When Love Becomes a Cage by Nora

Chapter 3

Chapter 3



Before we walked down the aisle, Clyde and I had a prenup. He wanted a partner, and I was more interested in financial security. Each month, Clyde would transfer $200,000 into my account, assuring me I could ask for more if necessary.

He often remarked that he knew my love for him was conditional on financial comforts. Otherwise, why would I have left him years ago for that wealthy heir from Silicon Valley, only to return after a two-year hiatus?-

Clyde remained clueless about the true identity of the "wealthy heir" everyone discussed until then, but he believed I was just another gold digger. Despite the monthly allowance, I rarely asked for money. Yet, even with $200,000 a month, I often scraped by. To prevent my cancer from returning, I relied on expensive medication and tests, which drained my finances.

Today marked only the second time I'd asked Clyde for money since my mother's funeral.

Back then, he didn't hesitate to hand over one million dollars.

But this time, he gently brushed Kayla's hair as if he hadn't heard my request, soothing her with tender words. After Kayla calmed down, he looked up at me with a cold smirk and said, "Want money? Fine, but first, apologize on your knees. You hurt Kayla. You owe her an apology!"

Faking surprise at first, Kayla quickly switched to a smug smile. She tugged at Clyde's sleeve, acting coy. "Oh, come on, Clyde, let it go. I'm not that hurt. Maybe Melanie didn't mean it."

"It doesn't matter. Melanie needs to apologize. You're my priority," Clyde said, placing Kayla gently on the couch before pulling out his checkbook and scribbling a figure. "Apologize, and this five million dollars is yours."

the check, feeling momentarily relieved from the pain. Clyde had a history of inviting women over to humiliate me, but that was

He knew I wouldn't ask unless it was necessary. He wanted to crush my dignity to make me despise myself, and only then would he be

there, I could feel everyone's eyes on me, their disdain, suspicion, and

of her earlier words,

was in was blasting past

said, turning to leave the office and their judgmental

me. But it was about more than just my pride then. If he knew the

the brink of collapse. The pain from my

Remembering my mother's ste

myself to take some melatonin, hoping for

to .Org

a message

surgery for the next Monday. Please

checked my phone, no bank alerts or incoming funds. Closing my eyes, I accepted the reality that

sensing my silence, the doctor sent another message, suggesting a deposit to

designer bags the following day

of a time when was the cherished daughter of the Crawford family, and Clyde was just an orphan boy. I had convinced my father to sponsor him through school despite him not

pursued Clyde despite his coldness and repeated