My Husband Never Comes Home, But He Gives Me a $100,000 Monthly Allowance No kids to raise, no in-laws to serve. My life couldn't be any more perfect! I had just made plans with my best friend to hit the club and hang out with some hot male models. I was about to walk out the door when my housekeeper rushed over. "Bad news, Madam! Mr. Vance is bringing his mistress home!" I beamed with joy. "Clean up the guest room and make sure she gets five-star service." The housekeeper was utterly shocked. "But Madam, she’s a homewrecker!" I immediately corrected her, sternly fixing her negative attitude: "What do you mean, homewrecker? That is the new Madam of the house." Housekeeper: ? Arthur Vance: ? 1 In this day and age, a husband like Arthur Vance—who only gives you money and never comes home—is a rare treasure. As long as that $100,000 monthly allowance hits my bank account on time, I don't have to miss him at all. Why would I? Are the energetic, twenty-something male models at the club not handsome enough? Or is their stamina lacking? They are absolutely exhilarating, okay! "Martha, I’m heading out. Make sure you take good care of his new lady." Martha froze. "Madam, where are you going?" To clear the runway for them, obviously! I couldn't just stay home and be a third wheel. I grabbed my new Chanel bag and turned to leave, waving dismissively over my shoulder. It wasn't that I didn't want to play the good hostess. I was just worried about being an eyesore to his VIP guest. It was definitely not because my best friend had already booked ten hot guys, and I was in a rush to ditch Arthur’s incoming mistress. I sneaked a peek at the bewildered housekeeper and quickened my pace, practically skipping toward the luxury van waiting at the door. Here I come, my sweet boys! The moment I pushed open the private room doors and saw the gorgeous guys waiting, my mood skyrocketed. My best friend, Serena, nudged a particularly handsome guy toward me, looking a bit confused. "Lia, didn't you say your husband was coming home today? You still dared to come out?" I absentmindedly traced the abs of the guy sitting next to me. "Duh, why wouldn't I? He brought his little mistress home. It would be totally clueless of me to stick around and ruin their vibe." Oh wow, these abs feel amazing. Besides, my husband was nowhere near as fun as these boys. As the party bus rolled out, the sweet, clear voice of the guy next to me echoed in my ear. "You have such a refreshing outlook on life. Your wine has breathed perfectly—care for a glass?" I happily scratched him under the chin like a puppy, took the red wine from his hand, and downed it in one gulp. "You boys are so sweet. Not like older men, who are just stubborn and cold all over." A few more glasses went down the hatch. I drank a bit too fast, and the cool breeze blowing in through the car window hit me hard. It left me dizzy and tipsy, resting my head on the guy's lap. Everything felt as blissful as floating on a cloud. I was completely immersed in the moment when my phone rang, violently dragging me back to reality. I pouted. What a buzzkill. But I answered it anyway. A familiar, deep male voice came through the speaker. "Lia Vance, where are you right now?" Because of the alcohol, my brain was foggy, and I hadn't checked the caller ID. I answered with arrogant confidence, completely failing to recognize the voice. "Who's asking? I'm busy having a great time." Dead silence on the other end. I was just about to curse out the psycho and hang up when three words were squeezed through gritted teeth on the other end. "Your. Husband." Crap. It’s Arthur! The word "husband" was like a bucket of ice water splashing over me. I sobered up instantly. I let out an awkward laugh. "Oh, honey! Why are you still awake so late?" I glanced at the time and clicked my tongue. Was the mistress bad in bed, or was Arthur just lacking stamina? It was only 11 PM, and they were already done? "Where did you go?" I was just about to make up a random excuse when I heard a female voice in the background on his end. It was soft, delicate, and practically dripping with neediness. "Mr. Vance, can we start now?" "Alright, I'll be right there." Arthur’s microphone sounded like it was being covered. The voices were muffled, like there was some grand secret he didn't want me to hear. But I had zero interest in hearing it. I might be open-minded, but I wasn't open-minded enough to listen to my husband groan and moan with another woman. "Oh, you haven't even started yet! Don't worry, honey, I'm staying at a hotel tonight. I won't interrupt you guys!" Before he could reply, I hung up. Serena turned to look at me. "What's wrong? Your husband calling to check up on you?" I put my phone down, gave the male model's lean waist a squeeze, and replied casually. "No, he just called to tell me not to come home and interrupt them. Ignore him, let's keep partying." The next day, I deliberately waited until late afternoon to go home. I was terrified of getting back too early and ruining their morning-after cuddles. The moment I walked through the door, the house felt freezing. I was about to call for Martha when I looked up. My husband, Arthur, was sitting on the sofa. His face was dark, and his eyes were cold enough to freeze a person solid. "You finally decided to come back?" 2 I suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. Crap. The mistress must not have pleased him, and now he's taking it out on the original wife! Even though I was rolling my eyes internally, I had to keep up appearances. Flashing a standard eight-tooth smile, I walked over and sat down obediently beside him. "What's wrong, honey?" Arthur’s hand rested on his leg, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat as he looked at me lazily. "What, you were hoping I wouldn't be here?" I immediately leaned into him, giggling as I hugged his arm and acted cute. "Of course not! I wish you could come home and keep me company more often. It gets so lonely being in this big house all by myself." You can come home, but please don't come home without a warning! I cursed him out in my head while maintaining a bright, cheerful smile on my face. "You must have worked so hard last night, honey. I'll have Martha make you a special restorative soup tonight to build your strength back up." I played the ultimate kiss-ass, massaging his shoulders and squeezing his arms, taking the opportunity to check for lipstick marks or hickeys under his collar. If there weren't any, fine. If there were, I’d just pretend I was blind. He paid me way too much allowance to complain. A person should always be content with what they have. I had to maintain my mindset as "America's Best Wife." "Go get ready. You're coming with me to the family estate for dinner tonight." I slapped my forehead. I had partied so hard last night that I completely forgot—today was the day we were supposed to visit Grandma Vance at the family estate. Grandma treated me incredibly well. Back when Arthur was choosing a wife from a sea of candidates, she was the one who took one look at me and chose me. If it weren't for her, I'd still be an ordinary girl working a 9-to-5, miles away from this luxurious, worry-free life. Even though Arthur and I didn't have any real romantic feelings, I always treated Grandma Vance like my own flesh and blood. When I came out of the dressing room, I saw Arthur leaning against the doorframe. His long, slender fingers were idly playing with a small, white velvet box. He glanced up at me. "Give me your hand." I had no idea what he was doing, but I obeyed. I definitely couldn't afford to anger my primary investor. Suddenly, I felt something cold slide onto my wrist. I looked down. A breathtakingly intricate, diamond-studded bracelet had just been fastened onto my arm. One look and I knew this cost a fortune. "A corporate partner gifted it. Don't overthink it," he said. Before I could even process it, he turned and walked out of the walk-in closet. I chased after him, throwing out compliments like they were free. "Oh my gosh, honey, you're the best! I love you so much!" Arthur didn't even look at me. "Act normal." I rubbed the bracelet, pondering his true motive. Was this man feeling guilty about keeping a mistress on the side, so he bought me jewelry as compensation? If that was the case, he should go find a few more! I wouldn't mind an entire closet filled with priceless jewelry. Thinking of this, my smile grew even wider. Arthur turned his head impatiently. Seeing that I still hadn't gotten into the car, he rushed me. "Are you coming or not?" I quickly hopped in and sat next to him. The ride was silent, but at least the oppressive, icy aura from this morning had vanished. The estate wasn't far from our house. As soon as the car parked, I reached for the door handle. Before I could open it, Arthur grabbed my wrist. "Tone it down tonight. Grandma is getting older; her heart can't take your nonsense." He had a valid reason for the warning. Last time, I brought Grandma a steamy mafia romance novel. The butler ended up catching her hiding under her blankets at 2 AM, trying to read it. She was farsighted, so she had her phone flashlight in one hand and the book held as far away as possible in the other, squinting her eyes and struggling to read the smut. "Honey, why would you think so poorly of me? I'm always on my best behavior." I gave him a shy, exaggerated flutter of my eyelashes. Arthur turned his head away, acting like looking at me was physically painful. "Let's hope so." I rolled my eyes. Yeah, sure, only your little mistress is allowed to act cute. I turned and sprinted toward the mansion. "Grandma! I'm here!" "Oh, Lia, you finally made it! It's been so long since you came to chat with this old lady." I hugged Grandma's arm and whined affectionately. "I'm here now, aren't I?" Grandma couldn't wait. She dragged me toward the sofa. "Hurry, finish the story! What happened after the billionaire fell in love with the mute girl?" Arthur trailed behind us, looking exhausted, glaring at me periodically. "Grandma, those books rot your brain. You should read less of them." Grandma was instantly unhappy. She turned and gave Arthur a deadpan stare. "What, you expect me to go study for the SATs at my age?" I hid behind Grandma, feeling entirely justified. These were my bedtime stories! I read them every night. How dare he insult my literature? Arthur looked like he was suffering from chronic constipation as he watched me stick my tongue out at him from behind Grandma's back. Knowing when to quit, I pulled out the new book I had prepared from my bag. "Grandma, I brought you a new one today. It's called The Billionaire's Fierce Love." 3 The very next second, Arthur physically hoisted me out of the room. "Lia Vance, if you show Grandma one more of those trashy books, I'm going to show you what a billionaire's 'fierce love' actually feels like!" He enunciated the word fierce with a heavy, threatening grit. Grandma's worried voice drifted out from the living room. "Lia? Arthur isn't bullying you, is he?" Arthur looked back, then turned to me with gritted teeth. "If you say the wrong thing, your allowance gets cut in half." I instantly surrendered. Who could argue with that? He had a direct grip on my financial lifeline! I cleared my throat and called back into the room with a bright smile. "Of course not, Grandma! My husband treats me the absolute best!" Arthur set me down, shot me one last warning glare, and turned back toward the dining room. During dinner, Grandma kept glancing back and forth between Arthur and me. "Grandma, if you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to be too embarrassed to eat. What is it?" Grandma set down her silverware, sighed deeply, and finally spoke. "I was just thinking about Mrs. Sterling's granddaughter next door." "She is just the cutest little thing. She always calls me 'Grandma Vance' with that sweet little voice, and she's so soft to hold..." Arthur and I instantly realized what was happening. The old lady wanted great-grandkids. I tugged at Arthur's sleeve, silently asking him what to do. He set down his fork and grabbed my hand. "Lia is still young. Having kids this early isn't good for her health. Give it a few years, and Lia said she'll give you twins to keep you company." I stared at him in horror, mouthing the words: When did I ever say I was having twins?! Arthur glared at me sideways. His grip on my hand tightened, squeezing until it hurt. "That's what you get for not coming home last night." I fought to control my pain-contorted face and yanked my hand back. I thought we were past that! I gave him and his mistress the house to themselves, and he was punishing me for it? This man was incredibly petty. Grandma beamed, her smile stretching from ear to ear. "Good, good, good! Grandma will make sure to live a few extra years just to wait for Lia's twins!" On the drive back, I gave Arthur the silent treatment. As soon as we reached our driveway, I went to open the door, only to find the child locks engaged. I spun around and glared at Arthur. "Unlock the door!" Arthur stared back calmly, his dark, bottomless eyes revealing absolutely nothing. "What are you so angry about?" I was fuming, and the truth slipped right out. "You told Grandma I was going to have twins! We might not even survive to see next year without getting a divorce, and you're promising her kids? If you want twins so badly, go ask your mistress to have them for you!" "Lia!" Arthur suppressed his rage, pinning me back against the leather seat. The air pressure in the car instantly dropped to freezing. I cowardly shrank back, too afraid to make a sound. "Unless I say the word 'divorce,' don't even dream of running away for the rest of your life." Click. The doors unlocked. Arthur stepped out and slammed the door behind him. I bit my lip hard, forcing back the tears stinging my eyes. That bastard actually dared to yell at me! I got out and stormed into the house. I slammed my bedroom door shut, not even sparing him a glance. Lying in bed that night, I remembered his threat about cutting my allowance. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, until I suddenly sat up in bed like a zombie. "He's a psycho!" 4 Suddenly, a notification chimed on my phone. "Chase Bank: $100,000 deposited." Okay, fine. I was the psycho. Seeing that beautiful string of zeros in my balance, I lay back down in complete peace. Arthur sent a text: I was too harsh today. I'm leaving on a business trip tomorrow. One week. My bad mood was instantly cured. Shopping in the morning, booking models at the club at night. Life was bliss. But as it turns out, karma comes for the arrogant. Because I partied way too hard that week, I caught a nasty fever. "Lia, come out to play! They just brought in a fresh batch of gorgeous guys." I croaked into the phone, sounding exactly like a dying duck. "I'm out. I'm currently boiling alive." "Want me to send a hot guy over to take care of you?" You could tell Serena truly understood me. But she didn't understand my husband. "Don't. I'm just sick, I don't have a death wish yet." I might be wild, but I didn't have the guts to bring a random man into Arthur's house. I didn't even know when Serena hung up. I drifted in and out of a hazy, feverish sleep for hours. Until I felt a hand touch my forehead. "Why are you burning up?" I assumed it was the hot guy Serena insisted on sending over, so I didn't even open my eyes. I was afraid that if he was too handsome, I wouldn't have the heart to kick him out. "Handsome, I know you're hot, but today really isn't your lucky payday. If you don't leave right now, I won't be the only one dying in this house." "Wait till I'm better, and I'll come find you. Be a good boy." I murmured, weakly trying to push his hand away. "Lia Vance. Are you keeping men behind my back?" That chilling, icy voice was way too familiar. It scared me so much I shot straight up in bed. "Husband?!" My face was flushed as red as a tomato from the fever. He sighed, asking coldly, "Did you take your medicine?" I nodded obediently. I was so terrified my fever practically broke on the spot. "Rest for now. When you're better, you have a lot of explaining to do." Great. My death sentence was just reduced to probation. When I opened my eyes the next morning, I saw Arthur walking out of my en-suite bathroom. Water dripped down his broad chest, tracing the lines of his perfect eight-pack abs. I had to admit, Arthur’s physique put the club models to shame. Paired with that ridiculously handsome face, he was a walking fantasy. "Wipe your nosebleed." I frantically wiped my nose, only to find nothing there. It took me a full second to realize he was messing with me. "Honey, why are you in here?" I twisted my fingers together, asking guiltily. Don't panic. Play dumb. Maybe he forgot about last night. He walked straight over, planted his hands on either side of my pillow, and caged me against the bed. He was so close I could smell the clean scent of his body wash. His hair wasn't fully dry. A cold drop of water fell onto my collarbone, sending a shiver through me. He gently wiped the drop away with his thumb. This damn man. Why is he making my mind go to the gutter first thing in the morning? "What, didn't you scream yesterday about wanting to go out and find handsome guys once you recovered? I just wanted to see what kind of men my sweet wife prefers." I chewed on his words. Was it just me, or did he sound jealous? 5 Was it my imagination? I threw my arms around his neck and put on the performance of a lifetime. Though, this time, it was laced with a little bit of genuine honesty. "Those guys outside aren't half as handsome as my husband! When I have a gorgeous, fit, rich husband waiting at home, only an idiot would go out looking for someone else." "Right?" I let out an awkward chuckle. I was ruthless—I even insulted myself to survive. "That better be the case." With that, he stood up and turned his back to me to put on his shirt. Behind his back, I silently flipped him the bird. Men are such hypocrites. They expect their wives to be perfectly faithful at home while they wave their colorful flags with mistresses on the outside. "Get up and get ready. You're coming with me to a gala tonight." "Huh? Can I skip it?" Arthur rarely attended galas, but whenever he did, he dragged me along. His endless stream of persistent female admirers was exhausting to deal with. I highly suspected he only brought me along as revenge for spending all his money on designer bags. "Sure. No allowance next month." My tragic expression vanished instantly. I smiled brighter than a sunflower and hopped out of bed. "Honey, do you think I should wear the pink dress or the white one today?" Bowing for the sake of cash is never shameful. "The pink one." "You got it, boss!" As soon as we stepped into the gala hall, I could feel someone staring daggers at me. Whenever I get that feeling, trouble is guaranteed to follow. Just as I was trying to figure out how to avoid said trouble, someone approached Arthur. "Mr. Vance, it's been a while." He was already talking business the moment we walked in. Arthur was just too much of a workaholic. I hated these events. I gave Arthur a look and slipped away. As I left, he warned me, "Don't wander too far. We're leaving soon." I didn't have much of an appetite from my fever, but walking around actually made me a little hungry. Just as I picked up a slice of cake, trouble found me. "You're already that chubby, and you're still eating?" It was Fiona Sterling, one of Arthur’s eternal, desperate fangirls. "I seriously don't know what Arthur sees in you. You are completely unworthy of him." I absolutely despise people who lack brain cells but have an abundance of audacity. I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Yeah, you're right, I'm unworthy. Not like you. You're so worthy you could probably pair up with a stray dog." "Lia Vance!" I looked at her innocently. "Why is the dog barking?" "Do you have zero class?!" "My class is variable. It depends entirely on who I'm talking to." "You...!" Fiona was a sheltered socialite. There was no way she could win a verbal sparring match against a natural talent like me. In a fit of rage, she grabbed a glass of red wine, fully intending to throw it in my face. Thankfully, my reflexes were sharp. I ducked just in time. The entire glass of wine splashed onto the person standing directly behind me. The girl screamed in horror. "Ah! What the hell?!" The scream drew a lot of attention. I covered my mouth and looked at Fiona with wide, innocent eyes. "Fiona, if you wanted to throw wine at me, you should have just done it! Why did you involve an innocent bystander?" "I... I didn't mean to! I was aiming for—" The girl who got splashed was wearing a stunning, form-fitting white gown. The red wine stain was glaringly obvious. "This dress was an anniversary gift from my husband! Now it's ruined! You better give me a damn good explanation for this." Hearing the commotion, Arthur walked over. "Arthur, this woman insulted me! You have to defend me!" Fiona pinched her voice to sound whiny and pathetic, reaching out to grab Arthur's arm. I beat her to it. I latched onto his arm and intertwined our fingers. "Honey~!"
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