Won the Jackpot, Lost My Cheating Wife

"Go on, then! Call the cops! You owe 100 million to the loan sharks. If the police come, they'll arrest you first, you fraudster!" Meryl shot back angrily.

She stood with her hands on her hips and turned toward the crowd watching the spectacle.

She raised her voice and continued, "Everybody here, listen up! This good-for-nothing here lost 100 million gambling on soccer, and now he's trying to scam me, his mother-in-law, out of 800 dollars! A heartless scumbag like him should go to hell!'

Whispers immediately spread through the crowd. Even a few older men who regularly bought lottery tickets at my shop started shooting me judgmental glances.

"He always seemed pretty honest. Who knew he'd gamble so recklessly?"

"Well, you never know. 100 million dollars, huh? He's going to rot in prison for that."

Celia held up her phone and pointed the camera straight at me.

Comments flooded into the livestream in an endless torrent. The people on the internet insulted me, saying I was a scumbag, an addict, and a pathetic loser.

Celia sniffled softly and said, "Zac, I didn't come here today to fight with you. As long as you sign that debt assumption agreement and admit that the 100 million dollars is your personal debt, I'll leave immediately and never bother you again.

"I'm pregnant right now. I really can't handle you tormenting me like this anymore."

After saying that, she deliberately jutted her stomach out a little, which instantly drew another wave of sympathy and donations in the livestream.

Watching her disgusting performance made my stomach churn.

I mocked, "You're carrying Edwin's child. If you can't handle the stress, go find him. Why come to my shop and put on an act?"

My voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for everyone around us—and everyone in the livestream—to hear what I said clearly.

The crowd fell silent for a second before gossiping even louder.

Celia's expression stiffened instantly, and panic flashed across her eyes.

Still, she quickly composed herself with tears streaming down her face. "Y-You're just trying to shirk from responsibility. That's why you slandered me! What kind of a man are you? You're the one who couldn't perform, and now you're accusing me unfairly!"

Meryl lost it upon hearing that. She charged at me, clawing at my clothes.

She screeched, "You heartless bastard! You're the infertile one, and you still dare throw dirt on Celia?"

Just then, an anxious voice came from outside the crowd.

"Zac? What's the matter? What's going on here?"

I turned sharply and saw my mother, Darla Ford, carrying a thermal container as she pushed her way through the crowd. She had gone to the hospital for a blood pressure checkup today. So, she decided she'd stop by to bring me some soup she'd made.

The moment she saw the wrecked shop and the shattered television on the floor, her hands started trembling in panic.

"Meryl, we're in-laws. We can always talk it out if there's an issue. How can you damage the shop?" Mom hurried forward to grab Meryl's hand.

Meryl desperately needed a release for all the pent-up anger she was harboring. The moment she saw Mom, she sneered and shook her hand off forcefully.

Derisively, she said, "In-laws? Look at what your son did! He owes the loan sharks 100 million dollars and wants to drag Celia along to pay it for him!"

Mom froze, and her face turned deathly pale. "What? 100 million? Zac, what's going on?"

I quickly stepped forward to support her and lowered my voice to explain, "Mom, don't listen to her nonsense. It's Timmy's debt. It has nothing to do with me."

Celia refused to let it go.

Holding up her phone, she shoved the camera into Mom's face rudely while exclaiming, "Take a good look, everyone! This is the gambler's mother. Like mother, like son. It's no wonder she raised such a scumbag!"

The phone's flash was so bright that Mom could barely open her eyes. Her body trembled uncontrollably.

"Please stop this, Celia. Zac doesn't have any vices—he doesn't even smoke! How could he possibly gamble? Aren't you pregnant? Let's sit down and talk calmly. It's not good for the baby if you're so riled up," Mom pleaded earnestly, still full of concern about the baby in her belly.

Upon hearing that, a cruel smile played on Celia's lips.

She leaned close to Mom and lowered her voice to slowly say, "I'll tell you the truth, old hag. The baby in my belly was never your son's. It's the child of his buddy, Edwin Grant. Your family's lineage is doomed to die out, and you deserve it!"

Mom's eyes widened. Her lips trembled violently, and strange rattling sounds came from her throat. She clutched her chest, gasping for air as her face instantly turned a dark purplish red.

"Mom? What's wrong, Mom?" I panicked and caught Mom as her body swayed weakly.

Meryl rolled her eyes and mocked sarcastically from the side, "Oh, please, what kind of dying act is this? Are you trying to scam us?"

She reached out and shoved Mom hard again. "Hurry up and get lost! Stop getting in the way!"

That shove was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Mom's eyes rolled back, and her body collapsed limply to the ground. The thermal container fell from her hands, and the soup inside it spilled all over the floor.

"Mom!" I cried.

My eyes widened with panic as I dropped to my knees and desperately tried to revive her.

Someone in the crowd shouted, "Call an ambulance! The old lady passed out!"

Even then, Celia showed not the slightest trace of guilt. Instead, she stepped back and continued playing the victim toward the camera.

"Guys, did you see that? Their whole family is working together to put on a show to intimidate me, a pregnant woman," she claimed shamelessly.

Just as I waited in despair for the ambulance, an extremely flashy Porsche Panamera screeched to a stop in front of the shop.

The car door opened, and Edwin stepped out wearing a custom-tailored suit and sunglasses, looking incredibly smug. He walked over to Celia and naturally wrapped an arm around her waist. Then, he kissed her on the forehead.

He looked down at me, who was kneeling on the floor, and casually pulled out several stacks of 100-dollar bills from his pocket to throw them in my face.

"As your friend, don't say I didn't help you. Take that money and use it to pay for your mom's treatment. As for the rest, consider it my gift for buying formula for the baby in Celia's belly," Edwin said.