A fever hit 103°F in the middle of the night. I called Curtis Delgado. No answer.

Half-delirious, I used his card to buy some fever meds.

By the next morning, "Emma Henson the Gold Digger" was trending.

The endorsement deal I'd fought so hard for? Gone.

My already shaky reputation was dragged through the mud.

I'd barely clawed my way back from bankruptcy, and now I was sinking all over again.

I had no choice but to find Curtis and explain—apologize, even.

But when I reached the door to his private room, I heard his voice. Mocking. Casual.

"You know the best way to control a woman?"

"It's not spending money on her. It's making her owe you."

"Destroy her career. Bury her in debt."

"Then she can't leave even if she wants to."

I stared at the contract in my hands. The penalty clause. Seven figures.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

Why my family went bankrupt.

Why my career had stalled for years.

Every misfortune in my life—all of it traced back to Curtis Delgado.

1.

While I stood there frozen, my phone buzzed with dozens of new messages. Hate mail.

The same garbage on repeat.

Greedy. Shallow. Never going to change.

Found a man like Curtis and still couldn't appreciate him.

Someone tracked down my hometown address and sent funeral wreaths. Dead rats.

Others dug up my old films and demanded they be pulled from streaming.

My social media was a cesspool.

Every comment section filled with venom.

People were photoshopping my face into memes. Vicious ones.

Get out of the industry. Disappear.

All because I bought a box of fever meds with Curtis's money.

I pulled up the first post that had started the pile-on.

It read:

"This S-surnamed actress is the most shameless person I've ever seen."

"Her family went bankrupt. Curtis Delgado invested billions to bail them out."

"And how does she repay him? She schemes her way into his bed and becomes Mrs. Delgado."

"Years of marriage, spending money like water. And her private life? A mess."

"She makes millions per endorsement, but she stiffs her own employees—and can't even buy a box of fever meds without making her man pay."

"I've never seen a celebrity this cheap and petty."

The post was surgical. Targeted.

Not a word about what I'd sacrificed for Curtis over the years.

Just that box of meds. Fifteen bucks and change.

The little things reveal character, it said.

Lies dressed up as moral judgment.

I'd been so out of it with the fever yesterday, my head swimming.

Today, thinking a little clearer, I finally noticed.

The person who'd posted the smear was Curtis's new secretary. Margot Pruitt.

I'd met her before.

Young. Pretty. And hostile—every time she saw me, she looked ready to spit fire.

At first, I figured talented people were just temperamental.

Now I understood. She'd already cast herself as the next Mrs. Delgado.

I clicked through to her profile. It was full of her life with Curtis.

Ski trips. Galas. Wine country estates.

The glossy, gilded world of the elite.

But the photo that stopped me cold was from last night's charity gala.

Margot in a couture gown worth more than most people's houses. Jewelry dripping from her neck. Standing beside Curtis under the lights, smiling for the cameras.

It clicked.

Why the organizers had revoked my invitation at the last minute.

Why Curtis hadn't answered my calls.

He'd already moved on. Margot was the new favorite.

And now, with his blessing, she couldn't wait to tear me down so she could take my place.

I couldn't help but look up at the people laughing and chatting inside the private room.

Under the dim, romantic lighting, Curtis was drinking a lover's toast with Margot, their lips meeting over the rim of the glass.

Margot pretended to stumble and fell into Curtis's arms, her face flushing red as the others whooped and cheered.

One of his friends laughed and teased him.

"Curtis, you really know how to play the game."

"Didn't spend a dime and still landed Emma Henson—that gorgeous woman—and kept her devoted to you all these years."

"But aren't you worried she'll find out and turn on you?"

Curtis lifted Margot's hand and kissed it lightly, then laughed like it was nothing.

"You know how much Emma owes in penalties for breaking her contract?"

"Eight hundred million dollars."

"Without me, she couldn't pay that off in a lifetime."

"So no matter what happens, she has no choice but to stay right by my side."

With that, Curtis smugly shared his expertise in "wife management" with the room.

How he'd bankrupted my family's company, then swooped in like a hero to win my heart.

How he'd used a box of fever medicine to destroy my reputation and wreck my career, leaving me no choice but to stay with him.

As he spoke, his face was full of pride.

He had no idea that outside the room, tears were streaming down my face.

When I first met Curtis, I was at the lowest point of my life.

My family's company had gone bankrupt. My father had taken his own life out of despair.

My mother, who had never weathered any real hardship, had a heart attack and ended up in the hospital.

To make money, I threw myself into every job I could get—acting, anything.

But I was drowning in lawsuits back then. Every actor and director who'd been friendly with me suddenly wanted nothing to do with me.

Only Curtis stepped forward to help.

It was a sunny day. He crouched down in front of me and smiled.

"Emma, I've seen your work."

"You're genuine. Beautiful. Nothing like those people chasing fame and fortune."

"Give me a chance—let me do something for you."

Before I could even respond, Curtis had already sprung into action.

He paid off every debt my family owed in one stroke.

He brought in the best specialists to treat my mother.

Designer jewelry, a mansion, a diamond ring—Curtis gave them freely, without hesitation.

When he found out I loved animals, he spared no expense.

In Capital City, where every inch of land cost a fortune, he built me an estate spanning several acres.

Everyone said I was lucky, landing a golden benefactor like Curtis.

He'd lifted me from a nobody actress to an A-list star.

Back then, I was at that age when girls fall in love easily.

I didn't understand how quickly things could change, or how cruel people could be.

So I let myself fall for his warmth and generosity.

Then, on our wedding day, Curtis said to me:

"Emma, I've been burned before. The thing I hate most in this world is a gold digger."

"I want our love to be pure—no money, no ulterior motives."

For that, he'd prepared a special divorce agreement.

The terms were crystal clear.

Curtis would take only one dollar a year in salary.

If we divorced, my share of the assets would be exactly that—one dollar.

To put his mind at ease, to prove my love was real—

I signed my name on that agreement without a second thought.

But after the wedding, I discovered the truth.

Curtis's scheming went far deeper than I'd imagined.

Every investment he'd made in my family had been structured as a loan.

Every single dollar, I had to repay—with interest.

All that jewelry? It was registered under Georgina Delgado's name.

I didn't own any of it. Every time I wore those pieces, I had to pay a hefty rental fee.

The mansion and the luxury cars? Only the down payments had been covered. The massive loans that remained were mine to pay off.

And that wasn't all. The prenuptial agreement spelled it out clearly.

As Mrs. Delgado, I was obligated to maintain the family's image and the company's reputation. I had to accompany Curtis to countless events, serve as an unpaid spokesperson for their products, and purchase designer jewelry out of my own pocket just to look the part.

The endless schedule of appearances and social obligations consumed every hour I had. My career—once at its peak—collapsed. My savings—already running thin—were bled dry.

I'd complained to Curtis before. Every time, he'd hold me close and say the same things.

"Emma, I don't want it to be this way either."

"But the Delgado family has so many moving parts. I can't override what the board decides."

"Just bear with it a little longer. Once I've taken full control of the family business, I'll make it up to you for everything you've sacrificed."

I endured it for three years.

Three years of pouring out my heart, giving everything I had.

And what did I get in return? My family destroyed. My reputation in ruins. And thanks to Curtis's scheming, a mountain of penalty fees I'd never be able to climb out from under.

All that talk of love. All those promises of devotion.

From the very beginning, it had been nothing but a scheme to drain me to the bone.

I couldn't hold it together anymore.

I fled to the bathroom and sobbed, letting the running water drown out the sound.

When I finally looked up, Margot was standing right in front of me.

She was dressed head to toe in designer couture, and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Emma. You heard our little conversation just now, didn't you?"

"Heartbreaking, isn't it? So painful, and there's not a single thing you can do about it."

"Here's some friendly advice—just be a good girl and divorce Curtis."

"You've still got a bit of fame left. Do some trashy films, find yourself a sugar daddy. You might actually pay off those debts someday."

"But if you wait until your looks are gone and they throw you out on the street? Life's going to get a lot harder."

She knew exactly where to hit. She understood my pain.

Every word was a knife twisting into my deepest wounds.

When I didn't respond, she leaned in closer.

Her voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear—soft and venomous, like a devil in my ear.

"Oh, and there's something else you don't know."

"I'm the one who drafted your prenup. And your family's bankruptcy? That was my design too."

"So don't even think about getting rid of me."

"I'm nothing like you, some pretty face with nothing behind it. I'm the one who deserves to stand beside Curtis in the end."

That vicious look on her face—it brought back the memory of my father's eyes in his final moments. Hopeless. Defeated.

I couldn't hold back anymore. My hand flew before I could stop it.

The slap had barely landed on Margot's cheek when a force shoved me hard to the side.

Curtis had appeared out of nowhere, positioning himself between us like a shield.

His face was full of concern as he examined the faint red mark on her skin. Those eyes that had once looked at me so tenderly now barely concealed his rage.

"Emma, what the hell are you doing?"

"Apologize to Margot. Now."

"Do you have any idea what this looks like if someone sees? You're damaging the company's image!"

He was worried about Margot. He cared about the company.

He didn't notice—or didn't care—that something inside me had already turned to ash.

I pulled myself to my feet. The words came out through clenched teeth.

"Curtis. I want a divorce."

Divorce.