My husband threw me off his private jet, kicked me from his company, but I held a secret trump card!

The True Nature of the Trial Period

The situation with Eric’s family soon became more oppressive. They treated me like a servant and demanded money for outings under the guise of needing cash for job hunting, a claim I suspected was untrue. Pointing this out would only lead to hours of blame being laid on me by the entire family.

Sharing my concerns with Eric didn’t resolve anything.

“Everyone’s feeling frustrated about not finding jobs, just bear with it a little longer. I’ll talk with them,”

He would say, trying to smooth things over. As time went by, I gradually lost hope that speaking up would change anything. Nonetheless, the incessant requests for money from Eric’s family slowly tapered off.

I suspect Eric might have finally talked to them because the issue seemed to subside on its own. Yet, the money I had provided earlier was predictably never returned. Three months into this ordeal, I stumbled upon a distressing discovery: our credit card bill was unusually high.

Worried about potential fraud, I checked the statement immediately and found that all the charges were made on family credit cards. These expenses span a variety of items: food, drinks, books, games, and even luxury brand items.

To my dismay, the statement showed that five different family credit cards were in use, all under my name. Eric had been the one managing these cards. He had persuaded me by saying it would be simpler for me to handle them and asked.

“Can I just leave this to you?”

Unbeknownst to me, extra cards had been issued without my consent. It became clear why Eric had ceased asking for cash; they had switched to using credit cards for their purchases and cash withdrawals.

When I confronted Eric about why he had issued family cards for his in-laws without my approval, he nonchalantly replied.

“Well, you complain when they say they’re broke,”

“So what else could I do? Plus, you know who supported you when you were alone, right? Can you speak like that to the important family of your benefactor?”

His bold and dismissive tone shocked me; it wasn’t like anything I’d heard from him before. He added.

“If you’re thankful, you should do more for my family.”

“Then I’ll accept you as part of the family, too.”

“Until then, think of it like you’re still on a trial period.”

I had never heard of a trial period in marriage before. Seeing my stunned silence, Eric pressed on.

“This means you’re not officially part of the family yet.”

“If you’re not okay with that, you’re free to leave any time.”

“Right now, it’s just the five of us in our family, unless freeloaders leave,”

He concluded. That moment crystallized Eric’s true nature for me, leaving me feeling as if all color had drained from my face.

I began to contemplate divorcing Eric and started to question why I had married him in the first place. Initially, I was drawn to him simply because he was physically attractive, like many other women. At first, I was just infatuated with his looks without any substantial reason.

Then, during one of my visits to the restaurant, Eric approached me as I was heading to the restroom and remarked.

“You seem different, Sandra, kind of mysterious. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that to a customer.”

I was taken aback but intrigued, and I began to pay more attention to him from then on. Maybe that was his strategy to make me like him. Looking back calmly, it all adds up.

I remember once a colleague jokingly said I was a wealthy lady living alone in a condo, and soon after that, Eric started showing more interest in me, possibly because he was intrigued by my wealth and living situation.

Honestly, Eric wasn’t exactly my type. To put it nicely, he was more modern. If I’m being blunt, he seemed a bit superficial. I preferred mature men who spoke softly and seriously, yet somehow I ended up falling for Eric.

He was a typical handsome guy who could easily charm a woman, especially someone like me who was new to the working world and not accustomed to such attention. Reflecting on all this now left me feeling frustrated and ashamed.

I felt an urge to lash out and break things around the house, a stark contrast to the controlled life I had strived to maintain. Resisting the urge to lash out, I instead decided to carefully plan my next moves to get even.

I knew I had to play the long game, managing the situation with as much cunning as Eric had employed in manipulating me. The condo we lived in, purchased on a mortgage by my father just after my birth, wasn’t expensive back then.

However, due to the rapid development in the area and a new shopping center nearby, it had become a sought-after luxury residence. My parents, hoping to expand our family, had chosen a large condo, which now provided ample space even with Eric’s family invading our home.

Their presence was a constant irritation, especially since I worked from home, but I bore it all for the sake of my plan for revenge. When I was four, both my parents tragically died in a car accident while returning from my paternal grandfather’s funeral.

They collided with a speeding car on the freeway that day. I was supposed to be with them but stayed home due to a high fever from the flu, making me the sole survivor of our immediate family.

The mortgage was covered by the group credit life insurance they had, which meant I only had to handle the management fees and property taxes for the condo. Eric suggested he could contribute just a bit more than the cost of those fees since there was no mortgage.

“If I pitch in that much, we should be able to manage with Sandra’s income, right?”

“We’ll each use our earnings for personal expenses. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

He had proposed. I agreed, thinking it might ease some of my financial burden at that time. I was still somewhat blinded by my feelings for Eric and went along with his suggestion.

It seemed Eric perceived himself as the head of the household, somewhat providing for me, while in reality, I was the one covering most of our living expenses, including utilities, groceries, and any social outings.

Now, with five extra dependents in the house, managing my income alone was becoming unsustainable. Yet, I feigned ignorance and bore the increasing strain, biding my time and watching as Eric’s family indulged in shopping sprees at my expense.

Reminding myself that I would have the last laugh. Six months into plotting my departure, I reached my breaking point and decided it was time to act.