The Secretary Stole My Husband, So I Took Back My Empire

I bought a bubble tea. Accidentally paid with my husband's shared wallet. Before I'd even left the shop, two officers had me on the floor, face against tile, telling me I was under suspicion for embezzling corporate funds.

While I was still trying to process what was happening, my husband's new secretary called.

"Ms. Fox, I'm the one who called the police! Do you even realize that every cent you spend is CEO Henson's hard-earned money?!"

"CEO Henson works himself to the bone, and you're out here throwing his money around! Starting today, I'm in charge of all your spending. Every single purchase goes through me first—I approve it, or you don't spend it!"

"Also, your monthly allowance is five hundred dollars. You've already used four hundred ninety-nine today. You don't get to spend another cent this month!"

She was so serious, so pleased with herself. I laughed.

The girl had been at the company one month.

My husband was polite to her a few times, and she'd crowned herself his personal manager—stepping in to run his life and mine.

But she had no idea.

The company was mine. Every dollar in my husband's bank accounts was mine. Even her salary came from me.

And her precious "Mr. Henson"?

He married into *my* family.

So who the hell was she to manage my money on his behalf?

——

The officers heard Belinda's words through the phone, then looked at my screen showing a shared-wallet charge of three dollars and fifty-two cents after coupons.

Their faces went dark.

They apologized profusely, promising they'd report the false police call back to my husband's company.

But I was doubled over against the counter, barely standing.

"It hurts—God, it hurts so bad. I think the baby's coming… please, someone get me to a hospital!"

Everyone scrambled to get me into a car and rushed me there.

They got me checked in, and right away they needed payment. I gritted my teeth through the pain and shoved every bank card from my wallet across the counter.

A few minutes later, the nurse came back with all of them.

"Ma'am, your cards have no balance."

My whole body went cold.

"That's impossible! Those cards had tens of millions between them at least. How can they be empty?"

Then Belinda's words hit me, and it clicked—she'd cleaned out every account.

I called my husband.

The phone rang a few times and connected.

"Honey, I—"

But it was Belinda's impatient voice on the other end.

"Oh, Ms. Fox, give it a rest already. So your spending got cut off—what, you couldn't wait five minutes before crying to him about it?"

"Don't bother. CEO Henson authorized this himself."

I swallowed down the pain and didn't waste time arguing with her.

"I'm at the hospital right now. I need money. Give me back what's mine."

"Or put my husband on the phone. Now."

Her voice came through dripping with superiority:

"CEO Henson is busy. He doesn't have time for your little problems—he handed all of this to me to deal with."

"You want money? Fine. Do what I told you. Submit a request through the internal approval portal. If I approve it, you'll get your funds."

"Oh, and your remaining allowance for the month is one dollar. Don't bother requesting more than that."

The pain tore through me. My face had gone white. I couldn't hold back anymore.

"I told you—I'm in the hospital! I'm about to give birth! They need payment now!"

"These aren't Fergus Henson's cards—they're mine! Transfer my money back right now, or I'm reporting you for theft!"