Page 4 of His Vengeful Tradwife

Well, now the shit had hit the motherfucking fan. A Bit of Ginger was worth a cool $60 million and I wanted to be protected.

Who would have imagined that when I first started the channel, I had only been looking for an excuse to talk about one of my favorite things in the world, FOOD. But my cooking videos, where I prepared a variety of foods from all countries of the world in what I loved best to wear--1950s style clothes--were so popular I was soon inundated with sponsorship and paid creator offers.

It turned out that the prenup had been organized very strangely.

This seemed like the most sensible way to distribute the joint assets,my lawyer said defensively.

Joint assets, my ass! Maverick hadn't doneshitto help me.

In the event of our split, he was entitled toallof my sponsorship money for 5 years, while I was entitled to all of my paid creator money for 5 years. After that period, he was no longer entitled to spousal support.

Well, fuck! I specialized in healthy and organic foods, and had lots of healthy and organic food boxes, grocery chains, and products sponsoring me, and they were very profitable.

I would have to think of a way around that. Because sponsorships were only profitable as long as the companies wanted to work with you. They wanted to work with me because my content was wholesome, bespoke, aspirational, and soothing.

I shelved that problem for the moment and went home to wait for Maverick to admit he wanted to divorce me.

When he got out of the car that night, I could tell immediately that he was planning on it. There was something about how his broad shoulders looked tight, how his jaw was set.

I watched him approach. My husband was eight years older than I was, 40 to my 32, and he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in my life--towering over most people, thick curly dark hair, a chiseled strong jawline, strong hands that were somehow effortlessly powerful but also deft.

Fingers that had been tangled inAmanda'shair, onAmanda'sbreasts, sunk deep in Amanda's wet pussy.

As I watched my husband approach, the man who had been my lover and my best friend for 10 years, I felt only a cold rage.

Maverick wanted a divorce?

Then I'd give him a fucking divorce.

CHAPTER 3

Maverick

Igaped at my wife.

She must not have heard me properly, or she wouldn't be acting so casual.

I had just told her Iwanted a divorceand her response had been "fine."

So I spoke again, clearly and distinctly, so there could be no mistaking my meaning.

"Tallulah, like I said, it'soverbetween us. I'm sorry, but I don't love you anymore. I want a divorce."

She raised an eyebrow at me, her perfectly manicured nails still flicking through her dress patterns.

"Yes, I heard you the first time, Maverick. Anything else?"

My jaw seemed to be sagging and I closed it with an effort.

"But. . .but. . .is that all you have to say?" I asked, somewhat stupidly.

"What do youwantme to say?" my wife replied serenely.

"I'm telling you we're over!" I said impatiently, leaning forward in my chair.

My tie was practically falling in the teapot, but I didn't care. She must be deep in denial, but she had to realize this wasreal. This was what I wanted.

“I got it,” she said cheerfully, continuing to look at me with infuriating calmness. She was wearing a bright pink gingham dress with a little lacy white collar, her long auburn hair falling over her shoulders, like she had come directly from filming for A Pinch of Ginger.

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