My Husband Married Me For Ten Million Dollars

I stood by the window, hands clenched into fists, watching as Louis’s black car pulled into the driveway.

My chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. My entire body trembled—not with fear, but fury. The kind of fury that comes after betrayal so deep, it scars your soul.

“Catherine,” Alan said beside me, his voice calm but firm, “you don’t have to face him alone. I can stay.”

I shook my head slowly. “No. I want to do this alone.”

Alan hesitated, clearly torn, but he knew me too well. With a reluctant nod, he walked out the front door, passing Louis on his way. I didn’t hear what they exchanged, but I saw Alan stop and say something that made Louis’s jaw tighten. Good. Let him feel the heat.

A few seconds later, a knock came at the door. I didn’t rush. I made him wait then I opened it.

Louis stood there, slightly disheveled, as if he hadn’t slept properly. His eyes scanned me from head to toe—taking in my fitted jeans, white blouse, bare face. There was no weakness in my expression this time. No tears. No longing. Just fire.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“You already came into my life, Louis. And wrecked it. So what’s one more intrusion?”

He sighed. “Please.”

I stepped aside silently and let him in. He walked to the center of the living room and turned to face me.

“We need to talk.”

“I know.”

“You found the email.”

“Straight to the point,” I said with a dry laugh. “That’s new for you.”

“Catherine, let me explain—”

“You married me for ten million dollars,” I cut in, voice trembling. “Explain that.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t want the money. Your father—he insisted.”

“And you just… what? Agreed? Married me like a business deal?”

“I fell for you!” he said desperately. “After we got engaged—after we spent time together—I loved you. That was real.”

I scoffed. “Real? You left me in a hospital bed. Alone. Bleeding. Where was that love then?”

He flinched. “I made mistakes.”

“No,” I whispered, eyes narrowing. “You made choices. And now you’re here trying to fix them because I finally stood up for myself.”

“I’m here because I regret it.”

I crossed my arms, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Do you know what it felt like to find out I was just part of some transaction? That my father basically bought you?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I was young, ambitious, and desperate to prove myself. Your father offered to fund my startup in exchange for marrying you. I didn’t see the harm. I thought I could learn to love you—and I did, Catherine. I swear, I did.”

“Then why Lillian?”

He didn’t answer.

I shook my head. “That’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t plan to fall for her,” he said weakly. “She was just there, offering what I thought I needed. But after what happened with the miscarriage, I panicked. I didn’t know how to deal with it. You were hurting, and I didn’t know how to comfort you. I felt like a failure—”

“So you decided to punish me?” I snapped. “By replacing me with a woman who never earned her place?”

“I didn’t replace you,” he said softly. “I ran from you. Because being with you made me face everything I hated about myself.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I hissed, stepping closer. “That you couldn’t handle my grief because it forced you to look at your own ugliness?”

He looked down. “No. But I want to make it right.”

“You can’t,” I said. “There’s no undoing what you did.”

“I know you want revenge,” he said. “I get it. But freezing my accounts, exposing the affair—what do you gain from that?”

I smiled bitterly. “Freedom. Power. The satisfaction of watching you crumble, the same way I did.”

His jaw clenched. “You’re not that kind of person.”

“You don’t know who I am anymore,” I said coldly. “You stopped seeing me the moment I stopped serving your narrative.”

He stepped forward. “Catherine, I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just want the truth between us. No lies. No lawyers. No bitterness. Just… closure.”

Closure. The word stung through my chest..

“Fine,” I said after a long pause. “You want the truth? Here’s mine.”

I walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a red folder. “These are my conditions. You sign over 40% of your company shares to me. You give up the condo, the car, and drop any claims to my remaining inheritance. In return, I’ll sign the divorce papers. Quietly.”

He stared at me like I’d slapped him. “You’re blackmailing me.”

“I’m negotiating,” I said again, evenly. “Like you negotiated my love for ten million dollars.”

He didn’t speak. Then slowly, he reached for the folder.

“I’ll have my lawyers look at it,” he said.

“No lawyers,” I snapped. “This is between us. You get your freedom, I get what I deserve. If you involve anyone else, I’ll go public. Fully. With the contract, the affair, everything.”

He looked at me, really looked at me, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. I saw fear and guilt.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said quietly.

“But you did,” I replied. “And now you’ll pay for it.”

THAT night, I couldn’t sleep.

Even after he left, even after Alan returned and tried to distract me with jokes and movies, I couldn’t shut off my mind. Louis had broken me once. But what shattered me now was the realization that my own father was part of it. He sold my future. My heart. My trust. And he was dead. Gone. No apologies. No explanations. Just… silence.

I picked up my phone and opened my notes app. Then, with shaking fingers, I typed:

“Dear Dad,

I used to think you were my hero. Now I realize you were just another man who thought he knew what was best for me. But you didn’t. You gave my life to a man who never deserved it. And now I’m the one picking up the pieces. I hope it was worth it.”

I closed my phone and stared at the ceiling. The rage was still there. The heartbreak too. But beneath it all… was purpose. I wasn’t just going to take back what was mine. I was going to rebuild myself into someone untouchable.

THE next day, Alan and I boarded the plane.

Our first stop: Barcelona.

Our goal? A full month of back-to-back performances, starting with the opening gala at the Montclaire Opera House.

Alan leaned back in his seat. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

I looked out the window as the clouds floated past.

“Not just ready,” I said. “I was born for this.”

HOURS later, as we touched down and stepped into the vibrant Spanish sun, my phone buzzed again.

A new message from an unknown number.

“You think you know everything about Louis. But what if the deal wasn’t your father’s idea at all? Meet me at 6pm. Café Dulce. Come alone.”

Attached… was a photo. It was Louis in a hospital room. Standing beside a woman in a hospital bed. Lillian?

No. This woman looked older. Frail. Her face is familiar. Wait. That was… my mother. But she died ten years ago. Didn’t she?

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering in my chest. Nothing made sense. My world tilted again. What the hell was going on?

Alan looked over.

“Everything alright?”

I locked my phone.

“Not even close.”