When A Deceitful Husband And Parasitic Mother In Law Face Total Ruin After The Millionaire Wife Buys Their Dream Mansion Across The Street Without Warning
Chapter 2
The soft chime of Colby’s smartphone notification pierced the freezing air of the living room like a gunshot. Colby blinked lazily against the sudden flash of light, his fingers sliding across his screen to open the urgent priority email from the corporate accounting department. His smug, arrogant expression dissolved in a single microsecond, replaced by a mask of sheer, unadulterated terror as his eyes scanned the blinking red text. "Frozen? What the hell do you mean, frozen?!" Colby choked out, his voice cracking into a ragged, frantic octave as he bolted upright from his leather recliner.
Patrice dropped her crystal bowl of grapes onto the mahogany coffee table, the green fruits scattering wildly across the polished wood surface as panic seized her chest. "Stop joking around, Colby, tell me your mother didn't just lock our joint accounts," Patrice hissed, her voice trembling with sudden, clawing desperation. Colby didn't answer her; he was frantically swiping through his banking apps, watching in mounting horror as every single credit card, investment portfolio, and liquid asset flashed a cold, unforgiving error code. Every single cent—including the hundreds of thousands he had systematically siphoned from Jenna’s medical supply firm to cover Patrice’s debts—had vanished behind an impenetrable legal wall.
Across the foyer, the heavy front door clicked open just an inch, and I stood there holding Finn’s tiny hand while my mother rested comfortably on the plush velvet bench behind us. My eyes locked onto Colby’s pale, sweat-slicked face through the open doorway, my gaze as cold and dead as a winter grave. "Did you enjoy your little preview of financial ruin, darling?" I asked, my voice carrying a sweet, poisonous melody that made Colby stagger backward. Before he could stammer a single syllable of defense, my private security detail stepped into the hallway, their crisp charcoal suits and earpieces radiating absolute, unyielding authority.
"The sixty-minute countdown is ticking down very quickly, Mr. Hale," the lead security operative announced smoothly, checking his sleek titanium wristwatch with clinical precision. "You have exactly forty-two minutes remaining to vacate these premises before our extraction team begins packing your belongings into black garbage bags." Patrice let out a shrieking, bird-like squawk of pure outrage, hauling her bulky frame off the velvet sectional with ungraceful speed. "You can't do this to us! I am the matriarch of this household!" Patrice shrieked, pointing a manicured, trembling finger straight at my face.
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I didn't blink, nor did I flinch away from her venomous glare as I stepped fully into the foyer, my designer heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. "You were a guest in my house who chose to abuse an elderly woman and torture my child for your own sick amusement," I replied calmly, my tone cutting through her hysteria like a razor. Colby lunged forward toward the doorway, his eyes wild and desperate, reaching out with shaking hands as if he could somehow bargain his way out of the abyss. "Jenna, please, let's talk about this like adults; we have a marriage, we have a life, we can fix this!" Colby begged, his voice cracking into a pathetic whine.
"Our marriage ended the moment you decided my mother’s life was worth less than your mother’s comfort and your mistress’s shopping sprees," I stated flatly, turning my back on him. I knelt down to look into Finn’s bright, innocent eyes, brushing a soft curl from his forehead with a tender smile. "Come on, sweetie, let's go check out our brand-new home across the street," I whispered, taking his small hand in mine. Behind us, Patrice and Colby stood paralyzed in the center of the devastated living room, finally realizing that their gravy train had permanently derailed and crashed into a brick wall.
