But suspicion crept back almost instantly. "You didn't take out a loan, did you? Because I'm not paying that off with you."
"Relax. Not a single cent borrowed. My family scraped it together."
She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me hard.
"Honey, you're amazing!"
Just like that, I paid $30 million in full for the villa.
On the way home, we passed an imported car dealership. Summer dragged me inside.
"Honey, your Audi's so old. How about a Porsche? Since your family's so generous, why not ask for a little more?"
This woman was relentless. Bleeding me for a house wasn't enough—now she wanted a car.
Fine by me. The more eagerly she swallows, the harder she'll choke when it comes back up.
I dropped another $6 million on a Porsche.
The moment the keys hit my palm, her lips curled into a grin. So did mine.
After the house and car, she pushed for designer bags, watches, jewelry.
I refused everything.
First, that stuff would be a hassle to reclaim later. Second, I didn't want to overload the trap. The mine I'd buried was heavy enough already—I was worried she wouldn't survive the blast.
I didn't want our divorce dragging on because of loose ends.