He Said I Was Greedy, I Showed Him The 500 Transfer Chapter 02

Six months into the marriage, Callum finally came back.

It was his mother’s birthday.

Ms. Hart brought a gown to my room that morning.

Tiny diamonds covered every inch of it. The price tag had more digits than my bank account.

But it was a loaner. One night only.

After the party, it went straight back to the designer, in pristine condition.

I had no jewelry.

Ms. Hart told me the Hastings family jewelry was locked in the vault. Nobody touched it without Callum’s say-so.

“Can I buy something myself?”

“How much do you have left this month?”

“Ninety-three dollars.”

Ms. Hart glanced at the gown.

“Ninety-three dollars doesn’t really match that dress.”

“Then I’ll go without.”

“Mr. Hastings doesn’t like looking bad in public.”

I laughed.

He wouldn’t give me anything nice, but anything cheap was beneath him.

Even dignity was a weapon in this house.

I ordered a thirty-nine-dollar cubic zirconia necklace online.

At the party, Callum’s mother stared at my neck.

“Who is the designer?”

“It’s not designer.”

Someone at the table laughed.

“Callum just hit the billionaire list and his wife’s wearing that?”

His mother turned to her son. “Don’t you give her an allowance?”

Callum swirled his wine. He didn’t even look up.

“I do.”

“She’s the one who’s never happy.”

The table went quiet.

I knew what they were all thinking.

Five years ago, when Callum hit rock bottom, I took thirty million dollars and got into another man’s car.

That was the sin they’d never let me forget.

I didn’t explain.

His mother let out a thin laugh.

“Some women treat a man like trash when he’s broke. Then the second he’s rich, they act like money’s beneath them.”

“That kind of woman is a bottomless pit. No matter what you give her, she’ll always want more.”

A cramp ripped through my stomach.

I white-knuckled my napkin under the table and held on until the party ended.

It was raining when we stepped outside the hotel.

Callum was heading for his car. I ran after him and grabbed his arm.

“Can you give me five hundred dollars?”

He stopped.

“Five hundred?”

“I need to buy medicine.”

Callum looked at my face, pale and rain-soaked, and all I saw in his eyes was amusement.

“Only five hundred this time? Trying a new angle?”

“I just need five hundred.”

“Last time it was thirty million.”

He pulled a stack of cash from his wallet and threw it into the rain.

Bills tumbled down the steps and soaked through in seconds.

“Pick it up.”

I stared at him.

Callum opened the car door.

“I thought you needed money.”

“Get on your knees. Everything on the ground is yours.”

Five years ago, he chased my car down the street.

He stood in the rain and begged me not to choose money over him.

I pressed that thirty-million-dollar check flat against the window and didn’t look back.

Now he was paying me back.

Ms. Hart rushed out and started gathering the bills off the ground.

I stopped her.

“Don’t.”

“But you need the medicine…”

“I don’t need it.”

Callum stood by the car. Something in his expression shifted.

“Not enough?”

I let go of Ms. Hart and walked into the rain.

“It’s dirty.”

Behind me, the car door slammed shut.

On the ride back to the estate, the pain bent me double.

Ms. Hart covered my cab fare and slipped me a box of painkillers without a word.

I wrote it down in my notebook.

She put her hand over mine.

“Don’t write it down.”

“What’ll you say if he asks?”

Ms. Hart paused.

“I’ll tell him the pills were already in the cabinet.”

I closed the notebook.

“You don’t have to lie for me.”

“He wants to watch me hurt. That’s the whole point.”

“Anyone who helps me is just going to get caught in it too.”