Chapter 1

On our third wedding anniversary, Samuel Hart booked out all of Bayview City, lighting up the night with a spectacular fireworks show for his latest flame, Luna Rivers.

Meanwhile, I, his lawful wife, was rushing desperately through the streets, trying to scrape together fifty dollars for my mother's hospital bill.

Later, I died in a fire, my body reduced to ashes. Samuel went mad for three years, clutching my burnt wedding ring.

*****

On our third wedding anniversary, the night sky of Bayview City was lit up by a spectacular fireworks show.

A friend sent me a video, her voice brimming with envy. "Olivia, look! Samuel is unbelievably romantic. He spent a fortune to make his girl smile."

In the video, fireworks exploded across the sky like a river of stars. Luna, dressed in a pure white gown, spun on her toes in the center of the crowd, her smile brighter than the fireworks.

And there was Samuel, my husband, standing right beside her, his eyes soft and tender in a way I had never seen before.

He gently placed a priceless diamond necklace around her neck, the dazzling light stabbing at my eyes.

I closed the video and glanced down at the payment reminder on my phone.

[Ms. Olivia Stone, your mother, still owes $50 for her hospital stay. Please pay by 10 PM tonight, or her medication will be stopped.]

Just $50.

I didn't even have that much.

My chest tightened, like someone was crushing my heart. I could barely breathe.

Fighting back the sting in my nose, I dialed Samuel's number.

The line was a mess of noise—fireworks booming, crowds cheering, and Luna's playful laughter, all cutting into my ears like a blunt knife.

"What do you want?" Samuel asked. His voice was as cold as ever, completely devoid of warmth.

I licked my dry lips; my voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like me. "Samuel, I-I need some money."

On the other end, Samuel let out a faint, scornful laugh, dripping with undisguised contempt.

"Olivia, is money the only thing you know how to talk about?

"You'd toss your dignity aside for cash. So, what stunt are you trying to pull this time?"

I gripped my phone so tightly that my nails left pale crescent marks in my palm.

"My mom is sick. She's in the hospital, and I need money urgently," I said.

"Your mom again?" Samuel's voice suddenly spiked, dripping with impatience and disgust.

"Three years ago, you hiked the wedding money from thirty thousand to ninety thousand right at the ceremony to cover your mom's surgery. So what, is she dying again? Trying to squeeze more cash out of me?"

Every word he spat felt like a venom-tipped needle, stabbing deep into my heart.

That wedding three years ago was a stain on my life I'd never be able to wash away.

And it had been Samuel's favorite excuse to humiliate me for three whole years.

What he didn't know was that his mother, the illustrious Rachel Hart, found me the night before the wedding, handing me a blank check with an air of superiority.

"Walk away from Samuel. Write in any amount you want," she said.

I turned her down.

She gave a cold laugh, took the check back, and switched to a look of fake sympathy. "I heard your mom needs a kidney transplant. That surgery isn't cheap.

"So here's the deal—tomorrow at the wedding, raise the bride price to ninety thousand. If you dare to ask, I'll let Samuel marry you. Think of it as a test for my future daughter-in-law."

For my mom, I had no other choice.

I played the part of a shameless clown, putting on a greedy act for all the guests to see.

The way Samuel looked at me that day—first shocked, then disappointed, and finally ice-cold.

He agreed to the ninety thousand and gave me a grand wedding.

But from that day forward, in his eyes, I was a gold-digger.

"Samuel," I said, using every ounce of strength to keep my voice steady, "I just need $50. That's all."

There was a brief pause, then his voice came back, colder than ever. "Olivia, I wouldn't give a single cent to a lying fraud like you."

He coldly ended the call.

I slumped against the cold hospital wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. I buried my face in my knees, but not a single tear would come.

Turned out, when one hit rock bottom, even tears ran dry.

I lost track of time. Eventually, I staggered to my feet and walked out of the hospital. The streets outside were packed with cars, and in the distance, fireworks were still exploding in the sky. The irony of it all hit me hard.

I wandered the streets for hours, finally stopping in front of a 24-hour convenience store.

Peering through the window, I spotted a guy in cheap work clothes, devouring a cup of instant noodles.

Steam clouded his face, and before I knew it, I was walking inside.

"Hi, are you guys hiring?" I asked.

It was midnight when I finally dragged myself back to the home Samuel and I shared.

It was a luxury villa nestled halfway up the hillside.

I entered the code, but the lock let out a cold beep and announced, "Incorrect password."

I stood there, stunned.

I tried my birthday again, but it was still wrong.

Finally, I punched in Luna's birthday as the code.

With a beep, the door unlocked.

I stood in the entryway, staring at the empty living room. I felt cold all over.

On the wall, our massive wedding photo showed me grinning like I was the happiest woman alive—while Samuel's eyes held not a hint of a smile.

Guess I was the only one who cared, right from the start.

Exhausted, I dragged myself upstairs and pushed open the master bedroom door. The sight inside hit me hard.

All my things had been packed up and shoved into the corner, like a pile of unclaimed garbage.

And now, on the side of the bed that used to be mine, someone else was lying there.

Luna was draped in my silk nightgown, the collar hanging open to reveal a stretch of her pale skin.

She must've been woken by the sound of the door. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, and instead of looking surprised, she flashed me a taunting smile.

Luna said, "Olivia, you're back?

"Samuel told me you wouldn't be back tonight, so I figured I'd warm up your side of the bed."