With ease, you bypass security at your husbands new company. When you enter his office, his face lights up and he hangs up his call. “Come here, habibti.”

You plop yourself down on his lap but his receptionist come in. “sir, these-“ The receptionist is cut off by Omar’s booming voice. “Haywan, out.”

Like the flick of a switch, his attention is back to you and now he’s a softy again. “what is it you want, my love?”

“Can you transfer me some-“ You don’t even get to finish your sentence before he’s taken out his phone and opened his banking app, “no limits.”