Wife on Strike! Beg Harder, Mr. Billionaire!

ad a very important mission to accomplish. I was determined to prove to

riend at midnight to beg for emergency cooking advice, I was completely convinced that breakfast would be my secret weapon. I crept out

al estate developments and negotiated complex corporate acquisitions every sing

egan melting away withi

ur before discovering it hiding behind the imported olive oil. Then, while trying to measure the milk, I accidentally poured double the amount required

egg with one hand. Unfortunately, the shell shattere

spoon, my phone buzzed on the counter. It was Oliver,

mid-morning investor conference. Is that background nois

atter of batter. "And if you ever breathe a single word of this phone call to anyon

ke he was biting his cheek to stop himself fro

hiss. Within seconds, the edges turned pitch black while the center remained raw and gooey. When I

ound the kitchen like a thick fog. A second later, the overh

frantically at the smoke detector while tryin

g her soft pajamas and rubbing her eyes, but the moment she took in the scene of me standing in a ruined apron, cov

burst out

ntrollable burst of laughter that forced her to hold

spatula like a weapon,

ulinary genius is rarely ap

ooked at the disaster area. "Were you trying to make breakfast,

untary smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Seeing her laugh like th

ing smoke alarm, and walked over to inspect my creation

this at a wall, it might

"That one required sign

r, her movements familiar and easy. She even bravely picked up the single panc

sked, holdi

raight face. "One point for effort, and one point f

a little closer. "I think my pres

e flour dusting her left cheek. Without really thinking,

kitchen, away from the smoke and the burnt food, the air between us grew heavy with that unde

I whispered, my vo

uilt around herself. For a second, I thought she might lean in. I shifted forward, my he

ly stepped back,

t erase three years, Nathani

or clicked open, and a sharp, famil

y grandson was trying to cook, and frankly,

he bridge of my nose. "What are you

g Sophie a warm, affectionate smile. "Hello, my dear. I hear you've pu

oroughly amused as my gran

king demonstration, but I can offer y

ife back, the mood in the kitchen shifted from comical to deeply serious. My grandmother didn't coddle me. She

loneliness of our marriage, a cold realization settled deep in my chest. This wasn't just a sudden temper tantr

mahogany desk, staring at my phone screen, watching the countdown timer for the ninety-day strike. T

study door pushed open, and my grandmother s

aid, looking up. "

r sharp eyes stud

to know about Sophie. Something she to

d, a sudden knot tig

ighed softly, cr

consider her family if she stopped being your wife, an

in my chair, staring at my grandmother, completely s

hie announced her strike, I