up and paid to boost a post on social media. While her employer was investigating her, I decided to take the whole thing public. I didn't mention any names. After all, once the story spread, the people would put the pieces together themselves. The moment the title—"My Corporate Wife Runs Our Marriage Like a Government Office! I Need Her Approval Every Time I Spend My Own Money!"—went public, it blew up. I uploaded copies of Susan's request forms and approval sheets, and picked out a few of her greatest hits. One was a request to buy a birthday cake that cost 129 dollars, and another was for a pair of silk socks that cost 98 bucks. At the same time, I showed the written notes she left about the price. "Honey, the group-buy deal for cakes is only 38 dollars. Just get that one. It's only a birthday. You have one every year, so there's no reason to spend that much." "Your underwear doesn't last long anyway, so don't buy expensive ones. A cheap bulk pack online is fine." I hoped she was ready for this flood of attention.