On our 10th anniversary, Carl threw a lavish party—but gifted me a mop. His sister Anita laughed, flaunting her gold bracelet from him. Humiliated, I smashed his beloved car’s windshield with the mop and stormed out.

Later, karma struck. A concrete planter crushed Carl’s car, and Anita discovered her bank accounts were frozen. A family friend revealed Carl was planning to divorce me. Fueled by anger, I checked our finances and realized I owned the house and 51% of the business—Carl’s doing for tax reasons.

The next morning, I packed his bags. As he protested, the FBI arrived to investigate Anita for fraud tied to our business. I welcomed them as the majority shareholder.

Carl left in shock. That night, I toasted with my friend Linda, finally at peace. Karma had balanced everything—and I hadn’t even needed to lift a finger.