**Diary Entry**
*10th May*
He thought hed outsmarted me. Rewritten everything in his mistresss name without me noticing. What he didnt realise was that Ihis wife, his accountanthad spent ten years preparing my own surprise for him.
*”Everythings been transferred. We own nothing now.”*
Edward tossed the words carelessly, the way he used to toss his car keys onto the hall table. He didnt even glance my way as he tugged at his expensive tiea gift from me for our last anniversary.
I froze, plate in hand. Not from shock. From something elsean eerie anticipation, like the hum of a taut string.
Ten years. Ten long years Id waited for this moment. Ten years spinning my web in the heart of his business, weaving threads of revenge into every financial report.
*”Define ‘everything,’ Edward,”* I said, voice steady, betraying nothing. I set the plate down gently. Porcelain met oak with a quiet chime.
He finally turned. Triumph flickered in his eyes, poorly masked irritation at my calm. Hed expected tears, hysterics, curses. I wouldnt give him the satisfaction.
*”The house. The business. All the accounts. Every asset, Anne,”* he said, savouring the words. *”Im starting fresh. A clean slate.”*
*”With Katie?”*
His face stiffened. He hadnt thought I knew. Men are so naïve. They really believe the woman who balances their multimillion-pound companys books wont notice “business expenses” matching a CEOs annual salary.
*”Thats none of your concern,”* he snapped. *”Ill leave you the car. Rent a flat for a few months while you sort yourself out. Im not a monster.”*
He smiled, the smug grin of a predator certain hed cornered his prey.
I pulled out a chair and sat, folding my hands on the table. *”So fifteen years of our life, and you just handed it to another woman?”*
*”Thats business, Anne. You wouldnt understand!”* His face flushed. *”This is an investment in my future! My peace!”*
*His* future. Not ours. Id been erased so easily.
*”Oh, I understand,”* I nodded. *”Im an accountant, remember? I know all about investments. Especially high-risk ones.”*
I watched him, feeling no pain, no hurt. Just cold, crystalline calculation.
He didnt know Id spent a decade preparing. From the moment I first found texts in his phone*”Waiting for you, kitten.”* I hadnt screamed. Id just opened a new file on my work computer and named it *”Contingency Fund.”*
*”You signed the deeds for your share of the company?”* I asked, tone businesslike, as if discussing quarterly bonuses.
*”What does it matter?”* he barked. *”Its over! Pack your things!”*
*”Just curious,”* I said, smiling faintly. *”Remember that clause we added to the articles back in 2012? The one about transferring assets without notarised consent from all shareholders?”*
Edward stilled. His smirk faltered. He didnt remember. Of course he didnt. Hed never read the paperwork I handed him. *”Anne, its fine, just give it here”*
Hed signed everything, trusting my loyalty, my precision. And hed been right. I was precise. Down to the last full stop.
*”Youre lying!”* He fumbled for his phone. *”Im calling Victor!”*
*”Go ahead,”* I shrugged. *”Victor Simmons notarised those amendments. He keeps impeccable records.”*
His face drained of colour as he dialled. I caught fragments*”Victor, its Edward Anne says Clause in the 2012 articles”*
When he turned back, his rage was laced with panic.
*”What do you want?”* he hissed. *”Money? Name your price!”*
*”I dont want your money,”* I said. *”I want whats legally mine. My fifty percent. And you? Youll leave with what you brought into this marriagea suitcase and a mountain of debt.”*
*”You wont take my company!”*
*”You were the face of it,”* I corrected. *”I built it. Every invoice, every contract, every tax return. While you were busy with your ‘meetings.'”*
He lunged, knocking over his chair. *”Youll regret this, Anne!”*
*”Before you destroy me,”* I said softly, *”call Katie. Ask if shes received the foreclosure notice.”*
He froze.
*”What foreclosure?”*
*”You didnt buy her that house. The company did. And now the companys calling in the loan.”*
His face twisted. He dialled, voice shifting from command to pleading. The receiver screamed.
*”You scheming bitch!”* he spat, grabbing my shoulders. *”Fifteen years wasted on you! You couldnt even give me a child”*
Something inside me snapped.
*”Let go,”* I said, voice hollow.
He recoiled.
I walked to my desk, pulled out a slim grey folder. *”You thought our business was just Horizon Ltd? You thought I didnt know about your offshore accounts? The bribes?”*
His face turned ashen. *”You you cant prove anything.”*
*”I can.”* I opened the folder. *”Bank statements. Recorded conversations. Every transfer.”*
I placed a USB drive on the table. *”An hour ago, I sent everything to the National Crime Agency. Anonymously.”*
The doorbell rangsharp, insistent. Official.
Two men in plain clothes stood at the door. *”Edward Holloway? We need you to come with us.”*
He didnt resist. Just stared at me, hollow-eyed, as they led him away.
*”Why?”* his look asked.
I met his gaze and saw a strangerone whod thought he could ruin my life. I hadnt let him.
The door closed. The house was mine.
No triumph. Just relief.
—
*Six Months Later*
I sat in his old officenow minecontracts spread before me. After the scandal, Horizon Ltd collapsed. But not before Id moved my share into a new company: *Prospect Holdings.*
Edward got eight years. Hed turned on his associates, bargaining for leniency.
Katie vanished the day the house was repossessed.
I didnt seek a new fate. I reclaimed the one Id builtline by line, figure by figure.
Hed thought I was a background player. But Id written the script.
—
*Three Years Later*
A letter arrivedcrooked handwriting, prison postmark.
Edwards words were neither apology nor threat. Just musings. Sewing in the workshop. Missing real food.
*”You were always smarter, Anne,”* he wrote. *”I thought strength was in bold moves. Yours was in patience. You waitedlike a good accountant balancing the books. Only I still dont know when I became a loss.”*
I set it aside. No satisfaction. No guilt.
Just another line in the ledger.
*Written off.*
I picked up my car keys. For the first time in years, I left work early. Because I could.
Because my balance was settled.
And under *”profit”*there was my life.
All mine.
