After ten years of marriage, my wife still insists that my daughter and I must report every cent we spend.

Even though she’s extremely wealthy, my daughter and I were locked in the basement for three days and nights without food. It was all because I forgot to tell her I bought a $5 pair of socks.

I used to think she was just emotionally cold. Until one day, her recently divorced first love came over with his son, asking to stay for a while.

That man accidentally ordered a hundred pairs of LV sneakers online. Then when the $10,000 bill arrived, my wife just signed the receipt and swiped her card without a second thought.

Another time, his son took my wife’s Rolls-Royce for a joyride and crashed the million-dollar car into a wall. She didn’t even care about the damage and got worried about the boy's injury instead.

“If he likes it, I’ll just buy him another one,” she said with a smile.

When my daughter and I were finally let out of the basement, we saw my wife casually buying $3,000 worth of video game skins for that same boy.

When she saw us, her face tightened as usual. “Did you realize your mistake? Next time you spend money, remember to report it first.”

For the first time in ten years, I talked back. “What if I don’t? Are you going to divorce me again?”

For years, “divorce” had been her sharpest weapon against us. She froze for a second, then said coldly, “Yes.”

“Then let’s do it,” I said.

——

Theresa stared at me like she didn’t believe what she heard.

“Divorce? Just for something this small?”

“Correct.”

Realizing I wasn’t joking, my wife gave a short laugh, waved her hand impatiently, “Don’t be ridiculous Paul. I don’t have time for your drama. Go bathe your daughter, she hasn't cleaned up for three days. It’s embarrassing.”

She seemed to forget she was the one who locked us up. Watching her walk away, my chest ached.

“Daddy, I’m hungry… Why does that boy get to eat so many good things?”

My little girl, Anne, clung weakly to my clothes, watching Gregory’s son eat steak, pizza and snacks. Cedric was only a year older than Anne, yet twice her size.

Seeing my daughter’s pale face made my heart twist.

The three days without food didn’t just starve us, they killed what little affection I still had left for Theresa. That was when I decided to take my daughter and leave.

Hiding in the corner, I nervously called my former teacher Billy Thorsen. He listened quietly to my story. For most of the call, he said nothing and that made my heart sank.

Until he sighed and finally said, “I have a job for you. If you bring Anne, I can provide housing. The pay isn’t much, but it’ll be enough for you two to survive.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll definitely come.”

Years ago, I disappointed Billy by giving up my design career and rejecting the big company he recommended. I chose to stay home and support Theresa over all those. Now, broke and desperate, he was the only one still willing to help.

Billy was abroad at the moment, but would return in a month. As soon as he came back, I’d take Anne and leave this house for good.

For now, I just needed to find her something to eat. Three days without food made our bodies at the limit.

I went to our house butler and said politely, “Please give me 30 dollars. I want to buy dinner for Anne. She’s fainted several times from hunger.”

The butler didn’t even look at me. “Did you report your spending to Madam? Without her signature, I can’t release any funds.”

I looked around helplessly and noticed that Theresa was already gone. I then called her, but she didn’t answer.

I begged the butler, “Please, even just a piece of bread!”

But it was too late. Anne had gone too long without eating and collapsed on the floor.

I panicked, holding her in my arms. “She’s just a child! Please!” I pleaded.

The butler didn’t even glance at us. “I'm sorry, sir. Without Lady Bloom’s approval, I can’t pay for anything.”

Desperate, I ran around the mansion asking everyone. Finally, a maid whispered, “The Madam went out with Mr. Mars and his son.”

Anne was only a child, after all. Three days without food or water and she was barely conscious.

“Dad… I’m hungry,” she whispered. Even speaking was too hard for her now.

“Anne, stay with me! Don’t fall asleep!”

I shouted, shaking her gently. As I held her close, I searched online for news. Wherever the city’s richest woman went, the paparazzi always followed, or so I hope.

Sure enough, the top trending post read: [Lady Theresa Bloom rents out an entire luxury restaurant to celebrate the birthday her first love's son!]

It was winder that time. The window was opened and the cold wind rushed in, cutting through my body like ice.

So... that woman could remember his son’s birthday, but she’d forgotten Anne’s? Ironic, her birthday was three days ago too.

That day, the weather suddenly turned colder. Anne was shivering. I bought her a $5 pair of socks without “reporting” it first. Exactly because of that, Theresa locked us in the basement.

She always said she was “afraid of being poor,” and that’s why she controlled every penny we spent. She gave us luxury houses, cars, the best schools, but if we spent anything without permission, we would get punished.

In that grand mansion, even a vase received more care than my daughter and me.

Now, Anne was foaming at the mouth from hunger.

The servants looked at us with pity, whispering to each other. I felt like a bird trapped in a golden cage, waiting to die.

Outside, the rain poured down. Anne’s condition was getting worse.

I clenched my teeth, lifted her in my arms and ran through the storm for half an hour until we reached the hotel that my wife owned.

It took me a long time to convince the staff that I was Theresa’s husband. The manager looked at me strangely but finally let us in.

When the elevator doors opened, I saw Theresa dining happily with Gregory and his son. The boy, Cedric, noticed Anne and smirked cruelly.

He lifted his soda and splashed it all over her. “Where did this beggar come from?” he shouted.

Anne froze, drenched in cola, trembling as she hid in my arms. “Daddy, I want to go home,” she whispered.

Theresa saw us, frowned in disgust and walked over. “Who told you to come here? You look filthy you’re embarrassing me!”

Of course we did! She had locked us up for three days, we weren't even allowed to shower.

Theresa ignored Anne’s pale face. And continued speaking impatiently, “Go home now. Don’t make a scene here!”

I held back my anger and said calmly, “We’ll leave right away. Just please sign the note so I can get food for Anne before we go.”

At that, Theresa’s expression darkened.

“What family of three? We’re not—”

I cut Theresa off. “All I want is a small cake, a bowl of noodles and some sugar.”

Before I could even finish, Gregory’s son suddenly ran over. He grabbed the remaining cake from the table and smashed it right into my daughter’s face.

“Stupid beggar! Who do you think you are? You don’t deserve to eat Aunt Theresa’s cake!”

Anne’s weak little body got hit by the cake plate and the sharp edge cut her forehead. Blood started dripping down and after starving for three days, she finally collapsed completely.

“Anne!”

I rushed over, holding my unconscious daughter in my arms. Theresa just stood there, not moving while Gregory was smiling proudly in the corner.

The anger in my chest burst like a volcano. “You bastards! What gives you the right to eat while my daughter starves?”

I flipped over the entire dining table.

Gregory who had been staying still and watched the entire drama, suddenly screamed. His eyes soon got red with fake tears.

“Reesa, Paul is being so mean! Cedric and I never had such good food before and now he’s wasting it!”

Theresa ran over protectively to shield him, glaring at me.

“Paulo! Have you gotten too comfortable being a rich man’s husband? Greg and Cedric have been mistreated for so long by his ex-wife! I just wanted to treat them to a good meal! How dare you flip the table?”

Gregory covered his face, pretending to cry. “Don’t blame him, Reesa… maybe we just don’t deserve good food.”

The more pitiful he acted, the more Theresa defended him.

Her expression hardened as she called the restaurant manager and ordered coldly, “Take these two to the kitchen. Make them wash every single dish tonight. They can’t leave until they’re done. If you let them go early, I won’t pay today’s reservation fee!”

The reservation cost at least $75,000. So, the manager immediately became nervous and surrounded us with staff.

I looked up at her with fury. “Theresa, are you insane? Anne has low blood sugar! At least let her eat something!”

Anne was still unconscious on the floor, weak from hunger, yet Theresa pushed me away and said icily, “If you waste food like this, then when you finish washing dishes, you can eat from the trash.”

I was too shocked to speak. Holding Anne, her forehead still bleeding, I followed the manager silently to the kitchen.

Theresa called after me, “If you apologize to Greg and Cedric—”

“No need,” I interrupted.

Anyway, we would never be a family again. I said that only in my heart, then walked away without looking back.

In the kitchen, I washed dishes alone while carrying my unconscious daughter on my back.

Perhaps to get revenge, Gregory kept ordering a lot of dish that somehow requires dozens of plates to serve each.

Normally, there were only two or three hundred dishes to clean, but because of him, I washed from 6 p.m. until midnight.

Then another large basket of dirty dishes was brought in. The manager looked uneasy and whispered,

“That man just treated all the restaurant staff to a bowl of birthday noodles.”

By the time I finally finished, it was almost three in the morning.

Before I left, the restaurant owner stopped me and handed me a packed meal. “You’ve worked hard. Take this, let your little girl eat something.”

That entire day, the only person who showed kindness to me and Anne was but a complete stranger.

I held back my tears and thanked him softly.