Witch of Stolen Fortune

Every witch awakened a gift when she came of age.

Mine was simple. I could siphon my husband's fortune.

On Christmas Eve, my husband spent 20,000,000 on a ring and proposed to his mistress as if he were buying a headline.

The trending page exploded. Everyone waited to see how quickly I would be thrown out. The pathetic wife was finally swept out the door.

When I stayed quiet, Jasper Prescott's tone turned playful, almost indulgent. "She's just a kid. She wanted the whole 'moment.' Your place isn't going anywhere."

Then he added, as if assigning me a chore, "She's young. She can't handle things. Pay more attention to the engagement party's details."

As though he feared I might cause trouble, he slid a black card across the table with casual ease.

"Babe, you know what I value most," he said. "You being sensible."

I pinched the cold card between my fingers, smiled, and nodded. No one knew the rule hidden inside our marriage.

After we married, every time Jasper betrayed me, I took a piece of his fortune, stripping it from him one point at a time and adding it to my own.

Once Christmas was over, I would take whatever he had left.

I came from a family of witches. When we came of age, every woman in our line awakened a gift.

I could siphon my husband's luck through marriage. The rule was simple. After we married, each time he betrayed me, the universe paid compensation. A portion of his fortune slipped away from him and into my hands.

Outside the window, bright fireworks filled the sky. They burst and stitched themselves into a name.

Kimberly Swan was his mistress.

When I did not explode the way people expected, Jasper Prescott grew even more entitled.

"Handle those trashy news articles," he said. "Kimmy's young. She can't read that kind of nasty stuff."

The way he said her name, Kimmy, was so soft and affectionate.

She had been at his side for three years. It was long enough for me to know what she liked.

I met his eyes. There was no guilt there.

I lowered my gaze and answered the way a "good wife" was supposed to. "Okay."

It took nearly everything I had to bury the scandal before midnight. By the time the clock struck twelve, the trending topics had been scrubbed clean and replaced with glossy congratulatory press, blessings, and applause.

[A century proposal, so romantic it hurts.]

My own social accounts, though, were a sewer.

[What is this? A wife who swallows this kind of humiliation?]

[For a little rich-family money, she has no dignity at all.]

I scrolled through the comments.

I felt nothing.

They were not wrong about one thing. I stayed because of money. More precisely, I stayed because my gift had limits. My fortune-siphoning gift only worked on my husband.

Across from me, Jasper carefully peeled shrimp and brought it to Kimberly's lips.

Kimberly tilted her head with a coy