Chapter 4 - The Silent Strike|

Beatrice’s face instantly brightened with arrogant triumph.
“Good,” she declared, adjusting her robe. “At last, you understand who holds the authority in this house.”
“I do,” I replied gently. “I understand completely.”
They left the bedroom, convinced they had broken my spirit. I heard them laughing softly down the hall, celebrating their easy victory over the breadwinner.
As soon as their bedroom door clicked shut, I went to work.
I sat down at my vanity, opened my laptop, and muted the screen brightness. My fingers flew across the keyboard with calculated precision.
First, I opened my online banking portal. I transferred every single cent of my personal savings into a new, secondary account I had discreetly opened two months ago under my maiden name, listing my mother as the emergency co-signer.
Next, I accessed the management tab for my primary account.
Click. Cancel supplementary credit card: Adrian Velasquez.
Click. Cancel supplementary credit card: Beatrice Dela Cruz.
I unlinked my salary account from every auto-pay subscription tied to the household. I canceled the premium cable package Beatrice watched all day. I removed my card from the grocery delivery apps, the organic meat market subscriptions, and the high-end pharmacy where Beatrice ordered her imported vitamins.
Then, I composed an email to my executive assistant, Kaye, and my CEO, Miriam.
Dear Miriam and Kaye,
I am dealing with a severe personal emergency at home. I will be working remotely for the next few days. Please note: do not process any resignation, leave request, or official status change unless confirmed directly by me via a secure video call.
Finally, I took out my phone. I took clear, high-resolution photographs of my bare scalp, the blood nick above my ear, the hair scattered across the rug, and the clippers on the nightstand.
I uploaded the files to a secure cloud drive and emailed the link to my family lawyer, Julian Mercado.
May you like
Julian, I typed. The domestic war has officially started. Draft the paperwork.
I closed my laptop, laid back down on the bed, and stared at the dark ceiling until the sun began to rise.