The man had secretly transferred everything to his mistress. Little did he know, his wifean accountanthad spent the last decade preparing her own surprise for him.
*”Ive signed it all over. None of it belongs to us anymore.”*
Oliver tossed the words carelessly, the same way he used to throw his car keys onto the hallway table. He didnt even glance my way as he loosened his expensive tiethe one Id given him for our anniversary last year.
I froze, a plate in my hands. Not from shock. From something deeper, a quiet hum of anticipation, like the tremble of a taut string.
Ten years. Ten long years Id waited for this moment. Ten years Id spun my web, thread by thread, weaving my revenge into the heart of his business, stitching my retribution into every financial report.
*”What exactly do you mean, all of it, Oliver?”* My voice was steady, dangerously calm. I set the plate down gently. The porcelain clinked against the oak table.
He finally turned. Triumph flickered in his eyes, poorly masked, along with irritation at my icy composure. Hed expected tears. Screams. Curses. But I wouldnt give him that satisfaction.
*”The house. The business. Every account. Every asset, Emily,”* he said, savoring each word. *”Im starting fresh. A clean slate.”*
*”With Charlotte?”*
His face stiffened. He hadnt thought I knew. Men were so naïve. They truly believed a woman who balanced their million-pound companys books wouldnt notice the “client entertainment expenses”sums matching a top executives annual salary.
*”Thats none of your concern,”* he snapped. *”Ill leave you the car. And Ill cover a flat for a few months while you sort yourself out. Im not a monster.”*
He smiled, the smug grin of a predator certain it had cornered its prey.
I pulled out a chair and sat, folding my hands on the table. *”So fifteen years of our livesyou just handed it to another woman?”*
*”Its business, Emily. You wouldnt understand!”* His face mottled red. *”Its an investment in my future! My peace!”*
*His.* Not ours. Id been erased.
*”I understand perfectly,”* I said evenly. *”I am an accountant, remember? I know all about investments. Especially high-risk ones.”*
I watched him, feeling no pain, no anger. Only calculation, crystal-clear and precise.
He didnt know Id spent the last decade preparing my own surprise. From the moment I found the first text*”Waiting for you, kitten.”* I hadnt screamed. Id opened a new file on my work computer and named it *”Contingency.”*
*”Did you sign a deed of gift for your shares?”* My tone was professional, as if discussing quarterly bonuses.
*”What does it matter?”* he barked. *”Its over! Pack your things!”*
*”Just curious.”* I smiled faintly. *”Do you recall that additional clause we added to the articles in 2012? When we expanded.”*
The one prohibiting asset transfers without notarized consent from all shareholders?
Oliver stilled. His smirk faltered. He didnt remember. Of course not. He never read the papers I slid in front of him. *”Em, its all clear, yeah? Just hand it here.”*
Hed signed blindly, trusting my loyalty and precision. Rightly so. I *was* precise. To the last decimal.
*”Youre lying!”* He fumbled for his phone. *”Im calling Victor!”*
*”Go ahead,”* I shrugged. *”Victor Spencer notarized those amended articles. He keeps impeccable records.”*
Olivers face drained. He dialed. I caught fragments*”Victor, its Oliver Emily says 2012 amendment Transfer clause”*
He turned away, shoulders rigid. When he faced me again, fury and panic warred in his eyes.
*”Thisthis is illegal! Ill sue! The business was always mine!”*
*”Sue, then.”* I leaned back. *”But your deed is worthless. Attempted asset-stripping by a director, however? Thats fraud.”*
He collapsed into a chair. The fury evaporated, leaving only a trapped animal.
*”What do you want?”* he hissed. *”Money? Name your price!”*
*”I dont want your money. I want whats legally mine. My fifty percent. And you?”* I tilted my head. *”Youll have what you came to me with fifteen years ago. A suitcase. And debts.”*
*”I built that company!”*
*”You were the face,”* I corrected. *”I built it. Every invoice. Every tax return. While you worked at your meetings.”*
He lunged, knocking over the chair. *”Youll regret this!”*
*”Before you threaten me,”* I said softly, *”call Charlotte. Ask if shes received notice of the early loan recall.”*
He froze. *”What loan? I bought that house outright!”*
*”No.”* I smiled. *”You convinced me it was an investment. Horizon Ltd purchased it. Then sold it to Charlotte. She signed a loan agreement with *our* companysecured against the house.”*
*”You scheming bitch!”* He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me. *”You think youve won? Ill destroy you!”*
I met his eyes, unflinching. *”You already tried.”*
A knock at the door. Sharp. Official.
Two men in plain clothes stood there. *”Oliver Price? We need you to come with us.”*
He didnt resist. Just stared at me, hollow-eyed.
*”Why?”*
I watched them lead him away. The door closed. The silence was sweet.
Six months later, I sat in his old officenow mine. Horizon had collapsed after the fraud case. But Id moved my share into a new, clean company: *Prospect Holdings.*
Oliver got eight years.
Three years on, a letter arrived. Neat prison handwriting.
*”You always were smarter, Em,”* he wrote. *”I thought strength was in arrogance. Turns out its patience. Precision. You waited. Balanced the books.”*
I set it aside. Felt nothing.
I picked up my keys. Left earlybecause I could.
My accounts were settled. My life, finally, was mine.
