His Secret Fortune and Her Sweet Revenge

Late that night, I was crouched in the back kitchen, cleaning pork intestines.

Out of nowhere, I got a phone call from my daughter, ten years in the future.

After a brief jolt of surprise, I finally confirmed that the person on the other end really was my daughter, Lila Abbott.

Sweetheart, ten years from now, Daddy's illness is better, right? And you got into the college you wanted, and our whole family is living happily together.

"Tell Mommy, quickdid you get into Southgate University?"

Lila went quiet for a long moment, and then, all at once, she burst into sobs.

"No. It's fake. All of it is fake."

"Daddy was never sick, and he never had any debt. He's living in a big house with Aunt Wanda."

"He just wanted to drag you down, to force you to hand over the secret recipe."

The words had barely left her when a hospital call bell rang out.

Lila begged me through her tears:

"Mommy, this is the third time you've been rushed into emergency care."

"Please. Don't believe a single word Daddy says ever again."

My mind gave a sudden buzz, and my whole body wouldn't stop shaking.

How could that be?

Sylvester Delgado and I were middle school classmates.

From school uniforms to a wedding gown, he had given me everything he had, holding nothing back.

The money at home was mine to manage; the house was in my name.

Even a year ago, when he was diagnosed with kidney failure, he couldn't bear to let me sell the house to save him.

He said that no matter what, he wanted to leave me and our daughter a place to shelter from the storm.

I couldn't win the argument, so I quit my steady, low-paying job, took the secret recipe my father had left me, and sold braised deli food to pay for his treatment.

Seeing that I still said nothing, Lila let out a helpless sigh.

"Mommy, you don't believe what I'm telling you, do you?"

"I guess that makes sense. Daddy was always so gentle and attentive in front of you. You gave me up to Grandma just so you could take care of himhow could you ever suspect him?"

My lips trembled, and guilt surged up in me like a flood.

Ever since disaster struck our family, I'd thrown myself completely into earning money for Sylvester's treatment.

And to keep those creditors from reaching my daughter.

I'd had no choice but to send Lila back to my hometown and ask my mother to look after her.

The child I'd raised with my own hands couldn't grow up at her parents' side, and it always left me feeling like I owed her.

"No. That's not it. Mommy does believe you." I explained in a rush.

"It's justyou said Daddy is living in a big house, so he must have plenty of money. Didn't you go to him for help?"

A day as husband and wife makes a lifetime of bond. However heartless Sylvester was, surely he wouldn't stand by and watch his own daughter lose her mother.

After another long silence, Lila finally spoke:

"I did. But Aunt Wanda said you and Daddy were already divorced, that whether you lived or died had nothing to do with them."

"I wouldn't give up, so I ran to beg Daddy. He said this was the punishment you deservedthat it was your fault for breaking him and Aunt Wanda apart all those years ago."

The past flickered through my mind, one scene after another.

My relationship with Sylvester had never been as smooth as outsiders believed.

Three months into our marriage, I happened to catch him kissing his junior schoolmate, Wanda Pruitt, on the street.

I'd just found out I was pregnant, and Sylvester wept and swore up and down that he'd cut ties with Wanda completely from then on.

Only then did I choose to give him a chance to make things right.

I just never imagined he would hold it against me for it.

That he wouldn't leave even the last shred of feeling between a husband and wife.

Just then, a doctor's voice came through from the other end of the line.

"We were lucky to bring her back this time. But if she doesn't have the surgery soon, the patient may not last another month."

Lila's sobbing reached my ear.

"Mommy, I'm sorry," she cried. "Even working four jobs a day, I'm still nowhere near enough for the surgery. I can't save you. What do I do, boo-hoo-hoo"

My heart felt clamped in a fist, throbbing with each of her sobs.

She was only an eighteen-year-old kid. None of this should ever have fallen on her.

After a while, Lila had to get to her part-time job.

Right before she hung up, she gave me an address.

"Mom, this is where Dad and Aunt Wanda live. Go see it for yourself, and you'll understand everything."

I peeled off my gloves, hopped on my little scooter, and rode straight for Oakridge Manor.

A mechanical voice chimed, "Welcome home."

At the entrance to the complex, I caught sight of a familiar figure.

The Sylvester I knew always looked haggard, winded after just a few steps. This man strode through the gate in a crisp suit, glowing with energy.

"Well, Mr. Delgado, buying flowers for the missus again!"

Envy filled the security guard's eyes.

Sylvester gave a small smile.

"My wife loves a little occasion. It's Valentine's Day. I can't let her down."

The guard praised what a devoted couple they were, then watched him go with a respectful nod.

I trailed behind, like a thief spying on someone else's happiness, a sour ache spreading through my throat.

All these years of marriage, Sylvester had never once celebrated Valentine's Day.

He said marriage was about the daily grind, that all those impractical little rituals were just schemes companies used to squeeze money out of people.

Yet here he was, all eager delight, planning a surprise for Wanda.

A door opened, and a dainty figure slipped into Sylvester's arms.

The moment they came together, they were kissing, unable to help themselves.

Just like that year they'd kissed on the street, oblivious to everyone around them.

And I, once again, was the one left to witness it.

"You're not staying the night today either?" Wanda pouted, a little crestfallen.

Sylvester laughed and ruffled her hair.

"Tonight's all yours. That old drudge just took a big order. She'll be stuck at the shop braising all night long."

Wanda gave his chest a coy little punch.

"You really do know how to handle her. A few thousand dollars, and she's happy to slave away in that kitchen all night."

My chest tightened. First thing this morning I really had taken a three-thousand-dollar order.

The customer needed it fast, and I'd meant to turn it down.

But three thousand was enough to cover Sylvester's dialysis for the month, so I'd gritted my teeth and said yes.

So it turned out my all-nighter was nothing more than Sylvester wanting to give Wanda a romantic Valentine's Day.

"Daddy!"

A crisp little voice snapped me back to myself.

A boy of seven or eight ran over and wrapped his arms around Sylvester's leg.

"Can you play one game with me before you have your alone time with Mommy?"

Sylvester laughed, scooped him up, and kissed his cheek.

"You little rascal, of course I can. What do you want to play?"

The door closed.

I stood frozen where I was, my hands clenched so hard the knuckles creaked.

So it turned out that back then, when Sylvester said he'd cut things off completely with Wanda, it was all a lie.

He'd simply kept his pregnant mistress somewhere I couldn't see.

All those times he made excuses about business trips and entertaining clients, he'd been watching another child grow up.

While my daughter Lila could only cry herself to sleep, aching over "when is Daddy coming home."

As I walked out of the complex, Lila called me again.

"Sweetheart, don't worry. Mommy knows what to do now."

Lila asked, a little anxiously, "Mom, Dad even hired someone to pose as a creditor. You have to keep yourself safe!"

"Don't worry. This time I won't believe him again."

After daybreak, I walked into the hospital and scheduled a full round of tests for myself.

Ever since Sylvester got sick, and after his business went under on top of it, I'd turned myself into a spinning top.

I didn't dare stop, didn't dare fall ill, focused on nothing but earning enough to cover his treatment and pay down the debts.

And in doing so I'd let my own health slip.

The test results confirmed it: I did have hepatitis. Thankfully it had been caught early, and with steady treatment I'd recover soon enough.

I picked up my medication from the hospital and walked out, and that was when Sylvester's call came through.

His voice was rushed, strained with helplessness.

"Georgina, the debt collectors are here again. Don't worry about me, just get away, quick."

The last few times he'd warned me like this, I'd rushed back regardless, willing to be beaten and humiliated by that crowd, throwing myself over him to shield his body with mine.

And it turned out all of it had been nothing but a play he'd staged.

The corner of my mouth curved. My voice stayed calm.

"Wait there. I'm coming right back."

I didn't hurry home. Instead I called a college classmate of mine who worked as a lawyer.

"Do some digging for me. Every asset under Sylvester's name, and everything he's given Wanda Pruitt over the years."

My classmate sounded a little taken aback. Not long ago I'd been borrowing money everywhere to scrape together his treatment costs, and now here I was, a completely different woman.

"He's cheating on me. Am I supposed to keep playing the bigger person and let him keep making a fool of me?"

"All right. Consider it done."

Once I'd finished what I had to do, I went home.

Sylvester was sprawled on the floor, staring in terror at the ring of men around him.

"Didn't I tell you not to come back? Why won't you listen?"

His eyes were red-rimmed as he snarled at them. "You've got a problem, you take it up with me. It has nothing to do with my wife."

Contempt curled through me. If I hadn't known the truth, I really might have been moved by that devoted act of his.

"You want your money, fine, that's not out of the question. But you'll have to give me a few days. There's a food company interested in my braised-food recipe, willing to pay a high price for it. Once the paperwork's done, I'll pay back every cent, principal and interest."

The man in charge shot Sylvester a startled glance. After a long moment, he grumbled and cursed, then gave me three days.

Once that crowd was gone, Sylvester grabbed my hand, his face full of shame.

"Georgina, that recipe was passed down through your family. Keep it. Even if one day I'm gone, at least you and Lila could live off it. How can you sell it just like that?"

"When it comes down to it, I'm the one who's been dragging the two of you down. Maybe we should just get divorced."

Over the past year, Sylvester had brought up divorce more times than I could count.

But the more he did, the more I'd felt I should stay and help him through this rough patch.

Now, hearing those same familiar words again, I only nodded.

"That's probably for the best. Lila's still little. We can't not think of our child."

The expression on Sylvester's face shifted. He gave an awkward laugh.

"Right. For our daughter's sake, we grown-ups can't be too selfish."

That night, I woke to find Sylvester gone from bed.

I got up quietly and heard him out on the balcony, on the phone.

"Just hold on a little longer. A month ago I already had my assistant register a shell company, all so I could get my hands on the secret recipe she's holding."

"Once we have that recipe, my dad's factory is saved. Then he'll stop harping on about how you've stuck by me all these years with no name, no title..."

I shook my head and let out a scoff.

No name, no title. What a phrase.

Wanda had no title either, yet he'd cradled her in the palm of his hand and doted on her for eight years. Her son wore the finest clothes and attended an elite private school.

And me, the lawful, rightful wife, worked myself to the bone earning money, threatened every few days by his so-called creditors, not even daring to keep my own daughter by my side.

My phone screen lit up. It was the email from my classmate.

Once I saw what was inside, I clapped a hand over my mouth in shock.

"Sylvester, how much more have you been hiding from me?"

As it turned out, back in the second year of our marriage, Sylvester had gotten lucky, caught the wave of the moment, and made his first fortune.

Then he'd paid cash outright for the villa he and Wanda lived in now.

On top of that, to reward Wanda for giving him a son, Sylvester had signed over ten percent of the shares in his name to her.

Over the years, the cars, the jewelry, the luxury goods and designer clothes he'd given Wanda added up to nearly a million dollars, at the very least.

Yet the Sylvester he'd shown me all those years was another face entirely.

He'd told me the industry was in a slump, that he'd had no choice but to shut the company down, that he was doing sales for a friend's firm and working himself half to death for five grand a month.

Worried he couldn't handle it, I worked my own job and picked up odd jobs on the side to help make ends meet.

In five years I never bought myself a single new outfit. Lila's clothes and shoes and toys as a little girl were all hand-me-downs from friends.

Watching us, mother and daughter, unwilling to splurge on even one nice family dinner out, Sylvester had slapped himself hard across the face twice.

"It's all my fault. I'm useless. I can't give you two a better life. I've let you both down."

Back then I naively believed love could fill an empty stomach.

That as long as our family stayed together, there was no hardship we couldn't get through.

I never dreamed that the Sylvester crying poor to my face day after day was already living like royalty.

Only I was trapped in that tiny kitchen, foolishly dreaming of earning enough to pay for his treatment, clear his debts, and bring the family back together sooner.

I wiped my tears dry and called a childhood friend I hadn't spoken to in a long time.

"Any interest in doing a little business together?"

The next morning Sylvester was up earlier than usual, and for once in his life he even made breakfast.

"Georgina," he said, feigning offhandedness, "is that buyer you found reliable?"

"It's a family recipe passed down for generations, after all. Be careful you don't get taken in by someone with an agenda."

I said nothing and waited for him to go on.

"I spent all last night looking into several serious, well-backed companies, and I picked out the strongest one of the bunch. They say you should shop around, compare three sellers before you buy. It never hurts to weigh your options."

I finished the last bite of my fried egg and nodded. "Okay. Whatever you say."

Sylvester fought down the corners of his mouth as they tried to curl up, then stepped over and pulled me into his arms.

"Georgina, don't worry. Once I'm well again, I'll make it all up to you twice over."

I stared at the coffee-brown strands of long hair on his collar, hair that wasn't mine, and pulled free of him, swallowing my disgust.

"It's about time. Let's go."

Not long after we reached the teahouse, the heads of both companies arrived.

Ralph Swanson caught sight of me and traded a look with me, his face giving nothing away.

And the head of the other company turned out to beWanda.

She came forward, all smiles. "Georgina, what a coincidence. I never imagined the day would come when you'd be begging me for something."

I let out a faint laugh. "It's too early to say that."

Wanda shot a glance at Ralph beside her, in his casual clothes, and named her price with a smug flourish.

Sylvester reached over and tugged at the hem of my shirt, whispering, "Georgina, this price is more than fair. Wanda's someone we know, after all. She'd never cheat us."

I drew a deep breath and, under his watchful gaze, walked slowly forward.

Wanda folded her arms across her chest, chin lifted in haughty triumph. "What's she so cocky about? In the end she still has to come groveling at my feet."

But in the next second, I turned and held out my hand to Ralph.

"I'm willing to sell you the recipe for one dollar."

Sylvester's face changed completely. He rushed forward and grabbed at me.

"Georgina Fox, did you lose your mind? How can you say something so absurd?"

"Withdraw the offer right now. Sell to Wanda."

"Don't forget, you promised the creditors you'd pay them back tomorrow. Do you want to watch them beat me to death?"

I tugged at the corner of my mouth and met his eyes.

"Then go ahead and die."