A Donna's Final Decree

Looking back, I should have only ever chased power.

Feelings fade. Power never betrays you.

With that thought, I walked out of the office building, my next moves already taking shape in my mind.

Just then, my phone buzzed twice.

Brodie had just wired two hundred thousand dollars from our joint account in some offshore tax haven.

Everyone assumed I married Brodie for his money and power.

The irony was suffocating. It was he who had been draining me dry, bleeding my personal assets.

He always claimed the family funds were "tied up in investments," so every bill, every indulgence, was paid for with the inheritance protected by our prenuptial agreement.

I once believed a marriage was a partnership, that we shouldn't keep score. So I said nothing.

Until the numbers stopped adding up. I earned a fortune, but my accounts were always lean.

So I pulled the statements.

And there it was. Brodie had been using this account as a personal slush fund for Bianca.

Thousands on luxury goods. Tens of thousands on designer jewelry. For her birthday, he spent hundreds of thousands to book a private ski resort in Switzerland.

Meanwhile, I was still wearing clothes from two seasons ago. Anything over a thousand dollars was "too extravagant," he'd say, handing me a secondary card while fobbing me off with cheap excuses about "saving for our future."

When I confronted him, he twisted it, calling me petty and paranoid before shutting me out with the silent treatment. Eventually, he swore he’d never touch my money again. A promise as empty as all the others.

Thinking of it all, I called him.

I redialed over ten times. No answer.

So I contacted my private banker directly and initiated the highest security protocol, citing a "suspected major theft" to freeze the account.

Less than sixty seconds later, Brodie’s call came through.

"Sorry, I was busy, didn't see your calls. What's up?" he asked, his voice a mask of casual indifference.

"It's nothing now," I said, my own voice perfectly level.

"That's strange. Your banker just called me. Said the account was frozen."

"I know," I said. "I locked it."

"What the hell are you playing at?" he snapped. "Don't you think I have enough on my plate?"

"Think whatever you want. But didn't you promise me you'd never touch this account again?"

Silence.

I had never fought with him about money.

Years ago, when the family was still on shaky ground, my brother took the fall for one of Brodie’s disastrous turf wars. We needed a million in cash to buy everyone's silence.

Brodie had squandered the family funds. Without a word of complaint, I used the trust fund my mother left me. I didn't ask a single question.

I thought my loyalty would earn his trust.

Instead, it just taught him he could take from me without consequence.

Brodie was silent for a beat, then heaved a sigh, casting himself as the victim. "Okay, I get it. You're still mad about the trip, and this is how you're punishing me," he said. "Honestly, Lia, I thought you were more mature than this. I guess I was wrong."

He sighed again, a true martyr. "Fine. I'll drop everything and take you to the French Riviera. Happy now?"

"Look, I need some emergency funds to grease some palms with a key player. Unfreeze the account and stop making things so complicated. Tonight's dinner is crucial for the family."