Chapter 1

A week after marrying Jonathan Blake, I listed all the gifts he'd given me on a secondhand site to scrape together the money for my grandmother's emergency surgery.

When he returned from his business trip, he slid a velvet box across the table to me.

I was confused that it looked exactly like the wedding ring already on my finger.

Then he grabbed my wrist. "Emily, are you trying to pass off a fake to me? What do you take me for?"

That night, I was the top trending search. Headline: [Mrs. Blake Exposed as Number One Gold Digger, Sells Wedding Ring for Money.]

My secondhand account was dug up, and right at the top was the listing for my ring.

My mind went blank. My voice shook. "I never sold my ring. That listing wasn't me."

Jonathan pulled his hand back and looked at me coldly. "The evidence is right there, Emily Carter. You've embarrassed me enough."

From that day on, I was known across the city as nothing but a scheming social climber.

On our first anniversary, my grandmother was dying.

My hands trembling, I called him. "Jonathan, I need 20 thousand dollars for her surgery. Please..."

Through the receiver, I heard a sweet voice: "Jonathan, this necklace is gorgeous."

"Buy it if you like it." Then his voice, distant, as he raised his bid on something else. "For money? Ask my secretary, David."

*****

"My grandma really..." Jonathan hung up before I could finish.

I tried to call again, but all I got was the automated voice.

He'd blocked me like every time I tried to tell him the truth this past year.

He never wanted the real story. He only trusted what was right in front of him.

The doctor, Landon Zimmerman, was once again standing in front of me. "Mrs. Blake, have you paid the surgery fee yet?"

I dug my nails into my palm, struggling to stay calm. "I'm sending it right now."

Landon paused for a few seconds, then said, "You have until 8 PM tonight. Your grandma doesn't have much time left."

I stood in the hallway outside the ICU, dialing David's number over and over.

On the ninth try, he finally picked up.

"What is it?" David's voice was impatient.

"David, please transfer 20 thousand dollars to the hospital. My grandma can't wait any longer," I pleaded.

"Any expense over 3 thousand dollars needs Mr. Blake's approval."

"He told me to call you."

"I haven't received any such instructions." He hung up again.

I leaned back against the cold wall and slowly slid down to the floor.

Two nurses passed by, whispering to each other, shooting glances my way.

"That's her, right? I heard she sold her wedding ring for cash."

"Stop talking. That's Mrs. Blake."

I closed my eyes, and my tears started falling before I noticed.

Gold-digger, heartless woman, and materialistic bitch were the names Jonathan branded me with, and they were the only things people used to describe me.

I stood there, gazing helplessly at my grandma lying in the ICU. Without a second thought, I turned and rushed into the elevator.

The steps outside the auction house were still damp from the rain.

Jonathan brought me here a year ago, took my hand, and promised, "Every anniversary, we'll come here and bid on something you want."

His eyes sparkled then, and all that light was for me.

Then, all that was left in his eyes for me was resentment.

I waited for what felt like forever, and then Jonathan finally came out, his arm wrapped around Olivia James.

He leaned in to listen to her, a smile playing at his lips.

Watching them together, I felt a dull knife was slowly slicing through my heart.

I rushed down the steps and stepped in front of him. "Jonathan, my grandma's really not doing well. 20 thousand dollars, and she can have the surgery."

He stopped with a mocking look. "Emily, are you still telling the same old lie? Isn't it getting ridiculous?

"A year ago, you claimed your grandma needed surgery, and you were selling stuff to cover the costs. But what really happened?

"Do I need to remind you again?"

I froze in place. I'd tried to explain this to him over and over.

However, the evidence he dug up showed the hospital had no record of Grandma's surgery, and not a single call or text from me showed up.

He was obsessed with the idea that I was lying, that I was playing him for a fool.

I dropped my gaze, realizing nothing I said would ever make a difference. "Can I treat this as a loan? Is that okay?"

Jonathan shot me a mocking look. "Do you have any way to pay me back?

"Don't forget. You don't have a job. You live in my house, eat my food. What could you possibly pay me back with?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Olivia, nestled against him, let out a soft sound to get his attention, her gaze flicking over to me. "Jonathan, my shoes are dirty."

Jonathan smiled, looking at me. He said with a slow, mocking tone, "You want money, don't you? Come over here and wipe Olivia's shoes clean.

"Do a good job, and I'll give you the money."

I pressed my nails into my palm, but I didn't feel the pain.

Thinking of my grandma, I got down on my knees and wiped Olivia's shoes with my sleeve.

Olivia chuckled softly, then shifted her ankle so her heel pinned my sleeve to the ground.

Jonathan's voice suddenly flared with anger. "Emily, you really are shameless."

I looked up at him, my gaze cutting through the misty rain.

He was stunned for a second, caught off guard. "Get lost." With that, he wrapped his arm around Olivia and walked away.

The rain kept pouring, getting heavier by the minute. I stood there, lost, until my phone buzzed.

It was the hospital calling. "Mrs. Blake, your grandma passed away ten minutes ago. We tried everything, but without the payment, we couldn't do the surgery."

I hung up.

Rain and tears mingled, running down my face and into my mouth. It was bitter and salty.

Jonathan, why were you deceiving me?

I did everything you wanted. Why won't you give me 20 thousand dollars?

After taking care of my grandma's affairs, I came home only to find Jonathan and Olivia locked in a heated embrace on the couch.

The sound of my footsteps made them freeze.

Olivia hastily straightened her clothes and buried herself in Jonathan's arms.

Jonathan looked up at me, his eyes showing not a trace of guilt, only irritation at being disturbed. "Who let you in?"

I set the divorce papers on the table, my expression blank. "Jonathan, let's get a divorce."