Chapter 1

Everyone in our circle knew I was a professional gold digger, that I married Julian Thorne purely for money.

He saw me as a stand-in, and I saw him as an ATM.

Until Julian's idealized stepsister, Chloe Thorne – the woman he truly loved – returned to the States. I, who was supposed to quietly step aside, suddenly found myself a little reluctant to let go.

After all, a handsome and generous sugar daddy isn't easy to find.

Just as I was trying to figure out how to desperately cling on, I walked in on Julian prying the gemstone right off my mother's ring to please Chloe. It was my mother's only memento.

Julian looked at my suddenly pale face and impatiently pulled out his checkbook.

"Name your price. I'll pay you double."

Seeing his cold, detached eyes, I instantly sobered up.

Oh, human emotions. Best to avoid pointless sentimentality and focus on the all-powerful gold.

I immediately looked up, a sweet smile on my face.

"Triple, how about that?"

Julian paused.

Then, as if he'd expected it, he scoffed and shook his head.

His pen swiftly scribbled a larger number on the checkbook, tearing the check off with a sharp rip, and holding it out to me.

"Five million."

"That old ring of yours was worth at most fifty thousand. I'm giving you ten times that. Enough?"

That many zeros on a check? I'd only ever seen that in Wall Street movies.

I took it, my eyes crinkling into crescent moons from my smile.

"Enough! More than enough!"

Seeing my delighted expression, Chloe, who was holding the freshly-pried gemstone, felt a knot in her stomach.

She had deliberately come to spite me today.

She knew if she commented on how beautiful the main stone on my dressing table ring was, Julian would absolutely pry it off for her. When I walked in on the scene, I'd break down and scream like a bitter, resentful wife. Then, she could play the innocent victim, making Julian despise me even more, maybe even kicking me out on the street.

But Chloe had no idea I'd be so easily bought off.

She couldn't help but raise her voice, furious, and accused me:

"Aurora Stone, are you really that materialistic?"

"Eleanor said this ring was your mother's only memento. You're so cold and callous to your own parents, how much genuine affection could you have for Julian? As for this worthless rock… here! Take it back!"

"Anything that belongs to someone like you, I wouldn't touch it. It's disgusting!"

The gemstone hit the floor at my feet, rolling a few times, picking up tiny scratches.

Julian frowned almost imperceptibly at Chloe's aggressive gesture.

But instead of getting angry, I simply bent down, picked it up, and blew off the dust. I calmly spoke.

"Chloe, there's something Eleanor probably didn't tell you."

"My mother was a human trafficker. The first child she ever sold was me. Years later, when she saw I'd made something of myself, she tried to 'reclaim' me. She eagerly bought this expensive ring as a gift, hoping to get me back."

"I refused and immediately called the police. She was sentenced to death and executed years ago."

With that, I tucked the gemstone into my pocket and gave Chloe an incredibly bright smile.

"So, exchanging this trinket for five million dollars? That's a steal! But since you don't like it, Chloe, I guess I'm just getting a freebie."

"Thank you, Chloe!"

Chloe was so choked up by my words, she couldn't speak.

I, however, was delighted to see her squirm. I adopted the hostess's air and continued to provoke her.

"Chloe, you just got back from your trip to the States, and you must be exhausted. I had Eleanor tidy up the guest room for you. You should get some rest."

Then, I turned to Julian, giving him a lingering, seductive look. Flirtatiously, I said,

"Well, Julian, I'm heading back to our room now."

"I'll be waiting for you in the master suite."

As I turned to leave, I could almost hear Chloe grinding her teeth in fury behind me.

Sigh.

I'm a professional gold digger.

Don't challenge my livelihood with your petty games.

Back in the master suite, the shattered ring setting Julian had pried apart was still on the dressing table. I pulled the gemstone from my pocket and placed it beside it.

I sighed softly, then dug out some glue, trying to reassemble it.

My birth mother sold me to a family who couldn't have children.

Forty thousand dollars. Because I was a girl, the price was haggled down to thirty thousand, and my mother sold me cheap.

I was six, old enough to remember and to work.

The irony was, a few years later, that family had a son of their own. My adoptive parents then sold me again.

Twenty-three thousand six hundred dollars, to an old alcoholic, who said he'd raise me to be his future wife.

Two years later, the drunkard drowned in a stupor.

I finally stopped being bought and sold like chattel and struggled to grow up.

My birth mother sold me for money, my adoptive parents sold me for money.

So, don't tell me I'm materialistic.

Maybe I never tasted what "love" truly felt like.

Living this long, I've never had time to worry about love. Worrying about money, though, that's a regular thing.

All that lovey-dovey stuff? Two days at a real job and you'll come back to your senses.

Good thing I love money, and money loves me.