Know where your money goes. Every entry signed, every paper kept. A book, not a bank — nothing here moves money.
A flat in Marina, a shop in Andheri, the family gold, a fixed deposit, a car on hire, a policy, a good watch. If you would insure it, resell it or hand it down, it belongs in the book — with what you paid, what it is worth, and every paper that proves it.
Every asset sits in its own currency with this year’s income and expenses on one meter. Who keeps it is written on the card, not hidden in a settings page.
Flip the book and the debts are there — mortgage, car loan, what you borrowed from your brother. The only place in the app where a falling line is good news.
Net worth is shown as the arithmetic — assets minus debts — never a number you have to take on trust.
What is it, what is it called, what did you pay, what is it worth now. That is the whole form. Photographs, the address, bedrooms, who else can see it — all of that waits on the thing itself, for a moment when you are reading rather than filling in a form.
Seven calm categories, each unfolding into its kinds — apartment, villa, shop, warehouse, plot, farm. Every category ends in ＋ Add your own.
What you paid never changes. What it is worth is dated. The gap between the two is the number a book cannot work out without both.
Something you own that earns or holds value — property, gold, deposits, a business.
Something you owe — a loan, a mortgage, money borrowed. Your net worth subtracts it.
Two amounts, each with a day. A value with no date cannot be checked, and converting it to another currency uses the rate for that day — not today’s.
Know the rate, not the total? Type that instead. Anything with a size carries a Total / Per unit switch — per sq ft on a flat, per sq yd on a plot, per gram on gold, per share on a holding. Switching clears nothing.
A conversion is whispered underneath as ≈, marked as arithmetic rather than a figure somebody wrote down. It never replaces the original.
Deeds, tenancy contracts, policies, warranties — on the asset’s Documents tab, with who added them and when. Kept in a private vault, served only through Alpha Wealth, never a public link.
Receipts are a separate drawer — for the day the fridge dies. Snap it, and the phone reads it itself, free, before anything is uploaded. Four facts found, one blank left honest: a blank is honest, a guess is not.
When the paper fought back — faded thermal, a bilingual bill — ✦ AI reads the whole thing for one credit a page. Only when you ask. A receipt you never ask to be read is never sent anywhere.
A tab of its own, and it asks where you are before anything else. The same two words mean different things in different places — a mutual fund in Mumbai is priced by AMFI every night; in Dubai it is a figure you type in. Only countries somebody has actually written about are offered, because a menu item that leads to an apology is worse than a shorter menu.
Every option answers the same questions, in your own language: what it is, the risk, getting out, how it is priced, what to watch for, tax. Nothing is rated. Nothing is ordered by performance. What nobody has written yet is absent rather than blank.
Where to do it is a register, not a recommendation. Alpha Wealth has picked none of them and is paid by none of them. It explains and records — it does not sell any of this, and it cannot tell you what to buy.
Only the places somebody has written about.
Most people keep their own book. When you want help — a munim in Andheri, a bookkeeper in Deira, your daughter — you invite them, to the assets you choose, with their own account. Every entry is signed. Nobody wonders who changed what.
Every bookkeeper carries a short code on their profile — WD-4M9T. You type their email and their code, see their card, and confirm the face. Naming them twice is what makes the invitation consent; a mistyped email reaches nobody.
Access is per asset. Pick the ones they keep, and whether they read or also record. A bookkeeper is asked what a place earns and costs — never what it is worth, what you paid, or who inherits it.
Withdraw it any time. What they wrote stays, signed with their name; what they could see, stops.
Their phone is a workbench across every client. Rent day is eleven entries across nine books in a few minutes — the last asset remembered, last month’s amount offered.
The moment they save, it is in your book: dated, attributed, sealed if a paper is attached. You are told, on the phone and in the feed.
It goes both ways. Your own edits show on their phone too — applied at once, because the owner is sovereign, but never silently. The book is symmetric.
For thirty minutes, an entry is its writer’s to fix — a typo should not need a meeting. It is still audited.
After that, a change is a request: the field, old value struck, new value beside it, a written reason, evidence attached. Nothing changes until you agree. The entry shows its pending state to everyone.
Approve, and the change applies with an audit line — “changed by Rashid, approved by Anil”. Decline, and the original stays with the attempt on record. Either way, the history is complete. The original is never lost.
Set a default and per-asset overrides — warehouses break expensively. Below the line, entries record instantly and you are told. Above it, the entry waits for your yes before it enters the book. Income is never blocked; nobody needs protection from receiving rent.
Bursts count too. Five near-threshold entries on the same asset in a day trigger the same card, with a pattern note.
At month end, look at the month — totals, ten of twelve backed, no open corrections — chase the two missing receipts or accept, and seal it. Inside a sealed month everything needs approval, even a backdated entry. The seal bends with consent, never silently.
There is no inbox anywhere in the app. Each asset carries a Notebook: notes to yourself, pinned above and marked only you see these, and below them the room — everyone with access to that asset, each message signed with a role.
A message can point at an entry. A document request is a card in the flow — it chases every three days, and ticks itself when the file lands on the asset’s Documents.
Permanent, attributed, undeletable — part of the audit history and of what your family receives. A message with no asset has nowhere to go, deliberately: it would have no place in a record.
Every trail in it exists for one relationship: you, trusting the people who help you keep it. Nothing is for authorities, regulators or anyone’s accountant. Who sees the book is decided by you, through invitations you can withdraw. Nobody at Alpha Wealth reads it as a matter of course.
English, Arabic, Hindi and Spanish, chosen on your profile — not your phone — so it follows you to any device you sign in on. Arabic mirrors the whole layout, not just the words.
Lakh and crore for India if you want it: 12,34,567 rather than 1,234,567. Figures stay in Western digits in the mono face, in every language, so a number never reads backwards.
Every entry keeps its own currency forever. Conversion is display-only, at the rate for that entry’s date, and appears only when a currency differs from your book’s. Same currency, plain amount — no clutter.
Anything already synced stays readable with no network — the Book, every asset, the papers you have opened. “Where is my deed?” must answer in airplane mode, and it does.
Writes wait on the phone and go up when a signal returns. A receipt snapped in a basement shop is kept, and says so, rather than pretending it is safe.
One sign-in that persists. The book opens like a book, not like a bank. Explicit sign-out, a password change or a device you end from Settings are the only things that close it.
App lock with your face and a PIN behind it. Two-step sign-in. Every device you are signed in on, listed, and any of them endable from here. An alert on every new sign-in.
Weakening something — beneficiaries, two-step, the life check, your email — takes seven days and tells everyone on the book, any of whom can stop it with one tap. A borrowed phone cannot decide who inherits.
No selling or sharing of your data. No authority integrations, ever. Documents go to AI only on your explicit action. Support cannot read your book, and cannot shorten a wait.
A deed lives on the flat and a bill lives on the entry — which left the will, the passport and the life policy with nowhere to go. Now they have a drawer of their own: will and succession, identity, insurance, financial, medical.
Only you can open it. Not your bookkeeper, not a co-owner. The screen says so out loud before you upload anything, because somebody filing a will wants to be told who can read it first, not after.
It travels with the handover. The people you named can read these papers when the time comes — downloading and exporting stay with you, because a deed that leaves is a deed nobody controls.
Name people, not accounts — they do not need the app until the day they do. Nothing is shared with anyone before that moment.
Ninety days of silence, and we ask whether you are there. Twenty-one more days with no answer, and the book moves — read-only access and an archive of every asset, paper, valuation and bookkeeper contact — to the people you named, in the order you named them.
A per-asset nominee where an FD or policy already names one. Private legacy notes — “the deed is in the Bank of Baroda locker, Andheri branch” — that go only in the handover. It is not a will. It is what makes carrying one out possible.
One tap: the year as a PDF and a spreadsheet, per asset or across the book, with every receipt zipped beside it. On any plan, whenever you want.
A cover of ink with the three numbers a year comes down to and its shape — twelve pairs of bars, money in above the line, money out below — because a column of figures never shows a person that July was the month something broke.
Then the ledger grouped by month, sealed marks, where the money went. Amounts that could not be converted are admitted and footnoted, never dropped. Yours to generate, for your own use. Nothing is ever sent to anyone.
| Date | Entry | By | AED |
|---|---|---|---|
| July · sealed 3 Aug | + 9,550.00 | ||
| 1 Jul | Rent — July ◉ | R. Kamal | + 12,500.00 |
| 6 Jul | AC maintenance | R. Kamal | − 580.00 |
| 14 Jul | Chiller fee — Q3 ◉ | R. Kamal | − 2,100.00 |
| 22 Jul | Building insurance ◉ | A. Sharma | − 270.00 |
Four things to glance at — what you are worth, your assets, your debts, your people — and a tap when something happened. Every action is a trip to the phone.
Wrist down, the figures become rules; the layout does not move. Nothing on a face that anyone across a table can read.
A watch that never acts never signs in. It holds no token, no session, no secret — the phone hands it a small digest and nothing more. The complication counts what is waiting, and never totals.
Three tabs — Work, Clients, Settings — and one road to everything: the client, their book, the entry. Your code is your business card. Nothing of “yours” anywhere: one email is one role.
You are never charged. The plan belongs to the owner’s book, and never punishes the person doing the work. What you write is signed with your name and stays, whatever happens to the relationship.
The free book is a trial that never expires and never locks your data. Only writing the eleventh entry asks for Pro.
Bookkeepers are never charged. The plan belongs to the owner’s book, and a bookkeeper writing into a Pro book is never blocked. Never punish the person doing the work. Prices are shown in your currency, in the app, before you buy — and billing and refunds are handled by the App Store or Play Store, not by us.
Free to start. Private by constitution. Kept in English, Arabic, Hindi and Spanish, in any currency, with the people you choose.