Marrying My Fake Husband's Rival
Language: en
They call me a gold digger. It’s the label that has defined me ever since my wedding day, when I halted the ceremony and refused to walk down the aisle unless my groom—the sole heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire—handed over half a million dollars in cold, hard cash. From that day on, in Christian’s eyes, every breath I took had a transaction fee. If I made sure his dinner was warm when he came home late, I was looking for a handout. If I fell ill, I was staging a tragedy to solicit a wire transfer. Even when I worked eighty-hour weeks at Albright Industries, refusing a salary to…