ain, and his entire parasitic family. After I saved them from financial ruin with a $5 million ch
husband announced his ex-gi
or. My new ticket? A commercial flight with a layover in a w
d there, invisible. His sister even whispered to
silk nightgown. When I went for her, my husband t
e motorcade. I smiled. "Of course." Then I walked into my office and made a call. "Yes, I have a large qua
pte
small window in his demanding military career. I decided we needed a rea
ed ever
income tops half a million dollars. His is eight tho
o cruise the Mediterranean, reservations at restaurants with years-long waiting li
rd outsiders. Getting the right permits for our entou
't lift a finger. They j
d his wife Beverley, lived in the guest wing
ue university. I'd been paying her exorbitant tuition and funding he
bustling family life I'd always wanted. My practice was thriving, with
omment. "I've never been in a proper armored m
was a ghost fro
al savings. I upgraded the entire travel package, arranging for a fully secured, multi-vehicle motorcade for al
gs were packed, lined up in the grand foyer. My bags
husband s
news. Dahlia
ked at him, trying to process the
ha
coming on the trip. I'
private jet only had a certain number of
isn't enough ro
at me. He was scroll
I took ca
d on my phone. It wa
ercial
passen
currently under a Level 4 "Do Not Travel" advisory from
tinerary, then ba
seat on the priva
from his phone, his
. We couldn't just tel
ng coiled in my gut.
e to fly commercial, alone, through a war zone, so you
w, Beverley, who was listen
onnor told me it was 'family time' and there wasn't room for her in thi