He Beats Me To Entertain His Friends – And My Revenge Shocked Them….EPISODE: 3

• “James, this is not right,” she said softly. But he shouted her into silence. Don’t tell me how to run my house, mama. That was the final spark. Even his mother had now seen what I had lived with for years. But that day, while he drank and danced with his friends, I stood by the corner, quiet and still. I didn’t cry because I had already arranged the final move.
• 2 days later, I got a call from Grace. Everything is ready. We just need your word. I looked at James, snoring on the couch, shirt open, belly out, phone in his hand, whiskey bottle half empty. He looked like a king, but he was about to wake up in rags. I whispered back, “It’s time.” And just like that, the first hammer of justice dropped.
• One email at a time, one signature at a time, one transfer at a time. He had no idea that his empire was cracking under his nose. and I, his quiet little wife, was the one holding the hammer. James didn’t notice the first crack. He still wore his designer suits, drove his Range Rover through the estate like a king, and walked with the pride of a man who believed he was untouchable.
• But deep in the heart of his empire, termites had begun to chew, and I was the queen of the colony. Two weeks after I gave Grace the go-ahad, strange things started happening in James’ perfect little world. First, one of his major clients pulled out of a real estate deal. Nigerian naira 27 million gone.
• Just like that, he came home furious, throwing documents around the house and shouting into his phone. These useless clients want to insult me. I asked him what happened. He shoved me aside. Get out of my face, Anita. You think everything is about gossip. I nodded, backed away, and watched. watched as the first candle in his palace dimmed.
• He didn’t know I was the one who had sent the anonymous email to that client. An email with evidence of how James had forged a signature on a previous deal. The documents he didn’t even know I had copied. Next came the silent freeze. His company account was flagged for suspicious activities.
• He paced the living room in his boxers, sweating, pressing his phone non-stop, trying to reach his account officer. When he finally got through, he shouted, “What do you mean blocked? I own this bank.” They told him it was a compliance issue. He blamed his staff. He blamed hackers. He even blamed witches. He didn’t know the documents I sent were already in the hands of the FCC.
• Thanks to grace and a quiet connection in the financial crime unit, James was now under investigation, and I hadn’t even touched him directly. Still, he didn’t suspect me because I had returned fully to my silent role, serving his meals, bathing Norah, staying in the background like a faded painting. He still called me names, still boasted about his sharp brain to his foolish friends.
• He even gave one of them my old car to show her she’s nothing without me, and I smiled and waved as they drove off, because soon, not even his shoes would belong to him. Then came the shocker. One rainy evening, he returned from the office with a folded letter in his hand. His white shirt was soaked, his eyes read. What happened? I asked gently. He looked at me for the first time in weeks.
• They removed me, he said. Removed you? Board of directors. They said my image is damaging the company. That pending investigation, I should step aside. I pressed my palm to my chest. Wow, I whispered. That’s serious. James collapsed into the couch and grabbed his head. They even froze my salary. My own salary, Anita. Can you imagine me? James Zoalabi.
• I sat beside him, touched his shoulder gently, and said, “Everything will be okay.” But deep inside, I wanted to laugh because for years, I begged him to see me, to listen, to be a better man. He ignored me. Now the world was forcing him to listen to silence. That night, while he snored in the room with one hand on his chest like a fallen king, I opened my notebook.
• I ticked off three items. Real estate deal ruined. Company account flagged. Suspended from office. Next step, destroy the image he woripped. The image of the perfect man, the husband of the year, the alpha male. I had already started leaking screenshots of his chats to a blog that specialized in celebrity scandals.
• The same chats where he insulted his mother, mocked his staff, and bragged about cheating on me. I sent them anonymously through Grace’s burner phone. And within 48 hours, his name was trending. #Jamestheon, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, screenshots everywhere. I can’t believe he said this about his wife. So this is the man we called a role model. Any woman that stays with this kind of man needs help.
• He blamed his staff, accused his friends. He even accused his ex-girlfriend. But he never looked at the woman sitting across the dining table quietly serving his galaf rice with grilled chicken. I had become invisible to him again, and that was my biggest strength. One night, he came home late, drunk and bitter. He threw his belt on the ground, kicked the table, and shouted, “Why is the world against me?” I didn’t answer.
• He turned to me with bloodshot eyes. “Anita, are you happy now? You want to see me suffer, Abi?” I looked up slowly, tears resting in the corners of my eyes. “No, James. I’ve always wanted to see you happy, but maybe you don’t know what happiness really looks like.” He stared at me, confused. I walked away before he could react.