My Husband Wants An Open Marriage

CHAPTER 026: A Queen WithouRA Castle

that restriction."

"Well," she says, "it looks like the restriction was placed by the primary account holder."

"The what?"

"The primary account holder."

I pause, feeling the words sink in. "There must be some mistake. It's a joint account. There can't be a primary account holder."

"Yes," she agrees. "It is a joint account, but in some cases, joint accounts are set up with a primary and secondary holder for security reasons."

"And which am I? Primary or secondary?"

"You're listed as the secondary holder, Mrs. O'Brien," she says.

Secondary. The word digs under my skin, sharp and twisting. "And who, exactly, is the primary account

holder?"

"That would be... Mr. Ryan O'Brien," she says, hesitating just long enough for my stomach to sink.

Of course, Ryan. It can only be Ryan. Who else derives great joy in tearing my world apart? He had the gall to block me from my own money? "So, let me get this straight," I say, clenching my jaw so hard I'm surprised my teeth don't shatter. "I can't access my own account because he decided I shouldn't?""

She clears her throat. "In this type of joint account, yes, any major restriction can only be lifted by the primary account holder."

"Why wasn't I informed about this ridiculous setup?" I ask, my voice rising despite myself. I can feel the eyes of the receptionist and the concierge drifting in my direction, but I can't bring myself to care. "I put all my savings in that account. Every last cent." My voice trembles, and I'm sure she can hear it through

the line.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. O'Brien," she says, sounding appropriately apologetic, though I can tell it's the kind of sympathy she's likely learned to fake. "But to regain access, you'll need to speak with Mr. O'Brien directly."

I let out a humorless laugh. "The fucking bastard."

"Excuse me?" she says.

I brush it off, shaking my head even though she can't see it. "Nothing, Sara. Thanks for your help." I end the call before she can say another word.

I slide my phone back into my bag, my fingers trembling. I glance back at the receptionist, who's waiting with a tentative smile, and I manage a brittle smile of my own. "It seems,"I say, "I won't be needing that room after all."NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

She hesitates, offering a sympathetic nod, "I'm sorry, ma'am. If there's anything else we can help you with

"I doubt it," I say, turning on my heel and heading for the door. The hotel's grandeur seems to mock me as I walk away, the glass chandeliers and polished floors all reminding me of the lifestyle Ryan's stripped away from me. And now, with my account locked and my options dwindling, it's like he's reaching out from wherever he is, still pulling the strings on my life, still making sure I have nothing left. Nothing,

except the bitter taste in my mouth and a smoldering anger the fed the could bum the whole cry down.

When I step outside, the cold air hits me. I'm alone in ew You without a single Solarcanaces an because several years ago, I fell in love with the wronginan, an atopite piece of str

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the street with its fiskering fights and blaring tads the c buzzing around me with no idea I've just hit rock botto

My hands are shaking, but not from the cold

"He can't get away with this," I whisper to myself. That was my money, my life savings my future was there for every long hour, every sacrifice, every drop of sweat, and the swoods and books me or of the one thing I have left. It's a new level of cruelty, even forfine I pull out my phone, pressing the screen so hard I almost cock it, my thun trovating his name in my contacts. Lord, help me, I'm ready to rain down hell on Ryan O'Bien

But then I freeze

This is what he wants. He wants me to call him, to admit defeat, to let him know I'm trotting without him

just as he said. He's waiting gining wherever he is, imagining me caling and begging from stand dog at his feet. And I'll be damned if I give him that satisfaction

With a deep breath, I pull my thumb away and lock the screen, burying the phone in my fist

We'll settle this in court, Ryan O'Brien,

1 glance around the empty street, wondering who's lefto call-who's left that I can turn to now that Ryan has shattered every piece of my life. My thumb hovers again, and I scroll trough my contacts, names flying by in a blur. I stop when I see it Luke.

It's late. He's the last person I should be calling, but he's also the only one who's ever STOWD WITET II needed someone, no questions asked. I press "Call" and listen as it rings, each tome dragging out longer echoing against the night. I'm about to hang up, cursing myself for even trying, when he picks un

"Julie." His voice is breathless, like he's been running What's wrong

I pause, my throat tight. "Sorry for calling so late. I'm kind of in the middle of nowhere, stranded. And I don't know what else to do." A beat of allence follows before I say it. "Actually, Lake, I'm homeless Today's Bonus Offer