The Pigeons Have Billions. My Husband Doesn't.

She let him move the money. She just never mentioned where it would land.

Allegra St. Martin has run her family's fortune out of a handbag for sixteen years, and in all that time her husband has never once checked her work — which is exactly why he has no idea what he's doing when he decides to convert everything he owns into his mistress's wellness-cult cryptocurrency and ascend to a higher frequency without her.

He thinks he's leaving her with nothing. He's actually handing the whole fortune to a pigeon charity.

Because the only way to get the money back is to let it all go — to become the coin's biggest investor through the one vehicle a divorce can't touch, the vanity bird charity everyone finds so adorable, and then sell at the very top, in front of everyone, on the night the cult unveils its miracle. The catch: the charity has to be real, which means learning to keep pigeons from the one man in Manhattan who sees exactly what she's doing and helps her anyway. And the mistress is smart enough to build a trap out of Allegra's own good press.

One con. Two marks. Four seconds at the top. And forty pigeons who are about to become the richest birds in New York.

A laugh-out-loud, closed-door revenge comedy about the pettiest possible way to take back everything, plus the bird man who'd rather watch her win than rescue her. HEA, no cliffhanger.

Book 2 of Wives In Their Petty Era: four wives, four cheating husbands, one very stupid pact, and a city changing hands one lever at a time. Each book stands alone; read in order for the ongoing war.