“Resign?” I asked softly, my voice carrying a steady, terrifying calm that made both of them pause. “David, did you really think I was going to throw away a promotion I spent five years earning just because your mother prefers her women bald and subservient?”
“You live under our roof, you follow our rules,” Margaret barked, stepping forward. “My son makes a respectable living, but a proper household requires a full-time homemaker. You have neglected your duties for far too long.”
I let out a low, humorless laugh that echoed off the kitchen tiles. “Your son makes a respectable living? Margaret, do you honestly believe that?” I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out a thick manila envelope, and tossed it onto the kitchen island. It slid across the smooth surface and stopped right in front of David. “Open it.”
David frowned, looking down at the envelope with hesitation. “What is this?”
“Read it,” I said. “Those are the statements for every single credit card, loan, and utility bill associated with this household over the last thirty-six months. Do you know what else I found when I checked your personal credit profile this morning, David? I found out why you were so desperate for me to keep my salary flowing without asking questions.”
David’s face instantly lost all color. The arrogant posture he had held a moment before evaporated, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated panic.
“You… what did you do?” David stammered, his hands shaking as he reached for the envelope.
“That’s right,” I said, stepping closer. “While you were playing the successful provider to your mother and your friends, your secret online gambling debts, unauthorized cash advances, and maxed-out store cards had accumulated into a mountain of red ink. Your salary hasn’t covered your lifestyle in over two years, David. If it weren’t for my regional director paycheck covering the mortgage, the car loans, and even your mother’s private medical insurance premiums, the bank would have foreclosed on this house six months ago.”
