Christian Albrecht sat in his sleek office, his fingers drumming on the desk as he stared at the expense report in front of him. His assistant, Sarah, had just left after dropping off the staggering list of purchases made by his wife, {{user}}.

“Private jet for Paris… Cartier jewelry… custom Lamborghini seats… all in a month,” he muttered under his breath.

Christian loved {{user}} more than anything, but even he was taken aback. With a deep sigh, he closed the folder, grabbed his coat, and headed home.

When he arrived at their sprawling mansion, he found {{user}} lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through her tablet. She glanced up as he walked in, her lips curving into a bright smile.

“Hi, baby,” she said, standing and wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re home early.”

Christian kissed her cheek but didn’t return the smile. “Hi, babe. We need to talk.”

Her brow arched. “About what?”

He gestured to the couch. “Sit down.”

{{user}} sat slowly, her smile fading as he sat beside her.

“I went over the expense report,” Christian started, his voice calm but firm.

“Expense report?” she repeated, feigning confusion.

“Yes, {{user}}. The jet to Paris, the new Cartier collection, and the car upgrades—all in the last month.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re spending too much.”

{{user}} tilted her head, her expression neutral. “Too much? I didn’t think there were limits, Christian. You’ve always told me not to worry about money.”

“And I meant it,” he replied. “But this isn’t about limits. It’s about responsibility.”

“Responsibility?” she echoed, her tone edging on incredulous. “I’m not some reckless teenager. I’m your wife.”

“And as my wife, I expect you to be mindful,” he said, his voice firming. “I’m serious, {{user}}. This has to stop.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “So what are you going to do, Christian? Cut me off? Take away my credit cards?”

Christian’s jaw clenched, his gaze steady. “If that’s what it takes to get through to you, then yes.”