Carter Sterling noticed I hadn't submitted an "expense request" to the family group chat in a week. He thought I’d finally dropped my petty, penny-pinching habits. Tossing a black Amex onto the dining table like a handout, he sneered: "I paid off your dad's dialysis bills. Don't bother me with this poor-people nonsense anymore." "I know your family is a bottomless pit, but you're Mrs. Sterling now. Try not to look so desperate." But he didn't know that when I took the black card, I had already signed my body donation form and our divorce papers. As I walked out the door, I was still wearing the same pill-covered hoodie he had casually tossed me five years ago. No one would believe that the wife of Carter Sterling, a man who controlled half the media resources in the country, had to take a photo of a $5 receipt for tampons and upload it to his assistant's phone for approval. All because he thought a "gold digger" like me would go bad the second I had real money in my hands. But a week ago, my dad’s kidneys failed and he needed an emergency blood transfusion. I begged Carter on my knees for a $4,000 advance. His darling secretary, however, intentionally rejected my transfer request, smiling as she said she wanted to help me cure my "insatiable greed." Carter didn't know that I endured this humiliation just so my dad could stay alive in his private hospital. Now, my dad's life support had been pulled due to unpaid bills, and his ashes had already been scattered. I didn't need to be his obedient dog anymore. Free Chapters 1 ######################### Data Divider ######################### Chapter 1 My phone buzzed. A message from Carter Sterling popped up on the screen, dripping with his usual condescending charity. "I’ve reinstated your dad's treatment. Be a good girl from now on and stop lying to extort money from me." "I know it's not easy for people from your background, but my money isn't that easy to scam." I stared at those two lines of text. My heart was unusually calm. I replied with a single word: "Okay." Setting my phone down, I signed my name on the divorce agreement sitting in front of me. Carter probably thought my three-day hiatus from asking for reimbursements was just me throwing a tantrum. A so-called "cold war." After all, for the past three years, I had lived like a dog just to keep my dad’s medical bills paid. I had no source of income. Carter forbade me from working, claiming it was humiliating for a Sterling wife to show her face in the corporate world. But he didn't give me an allowance, either. Every single cent I spent had to go through his company's expense portal for approval. Buying groceries required an expense report. Buying tampons required an expense report. Even the few bucks I spent riding the subway required a scanned receipt. And the person approving all of this was his executive secretary, Evelyn Reed. The woman who had been by his side since college, the one who proudly styled herself as his "office wife" and "soulmate." Three days ago. The hospital issued a critical condition notice. My dad had suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and needed immediate surgery. Thirty thousand dollars. To Carter Sterling, that was the price of a single bottle of vintage wine. I called him like a madwoman. After a dozen tries, someone finally picked up. But the voice on the other end belonged to Evelyn Reed. "Harper, Carter is in a meeting right now. Is it an emergency?" I didn't care about anything else. I begged her through my tears, "Evelyn, let me talk to Carter! My dad is dying, I need thirty thousand dollars for his surgery!" Evelyn let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Harper, you know the company rules." "Thirty thousand isn't a small amount. You have to submit it through the corporate portal." "Carter hates people who break the rules. If you just demand money like this, he'll be angry." "Hurry up and submit a ticket in the system. I'll approve it as soon as I see it." The call disconnected. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely hold my phone as I filled out the form in that damn expense portal. Reason: Father's emergency surgery. Amount: $30,000. Attachment: Critical Condition Notice. Submit. I stared at the screen. One second. Two seconds. Ten minutes later. My phone chimed. It wasn't a bank transfer notification. It was a rejection notice from the portal. Rejected by: Evelyn Reed. Reason for rejection: Attachment format is blurry. Please rescan and upload. The blood in my veins ran ice cold. I took another photo. My hands were trembling, making the picture slightly blurry, so I took another one. Every second was a matter of life and death. I hit submit again. Five minutes later. Rejected. Reason for rejection: Requested amount is too high. Please provide a detailed itemized bill, precise to the unit price of each medication. I lost my mind. The surgery hadn't even happened yet. The doctors were still in the ER trying to resuscitate him. Where the hell was I supposed to get a perfectly itemized bill? I texted Evelyn. "Please, I'm begging you, just approve the funds! It's life-saving money!" "I'll give you the itemized bill later! Evelyn, this is a human life!" Evelyn replied with a cute, smiling emoji. "Harper, it's not that I don't want to help." "But financial protocols are protocols. You're putting me in a tough spot." "You've always been too undisciplined. You can't bring the bad habits of poor people into a wealthy family." "Carter specifically told me to help set some rules for you." Clutching my phone, I dropped to my knees outside the operating room doors. Like a pathetic, spineless stray dog. I texted Carter. I sent voice memos. "Carter, I'm begging you." "As long as you give me the money, I'll do whatever you want from now on." "I won't cause trouble anymore. I won't be jealous of Evelyn anymore. Please, just save my dad." Half an hour later. Carter finally replied with an audio message. The background was loud, and his voice carried the impatient slur of someone who had been drinking. "Do what Evelyn says." "Stop annoying me." At that exact moment. The light above the operating room went out. The doctor walked out, pulled off his surgical mask, and shook his head with profound regret. "I'm so sorry. If only we had the funds to administer the coagulants ten minutes earlier..." I didn't hear the rest of his sentence. I just felt the whole world suddenly go dead silent. The old man who had endured every hardship to raise me, who had collected scrap metal just to put me through college... Because of an "incorrectly formatted" expense report... Died in this glittering, prosperous city. As his body slowly grew cold, my love for Carter Sterling went completely, irrevocably cold right along with it. Over the past three days. I handled the funeral arrangements. The cremation. The burial plot. I didn't tell Carter. Because there was no need. Wasn't he afraid I was scamming him for money? From now on, I would never ask him for another dime. I looked at the "charity text" Carter had just sent me. The corners of my mouth curled up. He thought I was playing games to get his attention again. Little did he know. This was the last shred of dignity I was ever going to give him. A red notification dot popped up on Instagram. It was a post from Evelyn. The photo showed a high-end omakase sushi spread, along with a man's hand. On his wrist was the Patek Philippe watch I had once dreamed of buying for Carter. The caption read: "Thanks to the boss for treating me to an amazing dinner. Some people only know how to hold their hands out for money. Such a buzzkill." I clicked the heart button. Truly. It was the first time I had ever "liked" one of Evelyn's posts. The next second, Carter called me. He probably saw the notification and thought I was being passive-aggressive. I didn't answer. He texted me instead. "Harper, who are you trying to provoke with that attitude?" "Don't let people misunderstand Evelyn. She was just doing her job." "Unlike that post immediately. Don't force me to freeze your card." Doing her job? Doing her job by murdering someone? I laughed out loud. I opened her Instagram post and left a comment underneath: "The secretary climbs the corporate ladder by withholding the boss's wife's life-saving medical funds. What a brilliant way to get rich off a dead man. I wish you two the best. A btch and a dog, together forever."* Send. Block. Power off. The world was finally peaceful. I started packing my bags. Honestly, there wasn't much to pack. I had lived in this so-called home for three years. The things that actually belonged to me were pitifully few. The walk-in closet was massive. The left side was entirely filled with Carter's bespoke Tom Ford suits. The right side consisted of several locked glass display cabinets. That was where the jewelry and designer bags were kept. The keys and fingerprint access were entirely in Evelyn's possession. Every time I had to attend a gala, I had to submit a "prop request" to Evelyn to check out an item. When I was done, I had to return it. Once, I accidentally got a smudge of dirt on the hem of a gown. Evelyn made me write a three-page apology letter in front of the maids. She also docked my "living expenses" for the following month. Carter stood right there watching, saying casually, "Evelyn is just trying to teach you a lesson. These things are very expensive, Harper. You can't afford to replace them." He was right. I couldn't afford it. I was an orphan. In their eyes, I was "bottom-tier" trash. I opened my little designated corner of the closet. Inside hung a few pilled sweaters and some faded jeans. The only decent thing there... Was the white T-shirt I had worn when I married him three years ago. Back then, I wasn't Mrs. Sterling. I was the youngest physics graduate student at MIT, a genius girl with a limitless future. Carter said he loved my aloof, academic vibe. He said, Harper, marry me. I'll give you a real home. I believed him. I gave up the opportunity to study abroad, ignoring the desperate pleas of my mentor. I washed my hands of science to make soup, locking myself in this gilded cage until I became nothing more than a joke. I stripped off the "cheap flea-market clothes" Carter despised so much. I put on that slightly yellowed white T-shirt. The jeans were a little loose now. Over the past three years, I had lost twenty pounds. I dragged out a battered old suitcase. I packed a few books, a few photos, and my dad's urn. Aside from that. Nothing else in this mansion had anything to do with me. I walked down the stairs. Martha, the housekeeper, was dusting a vase. Seeing me dragging a suitcase, she rolled her eyes. "Running away from home again, Mrs. Sterling?" "Mr. Sterling said that if you walk out those doors this time, don't even think about coming back." "Also, Mr. Sterling wants his bone broth for dinner. Don't forget to make it." In this house. Even the maids looked down on me. Because they knew that I, the supposed lady of the house, didn't even have the authority to sign their paychecks. Hell, my "allowance" was less than their monthly salary. I stopped walking and looked at Martha. "Make the soup yourself." "Or better yet, have Evelyn make it." Martha froze. She had clearly never seen me act with a spine before. "Excuse me? What kind of attitude is that? See if I don't tell Mr. Sterling—" "Go ahead." I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked out the front doors of the mansion without looking back. The sunlight was a little blinding. I raised a hand to block the glare. Three years. I had finally walked out of this tomb. Carter returned much faster than I expected. He had probably seen my comment and blown a gasket. Not to coax me back. But to seek justice for his precious darling. I couldn't get an Uber near the gated community. A black Maybach screeched to a halt, cutting me off with a deafening squeal of tires. The door flew open. Carter stepped out, his face like a sheet of frost. Evelyn followed close behind him, her eyes red, looking like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. "Harper, what the hell is wrong with you?" Carter grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. "Apologize to Evelyn right now!" "What kind of garbage are you spewing on Instagram? What do you get out of ruining someone's reputation?" I looked at the face that had once made my heart race. Now, all it made me feel was nausea. "Garbage?" I violently yanked my hand out of his grip and stared coldly at Evelyn. "Is it garbage, Evelyn? Don't you know the truth?" "Three days ago, my dad was lying on an operating table waiting for money to save his life." "Secretary Reed rejected my request, claiming the 'format was wrong' and the 'amount was too high'." "Did the CEO know about that?" Carter froze. He obviously didn't know the details. He only knew I was asking for money, and Evelyn had told him it was against protocol. He instinctively looked back at Evelyn. Evelyn shuddered, and the tears instantly began to fall. "Carter... I didn't..." "I was just following the company's financial protocols." "And... and Harper was so aggressive on the phone, I didn't realize it was life-saving money..." "Besides, I told accounting to prep the funds right after! It was Harper who never resubmitted the ticket!" What a sharp tongue. What a brilliant excuse—"never resubmitted." The man was dead. Was I supposed to submit an expense report to the Grim Reaper? Hearing her explanation, Carter’s frown deepened. He turned back to me, his eyes full of disappointment. "Harper, you are such a letdown." "Evelyn was just doing things by the book. Do you really have to be this vicious?" "Isn't your dad's condition just a chronic issue? It couldn't have been that serious." "Just over a little bit of money, you go online and spread vicious rumors about Evelyn. Where are your manners?" Manners? He wanted me to show manners to a murderer? I laughed out of pure fury. "Carter Sterling, you are so blind it's incurable." "Since you believe her so much, we have nothing left to say." "The divorce papers are on the desk in the study. Sign them." I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave. My attitude infuriated Carter. He snatched my suitcase from my hand and slammed it violently against the pavement. The suitcase was old. The zipper burst open. Its contents spilled out all over the ground. A few worn-out clothes. A few physics textbooks. And a black wooden box. The urn rolled a few times before coming to a stop right at Carter's feet. Carter froze. He stared at the box, his pupils contracting sharply. "What is this?" I bent down, carefully picked up the urn, and dusted it off. "This is my dad." "Are you happy now, Carter?"
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