“In the afternoon, we're going back to my parents’ home. You promised me last week that we’d celebrate the holiday with my family.” I handed Max the freshly ironed suit.

Max stood in front of the mirror, tying his tie. "Did I promise you that?" Without another word, he left the house.

My parents lived in a remote area with limited transportation. You would have to walk to most places. The housekeeper, who had been monitoring activity at the base of the hill, arrived with a convoy of luxury cars to pick me up.

Goldenrod Manor was the most valuable real estate in the city, often rumored to be a priceless century-old estate. In truth, it belonged to my family.

I had originally planned to reveal my true identity to Max today, but clearly, he didn't deserve it.

A notification popped up on my phone. Grace, the new colleague from last week, had updated her social media.

In her photo, Grace strutted confidently in luxury designer attire while my husband trailed behind her, laden with shopping bags from high-end brands. His face in the photo showed a mix of exhaustion and ingratiating smiles.

After dining with my parents, the housekeeper dropped me off at the apartment as usual.

"Miss, you own so many properties. Why insist on living in this old, shabby unit?" The housekeeper’s confusion mirrored my father’s inability to understand why I married someone like Max.

"Shabby? This apartment is located in the prime area of the city. Price isn’t important. What matters is that it’s close to the office."

This apartment was the reason Max was so eager to marry me right after graduation.

"Miss, this is a one-of-a-kind emerald bracelet your father purchased at a Sotheby’s auction for 1.5 billion dollars. He said the villa he gave you for your birthday was too modest and wanted something more appropriate."

The housekeeper respectfully opened the gift box, revealing the bracelet. I gave it a quick glance; the quality was excellent.

Without much thought, I tossed it into my bag and soon became too busy with work to think about it again—until a week later when Grace arrived at the office wearing my bracelet.

"Grace, your bracelet is stunning! It must have cost a fortune."

"Of course! Everything Grace wears is beyond what we can afford."

"I saw this bracelet in a magazine. It was the highlight of a Sotheby’s auction and was sold for 1.5 billion dollars."

"Wait, are you saying Grace’s bracelet is worth 1.5 billion?!"

"Oh my God, she’s just casually wearing a 1.5-billion-dollar bracelet."

Grace entered the office, placing her latest designer handbag conspicuously on her desk. The vivid green of the emerald complemented her complexion perfectly.

Keen-eyed colleagues immediately surrounded her with compliments. Their chatter reached my ears, and when I looked up, I saw the familiar bracelet on Grace's wrist.

"Isn’t that my bracelet?" I muttered to myself, puzzled. How could it be hers when I had locked it in my home safe?

"Putting on airs, Emily? Look at yourself. Do you think you could afford that bracelet?" Max stood across from me, sneering like a smug little tyrant.

"Where did that bracelet come from? I think you know better than I do." My disdain was impossible to hide.

"This bracelet was a gift from Max," Grace replied with a sweet, taunting chuckle. "He didn’t tell me the price, but if I’d known it was so cheap, I wouldn’t have worn it." Clearly, she knew the bracelet's true origins and was flaunting it deliberately.

I immediately asked the housekeeper to review the surveillance footage from home.

The video showed Max sneaking into the house while I was working late. He opened the safe and stole the emerald bracelet. Then he entered my walk-in closet, pulling my clothes off hangers and scattering them on the floor.

Several of my designer handbags from the display shelf were tossed onto the table.

The picture Grace posted on her social media yesterday? It made sense now—she’d been flaunting the spoils of a household thief.

Oblivious to the truth, our colleagues were still fawning over Max.

"Max’s family must be so wealthy! He really kept it hidden."

"I told you guys Max lives in that high-end complex downtown, but none of you believed me."

"Since you’ve kept this a secret, you owe us a fancy meal, Max!"

Blushing at the compliments, Max booked the city’s most luxurious restaurant for all the staff—except me.

Without hesitation, I froze Max’s supplementary credit card. Oblivious to my actions, Max looked terribly smug.

‘I’ll see how you plan to pay then.’

On the first day of my marriage to Max, I gave him a supplementary credit card under my account. At first, he used it for everyday necessities, and I didn’t bother to question the small, trivial expenses.

Later, he realized the card’s credit limit far exceeded his expectations and began recklessly splurging on luxury items to boost his image. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to make a fuss.

Alas, I never expected him to spend my money while shamelessly fawning over someone else in front of me. I quickly deactivated Max’s supplementary card.

On Saturday, Max took my custom blue Santana from the garage, trying to maintain his pretentious image.

"Max, your car is so cool!"

He basked in the compliments, clearly enjoying the flattery. Lately, he’d heard so much praise it probably started to feel routine.

Since it was the weekend, I planned to relax. I booked an appointment at the most scenic spa in the city.

Unfortunately, I forgot the restaurant and the spa were located in the same area—Goldenrod Manor, prime real estate owned by my family. For convenience, I’d decided to establish both venues there.

"Emily, you’re so shameless! You weren’t invited, yet you still followed us here?"

"We should’ve made it clear not to include her. She’s such a buzzkill."

"People like her, who lack exposure to luxury, will do anything to force their way in."

A few colleagues turned to glare at me with disdain. It seemed like I’d made life too convenient for others.

The spa manager received my message and personally came to greet me at the door. "Welcome home, Miss."

A row of 6-foot-tall, modelesque attendants in sleek black suits bowed in unison. What an embarrassing lineup; this was what happened when you let the housekeeper run the business.

The scene startled my colleagues who stared, though not at me, but rather at Grace behind me.

Grace looked flustered, trying to act surprised as if overwhelmed by the gesture. “I didn’t expect the staff to prepare such a surprise for me. How thoughtful..."

In confusion, the manager was about to correct her but stopped when I shot him a look. The show was just beginning, and I was looking forward to it.

While the colleagues showered Max and Grace with attention, I turned and walked into the spa.

Soon, I was soaking in the hot spring, enjoying a luxurious glass of wine prepared by the staff. The only downside? My phone kept pinging with frantic messages from Max.

"Emily, what’s going on? Why isn’t my card working?"

"Emily, answer me!"

"Emily, unfreeze the card right now! You’re humiliating me!"

"Emily, if you don’t unfreeze the card, I’ll divorce you!"

I ignored his messages, and when that didn’t work, he called me repeatedly. I let it ring. Finally, I sent a quick message to the restaurant manager. "Double the bill."

Oblivious to the change, Max took the check and was floored by the final amount. "That’s way too damn expensive!"

Hearing his exclamation, the colleagues leaned in to see.

"Wow, no wonder this is the city’s top restaurant—the prices match the reputation."

"We’re so lucky to have Max treat us. Thank you, Max!"

"This is pocket change for someone like Max."

Confident that my supplementary card would cover it, Max brushed it off. "It’s nothing. As long as everyone enjoys the meal."

However, the card was declined when the manager tried to process the payment. "Sir, this card has been deactivated."

"What? That’s impossible."

Max began to panic. He had grown accustomed to spending extravagantly using my card while his own salary barely covered his daily expenses, leaving him with no savings.

"Sir, if you intend to dine and dash, we will call the police."

"There’s money on the card—it must be a problem with your machine!" Max kept messaging me, begging for help, but I didn’t respond.

Some of the colleagues noticed the commotion and joked.

"Max must have too many cards and forgot the PIN."

"Exactly! These service staff are so impatient."

However, the restaurant manager, who remained unfazed, called the police on his phone and calmly pressed Max for an answer, "So, sir, how do you plan to pay?"