Eight Years of Maybe One Day of I Do—Bride Swapped Deal With It novel Chapter 46

Chapter 1

When my husband noticed I hadn’t sent him a single payment request in a week, he slid a black card across the table.

“You’ve been behaving lately. Cut way back on unnecessary spending.”

“As a reward, I covered your dad’s dialysis.”

That’s me-Mrs. Thorne, wife of the almighty CEO-a woman who has to get approval just to buy a five-dollar pack of pads.

But what he doesn’t know?

My dad’s already dead.

Killed by the woman who deliberately rejected my request for his treatment funds-his assistant, his precious “first love.”

Her reason? “Women with money go bad. Stop being so greedy!”

The memory made me laugh bitterly inside.

I took the card, pulled on that same coat I’d worn for three years, and walked out the door.

What Dominic still doesn’t know is that I’ve already signed the divorce papers.

I don’t need to be his caged animal anymore.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Elena Cross popped up on the screen, dripping with condescension.

“I’ve reinstated your dad’s treatment. Learn to behave. Stop lying to squeeze extra money out of us.”

“I know people from your background have it rough, but my money isn’t something you can just con out of me.”

I stared at those two lines, weirdly calm.

I typed back one word: “K.”

I set my phone down and signed the divorce papers sitting in front of me.

Elena probably thought I hadn’t asked her to reimburse anything for three days because I was giving her the silent treatment-you know, the

classic “cold war” move.

Made sense. For the past three years, I’d been completely powerless, doing whatever it took to cover Dad’s medical bills.

I had zero income.

Dominic wouldn’t let me work. He said it was embarrassing for Mrs. Thorne to be out there “making a spectacle of herself.”

But he also wouldn’t give me an allowance.

Every cent I spent had to go through his company’s approval system.

60%

Chapter 1

Groceries? Needed approval.

Pads? Needed approval.

Even a few bucks for the subway required uploading a receipt.

The person reviewing everything?

His personal secretary, Elena Cross-that woman who’d been glued to his side since college, acting like she was some kind of “soulmate.”

Three days ago.

The hospital issued a critical condition notice.

Dad had a brain hemorrhage and needed surgery immediately.

Two hundred thousand dollars.

For Dominic Thorne, that was the cost of one bottle of wine.

I called him like a maniac, tried a dozen times before someone finally picked up.

But it wasn’t Dominic. It was Elena.

“Hadley, Dominic’s in a meeting. What’s the emergency?”

I didn’t care about politeness. I was crying, begging. “Elena, let me talk to Dominic. My dad’s dying. I need two hundred thousand for surgery!”

I froze. On the other end of the line, Elena just let out a soft laugh.

“Hadley, you know the company rules.”

“Two hundred grand isn’t pocket change. You have to submit it through the OA.”

“Dominic hates people who break the rules. If you just ask for money like this, he’ll be pissed.”

“Go submit a request in the system. I’ll approve it as soon as I see it.”

She hung up.

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