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."

inviting women over to humiliate me, but that was always behind closed doors. In public, no matter

I wouldn't ask unless it was necessary. He wanted to crush my

everyone's eyes on me, their disdain,

her earlier words, "The real homewrecker is someone who doesn't get

my heart, the actual pain I was in was blasting past the emotional mess

to leave the office

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

my way home, my body on the brink of collapse. The pain from

Remembering my mother's ste

forced myself to take some melatonin, hoping for even a

to .Org

with a message from the

surgery for the next Monday. Please come by to make

alerts or incoming funds. Closing my eyes, I

the doctor sent another message, suggesting a deposit to

bags the

was just an orphan boy. I had convinced my father to sponsor him through school

I pursued Clyde despite his coldness

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