My Husband Spent Our Savings on His Assistant—I Bought His Firm and Ended His Career скачать в хорошем качестве

My Husband Spent Our Savings on His Assistant—I Bought His Firm and Ended His Career

"I'll never forget the moment I discovered our joint savings account had been drained to a measly $212. 46. Fifteen years of marriage, and Daniel had cleared out nearly $400,000 without saying a word. The same Daniel who kissed me goodbye that morning, who promised we'd renovate our kitchen next spring, who swore the late nights at the office were just because of 'the Thomson acquisition. ' Turns out, the only thing he was acquiring was his 24-year-old assistant's affection—with my money. But Daniel made one critical mistake: he underestimated the woman who helped him build Westridge Financial from the ground up. I wasn't just his wife. I was the woman who would soon own his entire company. " Before we jump back in, tell us where you're tuning in from, and if this story touches you, make sure you're subscribed—because tomorrow, I've saved something extra special for you! People always said we were the perfect couple. Rebecca and Daniel Miller: the power duo of Lake Oswego. We met at Portland State during our MBA program, both ambitious, both dreaming of making it in the financial world. I can still picture Dan in that faded blue sweater, explaining market derivatives to a study group with such passion that I couldn't help falling for his mind before anything else. Our wedding was small but elegant—a lakeside ceremony with just fifty guests. We bought our first condo with combined savings, scrimping and saving through our twenties while working entry-level positions at competing firms. Nights were spent at our tiny kitchen table, drafting business plans and dreaming about the company we would build together someday. Westridge Financial Consultants was born in our spare bedroom. I handled client acquisition and relationship management while Dan focused on investment strategies. Those early years were exhausting but exhilarating. We took turns making coffee at 2 AM, celebrating when we signed our first major client, holding each other through the 2008 crash when we almost lost everything. By our tenth anniversary, Westridge had thirty-two employees and managed over $200 million in assets. We had moved to a craftsman-style house in Lake Oswego with a view that made me gasp every morning. Life seemed perfect. We even started talking about children—something we'd postponed while building the business. "Maybe it's time," Dan had said one evening as we watched our friends' kids playing in our backyard during a summer barbecue. I remember the way his eyes followed four-year-old Emma as she chased bubbles across the lawn. "We've built something stable now. " I agreed, and we decided I would step back from day-to-day operations at Westridge. It wasn't an easy decision—the company was my baby too—but Dan insisted he could handle things. "You deserve to focus on starting our family," he said. "You've worked so hard to get us here. " So I transitioned out, maintaining only a few key client relationships and a seat on the board, but otherwise removing myself from operations.