Last Life She Killed Me for My Rich Husband, This Life I Let Her Have Him Chapter 02

Last Life She Killed Me for My Rich Husband, This Life I Let Her Have Him Chapter 02

On our first date, Charles wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“You look so tacky. What even is that outfit? I don’t like it. Don’t ever wear it again.”

His voice was loud, commanding, leaving no room for argument. People around us started staring.

I felt a flicker of discomfort.

But he acted like nothing had happened and tossed me a card. “There’s about thirty grand on here. PIN is my birthday. Go buy yourself some nice clothes.”

Then, just like that, I felt perfectly fine again.

The problem with “nice” is that it’s entirely subjective. What I thought looked good, he might hate. And my opinion didn’t matter. Only his did.

So I had an idea. I went through all his social media, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, everything. Figured out the style he liked, then hired a professional stylist to put together over a dozen outfits based on his taste.

I didn’t know his birthday, so I contacted the matchmaking event organizer. I fell back on the kind of shameless persistence I’d picked up from dealing with clients, and finally got his birthday. The card went through.

When I picked up the clothes, I ran into my sister shopping with her underdog guy, Benjamin Hart. She had her arm wrapped around his, looking all lovey-dovey.

“Oh wow,” she said. “He’s already controlling what you wear, and you’re not even married yet? Your life is so pathetic. Not like my sweetheart. He lets me do whatever I want.”

I let my face fall into an embarrassed, uncomfortable look and let her gloat.

Come on. She was job hunting too. Didn’t she realize that even regular jobs come with dress codes?

A job paying three thousand a month still comes with rules. For my three-hundred-thousand-a-month job, a few extra uniforms were totally reasonable.

In the end, it was just about seeing things from a different perspective.