MY HUSBAND PUT DOWN THE DIVORCE PAPERS WITH A SMILE AND SAID ACCEPT MY MISTRESS OR WE’LL BREAK UP…
Chapter 1: The Ultimatum on the Kitchen Table
Our penthouse was on the 45th floor of Water Tower Place, overlooking the bustling Michigan Avenue. Outside, January snow was falling heavily, but inside, the air was colder than ice.
Richard Sterling, my husband, CEO of a venture capital firm, placed a stack of documents on the marble kitchen island. He was wearing silk pajamas, a glass of Scotch whiskey in his hand, and a cruelly radiant smile played on his lips.
“Elena,” he said, pushing the documents toward me. “This is the divorce papers.”
I looked at the paper. “You want a divorce?”
“Not exactly,” Richard took a sip of whiskey. “I’m giving you a choice. You know Jessica, right? The model all the talk in the newspapers lately?”
I tightened my grip on the glass. Of course I knew her. All of Chicago knew her.
“I love her,” Richard said casually, as if discussing a new car. “But I need you too. You’re the perfect wife in terms of image: beautiful, educated, the daughter of a Senator. I’m preparing for a new funding round; I can’t afford a divorce scandal right now. It would worry conservative investors.”
He moved closer to me, his face almost touching mine.
“So, here’s the deal: Accept my mistress. She’ll move in. We’ll be a modern family. You keep your Mrs. Sterling status, I have love. Otherwise… we’ll separate.”
He pointed to the divorce papers.
“And remember, the prenuptial agreement you signed 10 years ago is very strict. If we divorce, you’ll leave with nothing. No house, no alimony. You’ve quit your job 10 years ago to be a housewife; how do you think you’ll survive in this expensive city?”
I looked at Richard. His arrogance made me nauseous. He thought he had the upper hand. He thought I was a rat in a cage, forced to choose between sharing my husband or starving.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.
“Fine,” I said, my voice calm. “If that’s what you want. Bring her here.”
Richard was surprised for a second, then laughed loudly. “I knew you were smart, Elena. You’ll like Jessica. She’s very… lively.”
Chapter 2: A “Three-Person” Life
Jessica moved in the next day. She was 24, hot, and completely shameless.
She strutted around the house in lace lingerie, bossed the maid around, and openly cuddled Richard right in front of me.
“Hello, Elena,” Jessica said to me at breakfast, her voice sugary. “Would you mind if I used your car? Richard said your Mercedes would go better with my dress.”
“Go ahead,” I replied, sipping my black coffee.
Richard looked at me triumphantly. He thought he had tamed me. He thought I had accepted my fate as a “cover” to maintain my luxurious lifestyle.
But Richard forgot one thing: Before becoming a housewife, I was the valedictorian of the Accounting and Auditing program at the University of Chicago. And I was the daughter of a Senator—who taught me that in politics and war, the one who reveals their hand first dies.
Richard thought I stayed for the money.
I stayed because I needed access.
Every night, while Richard and Jessica were drunk in the master bedroom (I’d moved to the living room), I’d wake up.
I didn’t cry. I worked.
Richard was very careful at the office, but at home, he was careless. He shared the WiFi for both work and entertainment. He left his iPad in the living room. And most importantly, he believed I was a tech-illiterate old lady.
I installed a keylogger on his computer when he asked me to clean his desk.
I started gathering data.
I found Cayman Islands bank accounts.
I found emails about insider trading.
And I found a plan to dispose of assets to kick me out after a successful funding round.
But the most interesting thing I found wasn’t on Richard’s computer.
It was on Jessica’s phone.
One afternoon, while Jessica was swimming, she left her phone on the couch. I unlocked it (she used Richard’s birthdate as her password, how naive!).
I read her messages. And I smiled.
It turned out Jessica didn’t love Richard. She was in huge debt from her gambling addiction. She was being threatened by gangsters. She approached Richard because she knew he was rich. And she was secretly selling the jewelry Richard had given her to pay off her debts.
A perfect plan formed in my head. Not a jealous confrontation. But a counter-strategy.
Chapter 3: The Puppet Party
Three months later.
Richard threw a big party at his penthouse to celebrate his fund reaching $1 billion in assets under management. He invited all his partners, investors, and even my father – Senator Vance.
Richard wanted me to play the role of the happy wife. He wanted my father to see that his daughter was doing well, so that he could continue using his political influence to protect his projects.
I wore a bright red evening gown. Jessica, in her capacity as “personal assistant” (publicly known), wore a dress.
A black dress with a deep slit.
The party was at its climax. Richard stood in the middle of the room, raising a glass of Champagne.
“Thank you everyone!” he said loudly. “Today’s success is thanks to the support of my family. Elena, my wife…” He pointed at me, giving a forced smile.
I walked over to him. I took the microphone.
“Thank you, Richard,” I said. “You’re right. Family comes first. And honesty is the foundation of family.”
I looked at Jessica, who was standing in the corner of the room.
“Jessica, could you come here for a moment?”
Jessica walked over, bewildered. Richard frowned, whispering to me, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m helping you,” I said softly, then turned to the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my husband, Richard, is a very generous man. He’s so generous that he invited Jessica to live with us for the past three months.”
The crowd murmured. My father’s face darkened.
“But there’s one thing Richard doesn’t know,” I continued, pulling a stack of photos from my purse. “That is, Jessica isn’t a model.”
I tossed the photos onto the table.
“She’s Sarah Higgins, a professional con artist wanted in Nevada for identity theft and romance scams.”
Jessica’s—or Sarah’s—face turned deathly pale.
Richard was stunned. “What?”
“And Richard,” I turned to my husband. “Do you think she loves you? She copied your entire Crypto Wallet key last week. This morning, she was planning to transfer your entire $50 million stash to an anonymous account and run away after this party.”
I held up Jessica’s phone (I’d confiscated it before the party).
“The transfer order is already prepared. Just one click.”
Richard lunged forward, grabbing Jessica by the collar. “You dare to trick me? I’ll give you everything!”
“Let go of me!” Jessica screamed. “You’re a fraud too! You used dirty money to support me!”
The banquet hall descended into chaos. The investors exchanged horrified glances. My father stood up, his eyes blazing.
“But that’s not the best part,” I said loudly, drowning out the argument.
I turned to Richard, smiling.
“You gave me a choice: Accept the mistress or break up. I chose to accept. But I didn’t say I accepted her.”
I pointed to the front door.
The door opened.
A team of FBI and Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) agents entered. Agent Miller led the way.
Richard released Jessica and stepped back. “FBI? Why…?”
“Because you chose the Third Choice,” I said coldly. “You chose the Truth.”
Chapter 4: The Wife’s Twist
“Richard Sterling,” Agent Miller said. “You’re arrested for insider trading, money laundering, and securities fraud.”
“No! I didn’t do it! My wife… she framed me!” Richard yelled, pointing at me.
“You’re wrong, Richard,” I stepped in front of him. “I didn’t frame you. I just… filed your tax returns for you.”
I pulled a legal document from my pocket.
“Do you remember last week you asked me to sign a bunch of papers? You said it was for renewing your insurance. You didn’t read what you tucked in between those papers.”
Richard’s face went pale.
“You signed the Whistleblower Disclosure,” I said. “You signed the document yourself, allowing me, as your wife, to provide the SEC with all of our family’s financial data in exchange for immunity from liability for myself.”
“And according to the SEC’s Whistleblower Act,” I smiled. “The whistleblower receives 10% to 30% of the total fines collected from the case. Given the scale of your fraud, that would be around $20 million.”
Richard collapsed to the floor. He looked at me like I was a monster. He thought I was a docile lamb. He didn’t expect me to be a wolf who had patiently sharpened my fangs for three months in his own den.
“Why?” he whispered. “You gave me a chance to stay…”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” I leaned down and whispered in his ear. “You humiliated me. You brought that whore home, forced me to serve her, forced me to watch her wear my jewelry. Did you think I’d accept that for the money? No, Richard. I accepted it because I wanted to see this moment. The moment you lose everything: money, honor, and freedom.”
Agent Miller handcuffed Richard. Jessica was also arrested on an old warrant.
The two adulterers were dragged away amidst a sea of reporters’ cameras (I had “accidentally” leaked the news about the party).
Chapter Conclusion: The Price of Freedom
My father came over and hugged me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you had to endure this.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” I smiled, looking down at the wedding ring on my finger.
I took off the ring and placed it on the table, right next to Richard’s half-empty glass of wine.
“I’ve learned my lesson. Never let anyone dictate my life.”
I walked out of the penthouse.
The snow had stopped falling. The Chicago night sky was clear.
I was no longer Mrs. Sterling. I was Elena. I had a $20 million legitimate government reward (clean and without the need for a divorce settlement). I had my freedom. And most importantly, I had proven that:
Never corner a woman. Because when she has no way out, she won’t choose to surrender. She
He would choose to destroy the entire building.
I hailed a taxi.
“Where are you going, miss?”
“To the airport,” I said. “I have a trip to Paris that I’ve postponed for 10 years.”
The car sped away, leaving behind the magnificent but dilapidated tower. Richard had given me a choice. And I had chosen myself.
