From Darius, who hadn’t offered to chip in for groceries even once in their five years of marriage.
Kiana finished her soup in complete silence.
Everything inside her went cold, but her face remained perfectly calm.
That was her greatest talent—never showing what was happening inside her mind.
Money, she thought clearly. So it’s about the money.
She really did have a significant amount in her account—over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
It was an inheritance from her grandmother Ruby, the only person who had ever truly loved Kiana without conditions or expectations.
Her grandmother had passed away two years ago, leaving her a small condo and her life savings.
Kiana sold the condo, added the money to her own savings account, and decided to set it aside carefully—for the kitchen renovation she’d dreamed about for years, maybe a real vacation, or just a solid rainy-day fund.
Darius knew about the inheritance.
Two years ago, he’d even tried to suggest she invest the money in some friend’s business venture—something vague about cryptocurrency or real estate flipping.
Kiana had refused, gently but firmly.
Since then, the topic of money hadn’t come up between them—until this week.
On Saturday, Darius started taking an unusual interest in her purse.
At first it was subtle, little things like, “Your phone wasn’t ringing, was it? I thought I heard something.”
Then he rummaged around “looking for a charger,” claiming his charging cord was broken and he couldn’t find a replacement.
Kiana watched from the doorway as he quickly glanced at her wallet lying on the bedroom dresser.
On Sunday, he suggested they open a joint bank account.
“It’s easier that way,” he argued, his voice taking on that persuasive tone. “We can save together, spend together. We’re family, Kiki.”
Kiana stood at the bedroom mirror braiding her hair and looked at his reflection in the glass.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking sweet and caring—and lying.
Lying so badly it was almost awkward to watch.
“I’m fine with my own account,” she replied calmly. “I’m used to managing it myself.”
He frowned, his expression darkening.
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