CHAPTER 2 — THE GOOD HUSBAND ACT
When Omari walked in later—pretending to worry, pretending to care, pretending everything—Abeni kissed him lightly and smiled.
She had never acted better.
The next morning, she made microwave pancakes and poured him coffee.
Omari frowned.
“These taste weird.”
“It’s a healthy recipe,” she said cheerfully.
Behind the spice rack, her phone recorded every word.
Especially when he casually said:
“Hey… maybe you should add my name to the condo paperwork? Since I’m the head of the household.”
“Oh? Are you?” she asked sweetly.
“Well, yeah—traditionally.”
“We’ll talk later.”
Her smile was polite.
Her eyes were ice.
And her phone captured his entitlement perfectly.
