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Seven Months Pregnant, My Billionaire Husband Billed Me for Our Home Novel Cover

Seven Months Pregnant, My Billionaire Husband Billed Me for Our Home

After enduring years of poverty, Jordan Simmons built a massive empire. But wealth has poisoned him. When his pregnant wife takes three thousand dollars for a prenatal checkup, Jordan retaliates by calling the police, accusing her of withholding funds during his father's final days. While he lavishes his intern with multi-million-dollar gifts, his heartbroken, pregnant wife willingly surrenders to the law, ready to face arrest rather than endure his cruel vengeance.
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Chapter 3

I froze.

My stomach was already twisting with hunger.

I was rarely this desperate; even my voice came out pleading.

"Jordan, can we let it go this time?"

"No."

"Jordan…"

I stared at him, dazed.

The payment app on his phone stayed pointed squarely at me.

"We agreed. My money is my money."

"I…"

"By the way."

Jordan scrolled through his statements.

"After you passed out at the station, there was another twenty-five hundred in medical fees.

"The officer covered it for you. I paid her back.

"When are you planning to pay me back?"

My hand clenched tight around the hem of my shirt.

The other rested awkwardly on my belly.

"I don't have any money."

My voice was so small I could barely hear it myself.

"If you don't have money."

Jordan sighed.

"Then you don't get to eat this meal."

"Jordan, I…"

"Charity Chavez, take it away."

"Wait!"

My hand shot to Charity's arm.

I turned back to him, eyes red.

"Can I put it on a tab?"

Jordan didn't answer.

My voice cracked.

"I'm begging you…"

Charity's hand stopped where it was.

She looked at Jordan, uncertain.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

The next second.

The calculator on Jordan's phone was in front of my face.

"Going by the current bank lending rate, I'll set you an annual rate of three percent, a monthly rate of zero point two five percent.

"Your nutrition fees and hospital fees come to six thousand dollars.

"If you clear it within three months, in the end you'll owe me

"six thousand and forty-five dollars."

"Jordan…"

My voice wouldn't stop shaking.

"Do you really have to work this out down to the last cent with me?"

Jordan's eyes narrowed.

"Not down to the last cent enough."

My fist trembled.

I forced the words out.

"I can't come up with that much…"

"Then leave it on account. Compounding interest."

An IOU was set on the table.

"Pay it in three months, it's six thousand and forty-five.

"Pay it in half a year, it's six thousand and ninety.

"In a year, it's six thousand one hundred and eighty.

"Whenever you pay, that's when the price is set. Work it out for yourself.

"If you agree, sign, and eat."

Looking at that IOU.

My head swam in waves.

My stomach was already cramping from hunger.

With a shaking hand I picked up the pen.

The moment I signed my name.

Jordan set a bowl of porridge in front of me.

"That'll do."

The porridge smelled good.

Steaming hot.

It was the best bowl of porridge I've had in my life.

But I cried while I ate it.

When the meal was over.

I was the one who washed the dishes.

I knocked on the door of Jordan's study.

"The dishes are all washed. Count it as five dollars in wages for me."

He didn't look up.

"Mm."

"If there's nothing else you need me for, I'll go rest."

"Fine."

I braced my lower back and turned to go.

"Ada Fox."

I turned my head.

Another agreement lay on the table.

"The allocation of usage rights for each area of the house. Prudence drew up the agreement."

I picked it up, disbelieving.

Reading the terms out loud, one by one.

"First floor, second floor, third floor, all the private property of Party A, Jordan Simmons.

"Any usage fees incurred by Party B, Ada Fox, during use: thirty dollars per hour.

"Aside from household chores, every other activity incurs a usage fee. Including passing through."

"If you have no questions, sign."

Jordan held the pen out to me.

I put the agreement down.

"Jordan, are you saying I have to pay you rent even to sleep?"

"You don't have to sleep in my areas."

I froze.

He pointed at the supplementary clause.

"The fourth-floor attic is a shared marital area for Party A and Party B. Party B, Ada Fox, may use it free of any usage fee."

"The attic…"

My voice shook.

"There's only four square meters up there, and it's stacked with junk…"

Jordan didn't look up.

"Then you can keep signing IOUs."

I said nothing more.

I lowered my head.

And signed at the bottom.

The moment the last stroke was done.

My tears landed on it too.

"It's signed."

He took it.

The pad of his thumb brushed that little smear of tears.

He didn't care.

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