Victoria replied boldly, "God, tell me you don't know a damn thing about internet marketing without telling me you don't know. There are so many places to buy these swimsuits nowadays that you have to ask yourself, why would anyone come to you?

"Besides, how much money can you even make from sales? I have to do something more interesting to get people to click and tip like crazy. Selling swimsuits is just a side thing. The real money comes from their tips."

Yes. My expression darkened immediately. Did she just admit that she was showing her bodacious figure to every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the internet for money?

"That's it. I've had enough of this influencer business. Quit that job and join me at FedEx tomorrow. We're looking for a clerk, and you can take the position," I said, putting my foot down.

I was not going to let her keep doing this until something disgraceful happened. "My mom can take care of Martin while we're at work."

"A clerk? Seriously? I'd work my back off just to collect a paycheck of a few hundred dollars. No way. No offense to your job, but what you've been making doesn't compare to what I make," she sneered.

I was stunned. Victoria had always been soft-spoken until today.

I knew what this influencer business was like, believe me. Unemployed losers followed them so they could watch pretty girls do pretty things for free. How many of them had the money to tip every influencer they liked, let alone tip her multiple times?

I snorted. "Get over yourself. Did you forget my reputation as the 'King of Express Delivery'? I can make about 1,500 dollars a month. If we save some disposable income for a few months, we can still afford a place near a good public school.

"I don't need you working a job that exposes you like that for a few hundred bucks. We don't need that, Vicky."

Victoria pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it onto the table. "A few hundred dollars? Oh my God. You're naive. I made 3,000 dollars in one afternoon, Nolan. Take a good look."

It was mind-boggling. I could work my ass off all month and make at most 1,700 dollars, yet Victoria had earned this much in a single afternoon.

She sneered, "I knew it. You're so behind the times you didn't even know. The audience doesn't care how good the swimsuits look on them. They want to see how good they look on me. If an influencer is eye candy and doesn't mind showing some skin, rich men will spend their money on her.

"You think everyone online is as broke as you are, don't you? Tsk. My audience is full of rich people. They have everything except amusement, and I'm there to fill that gap. Do well, and the tips you get will leave you jaw-dropped."

My jaw already felt close to that point. I stared at her, completely stunned.

She snorted. "You really think you can buy us a house and send Martin to a good school as a deliveryman? Do you think you'll be able to afford private school or college? Trust me, you'll need my job just to make ends meet."

Her words hurt, but she was right. I had been naive.

My paycheck was decent, but it would never cover anything beyond a shoestring budget. My family was nothing special either. I could not ask them for help. Staying afloat in this city had already been difficult. Buying a home and sending Martin to private schools would cost far more.

I hated everything about her argument, but I had to admit she had a point.

Besides… should I really be mad? Victoria might wear something too revealing, but at least she only wore it at home. She was not going out to meet other men, was she? And she wore a mask. No one could tell it was her.

Other men's wives might not even have the figure for this kind of work, but mine did. Mine really was that good.

At least, that was what I told myself to feel a little better as I reluctantly resigned myself to a tense agreement.

Until I saw the "tool" she bought.

Victoria had bought thongs and bikinis as part of her influencer wardrobe. How was that any different from being naked? What the hell did she think she was doing?

I could be the most forward-thinking, open-minded husband in the world and still not approve of this. My incredibly irresistible wife in gear like that would give me a hard-on, and I was already used to seeing her naked. There was no way any hot-blooded straight man could look at her and not feel the same. We all knew that perverts already made up most of the audience.

I waited until Victoria returned from her walk, then threw all the outfits at her. "What the hell, Victoria? How the hell are you going to explain this?"

She picked the clothes up from the floor and scowled at me. "You touched my things without permission! And what do you mean, 'explain this'? I bought all of these to improve my popularity, Nolan. I'm doing my best to raise my influencer profile so I can make more money for us."

I had no problem with her earning money on her own, but I would not allow her to cross my line. The thought of my wife parading herself in front of a camera in that kind of outfit for an audience of horny bastards was too much. It felt humiliating. Insulting. I would never want money my wife earned by straddling the line between softcore porn and legitimate marketing.

"I don't care if it rakes in millions of dollars. I don't want you looking like that on camera. At this rate, I'll break your equipment and throw it out of my house," I retorted.

Victoria suddenly tugged on my arm. "Why are you mad about this, Nolan?"

She breathed into my ear. "Did you really think this was for the audience? No. Not at all. My clients sent these new samples, yes, but they were always meant for you."

She looked up at me with wide doe eyes and fluttering lashes. I felt my rage drain away as something else began to course through my veins.

"You've always complained that we've lost some passion, Nolan. Why else do you think I got these, you ungrateful boy?" she purred.

She picked up a thong and a bikini and sashayed toward our bedroom. She turned and winked. "Coming?"

My resolve faltered. I sprinted after her into the bedroom.

…

My beautiful Victoria lay against my chest while we caught our breaths.

She said softly, "I'm making so much money with this. At this rate, we could buy a new home by the end of the year… or even get you a better car. Isn't that exciting?

"I need your support on this, Nolan. I really do. Your approval and encouragement mean a lot to me. No woman wants to sell a little skin for men to ogle just for money. Believe me. I'm only doing it for you and our son.

"I know you feel bad about making me take a job like this. But I promise you, once we finally have enough to live comfortably, I'll quit for good. Sounds good?"

She craned her neck and kissed my cheek. "Be patient, my love. Soon, we'll live in a big house, and you'll be driving a really good car. I love you so much. I want to make it happen for you."

My wife had been with me for so long. She had always been devoted to me. This job was no different.

Tears welled in my eyes. "Okay, but we need to set some rules. You can't wear anything too revealing, all right? Like what you're wearing right now. These are for my eyes only."

She looked overjoyed. "Okey-dokey, honey. I always meant them to be just for you, after all."

And so her business continued.

A few days passed.

While I was taking my son to preschool, I ran into Bradley Combs, an old rival who had once tried to win Victoria's favor. After Vicky chose me, he began hurling insults as his petty form of revenge. He believed he could get away with it because his father was wealthy, while I was always struggling.

Bradley flashed a sly grin. "Oh, boy! Why, it's our Big Boy Nolan!"

I ignored him.

He trailed after me, still wearing that shit-eating grin. "Lemme guess. You've been too tired to satisfy Vicky's appetite lately, haven't you? Why let a flower like that wither if you can't even summon the energy, man? You should've told us. We could've all pitched in and helped you."

I turned and grabbed him by the collar. "What the fuck was that supposed to mean?"

Bradley squirmed. "Hey, hey! There's truth to what I said, man. Don't shoot the messenger. Your wife's been spreading the fun around to everyone. Don't you know that?"

I shoved him away and threw him to the ground.

He winced, then pushed himself to his feet, glaring at me. "I won't forget this, you bastard. You'll pay for this!"

I frowned as he stormed off. What did he mean? Was he trying to drive a wedge between Victoria and me? I would not put it past him. Envy could easily motivate something like that.

Still, he had never said anything like this before, despite years of picking on me. That alone made the comment feel suspicious. I trusted my wife, but Bradley's words left a sour knot in my stomach.

I had to ask her myself.

…

Victoria was still livestreaming when I returned home. From inside her makeshift studio, I could hear her speaking in a sweet, cutesy voice. I could not possibly barge in while she was live.

I went to our bedroom and signed up for a new account. Then I opened Victoria's channel.

To my surprise, she had already gathered at least 30,000 live viewers, even though she had started the job only a month ago. I had no idea so many people were eager to buy swimsuits.

Or were they?

Victoria wore a lacy swimsuit today. It was revealing, though still within what I could tolerate. I exited the stream and checked some of her older videos, which had nowhere near the same level of popularity.

I felt puzzled when I discovered she had sold only about 25 pieces of swimwear so far. Her commissions alone could not possibly bring in that much money. So where was it really coming from?

I returned to the livestream and watched the chat more closely.

[Smile for me, sugar!]

Victoria immediately turned to the camera and gave a seductive smile.

A pop-up flashed across the screen at once. That was it. She had earned money from a single smile.

[Anyone want to bet on her breast size? The losers have to send our swimsuit princess "The Premium Gift"!]

I understood now. Victoria was not selling to female customers. She had attracted a crowd of rich perverts instead. Worse, the openly flirtatious way she interacted with them made my anxiety grow stronger. Bradley's words echoed in my mind.

I forced myself to focus on the stream again and noticed that the viewer count had climbed past 100,000. How was that even possible? Did top influencers really pull in audiences like this on a regular basis?

One viewer in particular, "The Alpha Brat," kept spamming the so-called premium gifts. He repeatedly sent the highest-value tips. I had not seen him pause for even a minute.

I checked the tip rankings and saw that The Alpha Brat had already given Victoria 40,000 dollars in total. I could hardly believe it. Victoria had somehow earned that much money in a single livestream.

Yet I felt no joy for her. My anxiety only deepened.

I had heard how influencers on this platform often built hype to drive tips. Many audience members were actually part of their own team. Their job was to stir up excitement and push the crowd to spend more. In return, they received 50% of the money the influencer earned.