My Husband Gave My Million-Dollar Car to His Sister-in-Law

I've always had a hot temper and a sharp tongue.

My husband's foster brother had just died, and the very next thing I knew, the Porsche I'd just bought was listed for sale online:

Brand-new limited-edition Porsche. My husband passed away and I can't drive it. Highest bidder takes it.

I thought she was joking. Swallowing my anger, I screenshotted it and sent it to my husband: Your sister-in-law sure loves a good joke.

He was silent for a long while before he spoke: The car's registered under my brother's name. Now that he's gone, naturally it goes to her.

I thought I'd misheard him: Isn't this the dowry car my parents paid for in full? Even by the wildest stretch, there's no way it could've become yours!

His sister-in-law rolled her eyes at me: The car was registered under my husband's information. Now that he's dead, why shouldn't I be allowed to sell it?

My husband spoke up, looking pained: You went to the restroom when we bought it. My brother had an old car to trade in, it saved us a few thousand. And besides, my sister-in-law is carrying his unborn child. Just think of the car as money for the baby's formula.

I laughed in pure fury: Using my eight-million-dollar dowry car as formula money? Is your sister-in-law carrying a golden egg in there?

Or is the kid actually yours, and you set this whole thing up to milk my car to raise your bastard?!

——

At my words, my husband, Rhys Gilbert, instantly knit his brows and ground out a warning through his teeth:

"There's nothing improper between me and my sister-in-law. What nonsense are you spouting?"

I gave a cold laugh: "If there's nothing between you, then what exactly do you call helping her steal my dowry?"

Rhys stared hard at me, paused for a long moment, and finally forced out a single line:

"My brother did right by me. He gave up his chance to go to college so I could go. Just think of it as helping out a widow and her orphan."

Rhys's eyes reddened slightly, clearly remembering the days as a child when there was never enough to eat.

It wasn't that I was unwilling to help Rhys's family.

It was that I couldn't stomach being lied to and schemed against!

When we bought the car, I'd stepped away for just a few minutes to use the restroom, and by the time I came out, Rhys said it was all taken care of.

Because I trusted him, it never once crossed my mind that those few short minutes were enough for something to be done behind my back.

My heart kept sinking, but in the end I gave him one more chance:

"Get the car back. If your sister-in-law ever runs into trouble down the road, I can help. I can even arrange a job for her at the company with good pay and benefits."

Saying that much, I'd already given them more than enough face.

But Rhys's sister-in-law, Tracey Fox, rolled her eyes at me outright:

"You think a salary of a few thousand bucks is going to trick me out of my eight-million-dollar car? Have you lost your mind?"

She clung to Rhys's arm, eyes red, milking the pity: "Rhys, it was your brother who took your place in that sweatshop and got two fingers crushed, left crippled for it. If your fingers had been broken, I'd like to see how you'd install precision instruments then!"

"You can't go through life with no conscience. You're really just going to stand there and watch your wife bully me?"

Rhys looked at me with the expression of a man caught in an impossible bind.

We'd known each other nearly ten years and dated for eight. I knew exactly what Rhys was thinking.

I'd said it before. Out in the world, he was decisive and ruthless.

But the moment it was family, he went soft with no limits whatsoever, and that kind of softness would ruin him sooner or later.

We were barely married, and his sister-in-law was already walking all over me.

Maybe it was that I couldn't bear to throw away ten years of feeling, and because Rhys hadn't crossed any major line of principle, I spoke up one last time:

"Back when you got into college, your family wanted you to drop out and work so your brother could study. If your brother hadn't skipped class and gotten himself expelled, do you think the chance would've ever come to you?"

"And he didn't go into that sweatshop to earn money for your tuition. He went so he could buy a computer to play games, insisted on it, and no one could stop him. When it all went wrong, you were the one who ended up with a broken leg, and I nursed you for the better part of a year before you healed!"

"After you graduated you made eighteen grand a month, and your mom said she'd save it for you, gave you five hundred for spending money. She never once handed any of it over when you married me, and after the wedding you went right on giving your money to her. The cash for your acute gastroenteritis? I covered that too! Your mom said all the money got lost on your brother's investments. Are you an idiot? Don't you have any sense at all?!"