To save my dying mother, I took the $500,000 from Aileen Gilbert and broke up with her son.

Julian Gilbert refused to accept it. Right in front of me, he jumped from the fifth floor.

He shattered his leg, lying in a pool of blood, yet still clutched my hand, eyes full of desperate devotion.

"Doris Harding, if I can't marry you, I'd rather die!"

He threatened death to get what he wanted—and he got it.

But on our wedding day, in front of everyone, he swapped my gown and ring for cheap knockoffs from a street stall.

"You love being a gold digger so much? In my eyes, you're just as worthless as this junk!"

After the wedding, women flocked around him. Every one of them showered with luxury cars and jewelry.

But me—Mrs. Gilbert—I needed approval to spend five dollars.

When my mother's condition turned critical, I applied to him for $10,000 for her surgery.

I knelt the entire night. All I got was a hundred-dollar bill and a casual sneer.

"A gold digger like you? That's all you're worth to me."

I clutched that hundred dollars and collapsed sobbing beside my mother's body.

Meanwhile, he was at an auction, releasing sky lanterns for his new lover.

When I woke, I didn't cry or make a scene. I brought him divorce papers.

He just smiled, calm as ever.

"All this drama over ten thousand dollars? Was it really worth it?"

——

I gripped those divorce papers and stumbled toward the CEO's office, hollowed out inside. But his assistant raised a hand to stop me.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gilbert. Per company policy, you can't enter without an appointment."

I stared at that heavy door and laughed bitterly.

Five years of marriage, and every single time I came here, I was stopped.

Make an appointment. Go home and wait. I could recite the whole tedious process in my sleep.

Three days ago, my mother was dying.

I tried to force my way in like a madwoman, but security guards pinned me to the floor.

My collar was torn open. I clawed at the ground, dragging myself toward his office.

All ten fingernails broke off. I left a trail of blood across the floor.

When Julian found out, he opened the door and looked down at me.

No pity in his eyes. Only cold contempt.

"A gold digger is a gold digger. You'll do anything for money."

"How much do you want this time? Fifty thousand? A hundred thousand? Or the same five hundred thousand as before?"

"You want money? Fine. Show me your sincerity. I could use a guard dog at my door. Kneel here—one dollar per minute."

Naked humiliation. And I couldn't say a word against it.

I could only endure the mocking stares and kneel there like a wretch.

To torment me further, he called his new lover to come over.

Right in front of me, he carried her into his office.

That night, I knelt until dawn.

His lover moaned all night long.

The next morning, he opened the door and casually handed Eve Fox a check for ten million.

Then he turned and tossed me a hundred dollars.

He said that was all I was worth. Then he picked her up and walked away without looking back.

Even as I wept until my lungs gave out, begging him to save my mother, I couldn't get a shred of mercy.

By the time I reached the hospital clutching that hundred dollars, my mother had already stopped breathing.

Her eyes were still open. She died waiting to see my face.

I held her and cried until I blacked out.

The first thing I saw when I woke was a trending headline: Julian Gilbert, lighting sky lanterns at an auction, making a grand romantic gesture.

The media praised his generosity. Even his casual tips to the waitstaff were $50,000.

No one knew that Mrs. Gilbert—his own wife—couldn't scrape together $10,000, and had to watch her mother die right in front of her.

With a heart turned to ash, I called Julian and asked for a divorce.

All she got was a cold laugh.

"Done throwing your tantrum? What, upset you didn't get your money? Now you're resorting to threats?"

"Doris, you can't even figure out how to be a proper dog. I told you—I like obedient dogs!"

"Your mother's medical bills, her nursing care—who do you think paid for all of that? If you want her to keep breathing, you'll shut up and deal with it!"

Through the receiver came a woman's breathy moans.

Julian's breathing grew noticeably heavier.

The line went dead.

I hadn't even had the chance to tell him my mother was already gone.

The pain in my chest was unbearable.

Five years as Mrs. Gilbert, and every moment had been humiliating.

Even delivering divorce papers required me to wait in line.

Seeing the icy contempt in the assistant's eyes, the last of my composure shattered.

I grabbed a box cutter from the desk and pressed it against my throat.

Tears poured down my face as I screamed, "Get out of my way! I said I want to see Julian—now!"

The assistant didn't dare stop me. He could only watch as I stumbled past him into the office.

The moment I pushed open the door, I couldn't breathe.

What I saw destroyed whatever dignity I had left.

Eve sat naked on Julian's lap. The floor was littered with used condoms.

When she saw me, she shrieked.

Julian's face twisted with rage. He pulled her protectively against his chest and grabbed a decorative piece from his desk, hurling it at me.

"Get the hell out! Who let you in here?"

It struck my temple. Blood mixed with tears and ran down my face.

It hurt. But not even a fraction as much as what I felt inside.

I looked up at the two of them, tangled together, skin against skin. A bloody smile crept across my lips.

"I won't take much of your time."

"These are divorce papers. I'd appreciate it if Mr. Gilbert could take a look and sign them as soon as possible."

Julian snatched the papers. He didn't even glance at them before tearing them apart and throwing the pieces in my face.

"Doris, I already told you—I don't like these games."

Eve draped herself across his chest and laughed mockingly.

"The old hag will try anything for a little cash, won't she?"

She bit Julian's ear right in front of me, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Julian, just give her some money. Think of it as tipping a beggar."

"A couple thousand at most—you spend more than that on tips anyway."

Julian's lips curled. His eyes were ice as he looked at me.

He pulled a stack of bills from the drawer and threw them at my face.

"You just want money, don't you? Drop the act."

"Take it and get lost. I don't want to see your disgusting face for the next few days."

Bills scattered across the floor. I didn't bend down to pick them up.

"Mr. Gilbert, I told you—I don't want money. I want a divorce."

The mockery in Julian's eyes deepened.

"Divorce? You're just a dog I bought. What makes you think you have the right to ask me for a divorce?"

He grabbed my collar and dragged me to the desk.

Ignoring my struggles, he forced me down onto its surface.

"You don't want money? Then you must want me instead, is that it?"

"Fine. I'll give you what you want."

He tore my clothes apart and bent down, his lips finding my neck.

Humiliation crashed over me like a wave. I screamed with everything I had.

"Stop—get off me! Don't touch me!"

Julian's eyes were bloodshot.

"You're just a gold digger. Don't pretend you're above this."

"Make me happy, and I'll give you whatever you want."

In a panic, I bit down hard on his shoulder.

Julian shuddered from the pain and shoved me to the ground.

Blood dripped down his shoulder.

For a moment, I saw him as he'd been at eighteen.

The boy who'd rush in when I was being bullied, fighting until he was covered in blood.

Back then, Julian would have given his life for me.

How did we end up like this?

It didn't matter anymore. Misunderstandings, revenge—none of it.

Mom was gone. It was time to let go of the past.

All I wanted now was to escape this cage.

Before I could gather my thoughts, a hand clamped around my throat and yanked me up.

Julian's eyes were cold with rage.

"I give you an inch and you take a mile. Since you don't know what's good for you, get out!"

My clothes were torn to shreds. He shoved me out the door with nothing to cover myself.

I pounded on the door, my voice raw, begging him—but all I got was an icy snarl.

"I said get out. Stop bothering me!"

People filled the hallway.

Under their mocking stares, I clenched my jaw and walked away.

I wandered the streets in a daze, enduring every leering glance.

The early autumn air was cold, but not as cold as my heart.

I didn't snap back to reality until a group of thugs surrounded me.

No matter how desperately I tried to cover myself, there was no hiding my exposed body.

Their eyes crawled over me, naked with want.

I stumbled backward, but they grabbed my hair and dragged me back.

Hands groped every inch of me. One of them pulled me close and sank his teeth into my flesh.

He bit through skin. Blood ran down my body.

Struggling was useless. My screams only excited them more.

In that hopeless moment, I thought of when I first met Julian.

At eighteen, I was working three jobs to pay for my mother's medical bills.

One night, walking home late from a shift, a group of drunk men cornered me.

I was frozen with fear—until Julian charged in and fought them off.

They beat him bloody, but he still smiled at me.

The day I said yes to him, he knelt before me with such sincerity, swearing he'd never let anyone hurt me again.

Now, every wound I carried came from him.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. I closed my eyes and stopped fighting.

Then—tires screeched behind me.

Julian and his bodyguards rushed over. He kicked the man on top of me so hard the thug went flying.

"Get lost! Who gave you the guts to touch her!"

He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around me, his hands trembling.

I must have been hallucinating—I could have sworn I saw a flicker of pain in his eyes.

It vanished in an instant, replaced by his usual contempt.

"Doris, I really didn't misjudge you. You're exactly as cheap as I thought!"

"Seducing street trash just to get sympathy? Have you no shame?"

He let go. I crumpled to the ground.

A sneer curled his lips.

"Then again, someone who'd throw away years of love for five hundred thousand dollars—what shame could she possibly have?"

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I didn't say a word in my defense.

Back when we were together, Aileen had come to me many times.

Pressuring me to leave him, raising her offer each time.

Every single time, I refused without hesitation. I told her, word for word: I don't want your money. I only want Julian.