My Millions, His Parasitic Family

I'm a neurosurgeon making over half a million dollars a month. I support my husband, an army captain, and his entire parasitic family. After I saved them from financial ruin with a $5 million check, I planned the ultimate family vacation to Monaco—private jet, chartered yacht, all on my dime.

The night before we left, my husband announced his ex-girlfriend, Dahlia, was coming.

He had already given her my seat on the private jet I paid for. My new ticket? A commercial flight with a layover in a war zone. "Dahlia is delicate," he explained. "You're strong."

His family agreed, fawning over her while I stood there, invisible. His sister even whispered to Dahlia, "I wish you were my real sister-in-law."

That night, I found Dahlia in my bed, wearing my silk nightgown. When I went for her, my husband threw his arms around Dahlia, shielding her from me.

The next morning, as punishment for my "behavior," he ordered me to load their mountain of luggage into the motorcade. I smiled. "Of course." Then I walked into my office and made a call. "Yes, I have a large quantity of contaminated material," I told the hazardous waste disposal service. "I need it all incinerated."