Chapter 3: Six Hundred Thousand a Month

The next morning, Seren Thorne didn’t wake up until half-past eight.

After a full night’s rest, her back was still a bit sore, but she wasn't nearly as exhausted as she had been the night before.

She sat up, glanced at the time, and then looked over at the man who was getting out of bed at the same time, heading toward the bathroom.

{I thought all billionaire CEOs were hyper-disciplined and woke up at 6:00 AM to exercise? Why is this guy so lazy? Are those abs and pecs just a result of supplements and pills?}

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Alaric Vane suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned his head and gave her a cold, lingering glare.

On the surface, Seren flashed him a wide, toothy grin.

Internally: {The dog man wakes up with a sour face. He’s definitely going to have bad luck and step in dog sh*t today.}

Alaric’s expression darkened. "Your allowance for this month is cut in half," he said coldly.

Seren froze for a moment. "I have an allowance? How much is it a month?"

"Over six hundred thousand."

Hearing this, Seren’s eyes instantly lit up. "So you're saying I get three hundred thousand for doing absolutely nothing this month?"

{Oh my god, I hit the jackpot!}

"Alaric Vane, you are literally a living saint!"

Alaric: "..."

Shouldn't the focus be on the fact that she just lost three hundred thousand dollars?

He felt a sudden sense of helplessness—like kicking someone only to realize they were a total masochist who took the blow as a reward.

His expression grew even grimmer as he turned and entered the bathroom.

Seren, meanwhile, pulled out her phone to check how much was in her personal "war chest."

The original owner had been married to the male lead for a year. At six hundred thousand a month, that was 7.2 million a year. She should have saved up a decent amount.

With great anticipation, she checked her bank cards and the balances of all her social media accounts, only to find a meager balance of a little over a hundred thousand. She couldn't help but feel deflated.

But she quickly cheered herself up.

{I’m getting ahead of myself. In my past life, I lived for over twenty years and never even saw a balance this high. Now I’m thinking a hundred thousand is too little? Shame on me, shame on me.}

In the bathroom, Alaric was washing up. Even though he was alone, he felt as if his head were about to explode from the noise.

When he finished and came out, he found Seren still sitting on the bed, giggling foolishly over her small pile of cash. He walked over and hoisted her right off the bed.

"Wash up and get downstairs for breakfast."

Seren was in such a good mood that she didn't mind the dog man’s roughness. She trotted off to the bathroom happily.

Watching her cheerful departure, Alaric muttered with disdain, "Idiot."

Mrs. Gable knocked and entered to collect the laundry. Seeing Alaric, she was startled. "Sir, what are you smiling at?"

Alaric stiffened for a second and immediately pulled his lips into a straight line. "You saw wrong."

With that, he stepped into the dressing room.

Mrs. Gable went into the bathroom to grab the hamper, murmuring to herself, "It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the master smile."

Seren: {Isn’t that a classic line for a billionaire’s housekeeper? Mrs. Gable, are you on the wrong movie set?}

Once they were dressed and ready, Seren and Alaric went downstairs together.

Seeing that it was almost nine o'clock and Alaric still looked perfectly composed, Seren couldn't help but remind him, "You're going to be late for work."

Alaric gave her a fleeting, indifferent glance. "And? Who’s going to dock my pay?"

Seren: "..."

{Goddamn capitalists. So punchable.}

The two reached the ground floor, and just as they entered the living room, they heard an earnest plea coming from inside.

"Dad, I’m truly determined to build my own career this time! Just give me another fifty million to invest! Once I make a profit, I’ll be the first to come back and show my filial devotion!"

In the grand hall, Arthur Vane slammed his teacup onto the table. Disappointed and angry, he shouted, "You say that every single time, and every time you end up losing even your underwear! I’ve already let you squander hundreds of millions of my personal funds. I have no more money for you. Get out!"

Dominic Vane was unwilling to give up and continued to beg, "Dad, if you’re out of money, you can ask Alaric! My brother and sister-in-law passed away early; you raised Alaric yourself. If you ask him for money, could he possibly refuse you?"

The moment Dominic finished speaking, Arthur grabbed a water glass from the table and hurled it at him.

"You worthless brat! An elder coveting his nephew’s money—have you no shame? When we split the family estate, I gave you more than Alaric got! You wasted your own fortune; how dare you target his now?"

Originally, the Vane family couldn't even break into the top one hundred enterprises in the city. After the estate was split, Alaric had relied on his sheer individual talent to build the company into one of the top three in the country.

One could say that the entire Vane clan had been supported by Alaric these past few years. Even Arthur’s hospital bills were paid by him. Arthur couldn't understand how his second son could be so thick-skinned—living and eating off Alaric while still wanting Alaric to fund his "investments." Dream on!

As Dominic tried to argue further, his wife, Vivienne Vane, took his hand and said considerately, "Dominic, forget it. Dad’s health isn't great, and things aren't easy for him either. Let’s not cause him more trouble. We can just sell the villa we're living in now; that should be enough for your startup capital."

Seeing his wife so gentle and understanding, Dominic’s eyes filled with heartache. "What nonsense is that? We can't sell that house! You’re pregnant with our child. If we sell the house, where will you and the baby live?"

Vivienne held Dominic’s hand, her voice dripping with affection. "The baby and I will be fine. Your career is more important. As long as we have our love, I’m willing to live under a bridge and eat pickled greens with you."

Hearing this, Dominic was moved to tears.

Just as he was about to pull his wife into his arms, an unfamiliar female voice rang out: {What love? The kid in her belly isn't even a Vane. She sure talks a big game.}

Dominic froze. The hand he had extended to hug his wife retracted instantly as he turned toward the source of the voice.

He saw his niece-in-law had appeared in the living room at some point. The voice just now had clearly been hers.

In his ears, her voice continued: {Uncle Dominic really has the worst luck. His wife hasn't just hooked up with his best friend, Rick; they’ve teamed up to swindle hundreds of millions of his assets.

{Once they squeeze another fifty million out of him this time, his wife and her lover will probably flee the country with the cash.

{Once they reach the States, it’ll be nearly impossible for him to hunt them down.}

Hearing Seren’s words, Dominic was paralyzed with shock.

He had clearly seen that Seren’s lips hadn't moved, yet he had heard her voice plain as day. What was going on?

Was it a hallucination?

But he quickly dismissed that thought because the expressions on Arthur and Alaric’s faces had shifted slightly, and both were now staring at Vivienne.

Alaric kept his usual cold, unreadable mask, making it hard to guess his thoughts.

Arthur’s reaction, however, was obvious. He was currently glaring at Vivienne with such fury it looked as if he wanted to skin her alive.

Dominic worried that Arthur might do something to Vivienne in his rage, so he quickly stepped in front of his wife. He said to Arthur, "Dad, Vivienne truly loves me. Don't you dare lay a finger on her!"

As soon as he spoke, Seren’s voice rang out again: {Love, my ass. You weren't home last night, and this woman was "celebrating" with her lover in the master bedroom. The evidence in the trash can hasn't even been cleared out yet.}

Arthur had been furious, but hearing Seren’s last few sentences, his old face flushed a bright, embarrassed red.

His grandson’s wife usually seemed so gentle and soft-spoken; he hadn't expected her inner thoughts to be so blunt and wild.