Chapter 1

Before our marriage, my wife was the kind of woman everyone envied.

She was strikingly beautiful and had graduated from a top university.

Young as she was, she had already made a name for herself in finance, with a brilliant career ahead of her.

I hated women like her: independent, proud, sharp-edged, decisive, and strong-willed.

She was the dazzling center of attention wherever she went.

So I set about systematically grinding away every last edge she had.

After the wedding, I used "taking care of the family" as an excuse to pressure her into leaving a key position in a fast-rising career.

I took control of her bank accounts and tamed her into a docile cat that only knew how to say yes.

Then I deliberately crushed her confidence, vetoing every decision she made, nitpicking even the smallest daily tasks.

I belittled her abilities in front of others and dismissed everything she contributed.

Over and over, I wore down her willpower and pride until she had given up every piece of herself.

I even made her the CFO of my company and dumped documents on her to sign, ensuring she would be the one to take the fall.

I thought I could never lose.

Until federal agents knocked on my office door and slapped a stack of evidence on my desk.

"Mr. Tyler Hayes, you'll need to come with us."

I frowned, flipped through the evidence, and froze.

No wonder she had become so obedient. Looking back, the signs had been there all along.

Chapter 1

"You're back? You're late tonight."

Her voice was soft as she reached out to take my suit jacket.

I sidestepped her hand and tossed the jacket onto the couch.

"Busy day at the office." I loosened my tie.

I walked over to the dining table and sat down. All my favorite dishes were laid out, still at the perfect temperature.

I picked up my spoon, tasted the seafood chowder, and immediately frowned.

"Too salty. What the hell is this?" I dropped the spoon onto the table with a clatter.

She tensed up instantly, standing by the table, not knowing what to do with her hands.

"Tyler, I'm sorry... I'll remake it right now."

Her eyes were filled with panic, like a schoolgirl caught doing something wrong.

A fierce sense of satisfaction filled me, but I kept scolding her.

"Forget it, it's drinkable! Just pay attention next time. You can't even handle something this simple. What am I keeping you around for?"

She nodded quickly and sat across from me.

She ate in tiny, timid bites, not daring to say another word.

I watched her and liked what I saw.

Three years ago, when I first met her, she was nothing like this.

Back then, she was an auditor. She wore a perfectly tailored suit and stilettos when she came to discuss a business partnership.

Her eyes were bright as stars then, and she spoke with crisp, clear logic.

Even when I threw deliberately difficult questions at her, she answered every one without missing a beat, poised and self-assured.

That was when I first thought it: a woman that sharp, that proud...

If I could keep her at home, grind away every edge she had, and make me the center of her world, that would be interesting.

Winning her over didn't take much effort.

I had just started my business then, with some seed money and a decent car.

I was generous, and with a few carefully rehearsed sweet lines, she quickly fell for me.

She had been raised in a strict family, had barely dated, and was trusting by nature.

She took everything I said at face value, convinced I was the man she could spend her life with.

I was the one who proposed.

The day I got down on one knee, I held her hand and said,

"Elena, quit your job and let me take care of you! Corporate life is brutal. Stay home, keep the house nice, spend time with me. It's better than dealing with difficult clients all day.

"All the money will be yours to manage. Just relax and enjoy life."

She cried happy tears and nodded yes.

Looking back now, she was laughably naive.

Once a woman has her own career and independent income, she's impossible to control.

Cut off her financial lifeline, make her completely dependent on me, and she'll be obedient forever, never daring to leave.

Chapter 2

The first year of marriage was my golden window for taming her.

I took away her bank cards and put her on a fixed allowance of $360 a month.

Groceries, household supplies, anything she wanted for herself. It all came out of that.

At first, she wasn't used to it. She said she wanted to replace her usual skincare products.

They cost about $200, so she asked me for extra money.

I threw the household bills down in front of her.

"Do the math yourself! HOA fees, gas, electric, water... you think any of that is free? I'm out there killing myself, and you're at home living it up. Just use drugstore brands. You're home all day. Who are you putting on makeup for?"

Her eyes turned red instantly, and she lowered her head. "I understand."

After that, she never bought anything expensive again.

When her former coworkers invited her to dinner, she told me three days in advance.

She said she'd be going to a department get-together and would be back by eight.

I said she could go. Then that afternoon, I texted her and claimed the company needed a last-minute contract revision.

"I'll probably be working late. Just head home after dinner."

She agreed. But I never worked late that night.

By six I had driven to the restaurant where they were eating, and I sat in my car watching them come out laughing and chatting.

She stood at the entrance saying goodbye to everyone, beaming, holding up her phone for group selfies.

Only after everyone left did she look down to order a ride.

I honked, and when she turned and saw my car, she jogged over excitedly and pulled open the passenger door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, delighted as she climbed in.

"I was worried about you. It's getting late."

I reached over to buckle her seat belt. When the back of my hand brushed her chest, she flinched slightly.

"Did you have fun?" I asked gently.

"It was great." She smiled. "Anna said she's getting engaged next month."

"Yeah." I started the car. "By the way, who picked up the check tonight?"

She paused for a second. "I did. They said they'd treat next time."

"How much?"

"Sixty dollars."

"Sixty dollars?" My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I wasn't pleased.

"Elena, you only get $360 a month. One dinner just ate up a sixth of it. Didn't I tell you the company's been struggling? That things are tight and we need to live frugally?"

She went silent. I continued.

"I'm not saying you can't have friends. But we need to live within our means. You're not working anymore. You'll barely keep in touch with those coworkers anyway. You don't have to go every time."

She said nothing. After a long while, she murmured, "Okay."

After that, she rarely left the house.

Late one night, I got up for water and found her curled up on the couch scrolling through Instagram.

She flicked through the feed fast, but lingered over every post for a long time.

I asked her what she was doing. She locked the screen, said it was nothing, and buried her face in a throw pillow.

Watching her curled up like that, I thought she looked like a domesticated cat.

She couldn't understand the calls of the strays outside anymore. All she recognized was the sound of my footsteps and the pop of a can being opened.

Chapter 3

Recently, I discovered that her best friend, Madison Reed, had been helping her set up a burner Instagram account.

I didn't blow up on the spot. I just saved the screenshots and then gave her the silent treatment for two straight weeks.

I also cut off her allowance. I started buying all the groceries myself, making sure she didn't have a single dollar of cash.

At first, she tried to win me back, cutting up fruit for me and drawing my bath. I ignored all of it.

Eventually, she cracked. She knocked on the door of my home office in the middle of the night.

Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she choked out the words.

"Tyler, it was my fault. I won't contact Madison anymore. Please stop ignoring me, okay?"

I sat in my chair and finally looked at her.

"Then tell me what you did wrong."

"I shouldn't have followed Madison behind your back. I shouldn't have gone against what you said."

Her voice shook badly.

"And?"

"I shouldn't have... made that burner account behind your back."

Only then did I set down my mouse, stand up, and walk over to her. I gripped her chin and forced her to look up at me.

"Elena, I've told you so many times! Madison is a bad influence. She'll drag you down. I'm your husband. Would I ever hurt you? Why do you trust some outsider over me?"

"I trust you. I'll always trust you."

She cried and nodded, tears splashing onto the back of my hand.

The sense of control surging through me was intoxicating. I had never felt this powerful.

"Remember this!"

I stared into her eyes and spoke slowly, in the gentlest voice I could manage.

"In this world, I'm the only one who truly cares about you. Without me, you're nothing. Understand?"

She nodded hard, tears still streaming.

That finally satisfied me. I reached up and wiped her tears. "Alright, stop crying. Next time you pull something like this, I won't let you off this easy."

During that period I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment.

Taming a person is actually simple. Cut off every escape route and make her understand that the only way to live in peace is to obey. Then she'll fall in line.

I thought I had trained her perfectly. I didn't realize she was only lying in wait.

As the company's books grew bigger and bigger, legitimate tax strategies were no longer enough to satisfy my greed.

Some transactions were too dirty to put through the usual channels. I needed a foolproof scapegoat.

The ideal candidate, naturally, was my wife Elena.

Chapter 4

I named her as the company's CFO.

I brought home a thick stack of documents for her to sign.

She flipped through them, then hesitated.

"What are these? I can't make sense of most of them. Could I get in trouble for signing them?"

I sat beside her, wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Don't be silly. What could go wrong? It's routine company paperwork, just a formality. You're my wife. Having my own wife as CFO puts my mind at ease. Relax. I've got everything covered. Even if something did come up, I'd handle it all. I would never let you take any of the heat."

She still hesitated, biting her lip without speaking.

My expression turned cold. I let go of her and leaned back on the couch. "What? You don't trust me? We're married. Would I do anything to hurt you? Why do you think I'm working so hard to build this company? It's for this family, for you. You won't even do this one small thing for me. Are you waiting for my company to go under?"

"No, that's not..." She shook her head frantically and scrambled to pick up the pen. "Fine, I'll sign!"

Watching her sign her name, the weight lifted off my chest, immediately replaced by a surge of contempt.

Women are so easy to manipulate. A few sweet words mixed with a little pressure, and they do whatever you want.

She had no idea how many falsified entries, fake invoices, and records of embezzlement were buried in those documents.

If it all came crashing down, she was the CFO. She'd be the first to go down.

And I could dump everything on her, claiming I only handled operations and that she had acted on her own.

I thought I had it all locked down.

I even thought she didn't have a single shred of fight left in her.

But I had forgotten.

Even the tamest cat keeps its claws hidden, waiting for its prey to walk right into the trap.