Chapter 3

When I refused to back down, Brad slapped me.

It was the first time he had ever hit me in our two years of dating and three years of marriage.

That slap woke me up. What was the point of staying in this mess?

I slapped him back and walked out of the country club.

When I got home, I grabbed a suitcase and started packing to go back to the Grant Family Home.

As I was packing, I found the lottery ticket I’d bought a week ago in the pocket of a coat.

It was the day of the drawing.

I pulled out my phone and started checking the numbers one by one.

Two billion… I’d won $20 million!

In that moment, all the hurt, anger, and frustration melted away.

My hands trembled as I reached for my phone to call Brad and share the incredible news.

But just as I was about to dial, I stopped.

He slapped me.

Unless he apologized, I wasn’t forgiving him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to share in my good fortune.

Halfway through packing, I gave up and sat on the couch, waiting for him to come home.

It wasn’t until nearly dark that Brad and Mrs. Rivers stumbled through the door, drunk.

Brad tripped over my suitcase and fell.

When he got up, he seemed a bit more sober. "Sophia, what are you doing?"

"What’s all this? Are you planning to run away?"

Mrs. Rivers rolled her eyes and let out a loud burp. "A useless hen who can’t lay eggs should’ve left a long time ago! Get out of here if you’re going!"

I stood up, shocked, staring at Brad. "You want me gone too?"

Brad pushed me aside and collapsed on the couch. "Yeah, go! Leave! I’m so done with you!"

"Three years of marriage, and still no baby. My buddies think there’s something wrong with me!"

"If I had known you were this useless, I wouldn’t have wasted money marrying you. What a damn waste!"

Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t believe he’d say something so shameless.

When we got married, he’d insisted we couldn’t afford to have kids. Now he was blaming me for not getting pregnant.

At that moment, my heart hit rock bottom.

I left the rest of my packing unfinished, grabbed my suitcase, and went to my parents’ house.

The next morning, Brad called. I thought he might regret everything and ask me to come home.

But the first thing he said was, "Sophia, where the hell are you? The house is a mess, and you haven’t made dinner! Get back here and clean up!"

Typical. I sighed deeply. "Brad, I want a divorce."

There was silence on the other end, and then he burst out laughing.

"Hahaha, great! Let’s get a divorce! Come right now, and we’ll do it!"

I couldn’t believe how eager he was.

From the time we ended the call to when we had the divorce papers in hand, it took less than an hour.

Standing outside the County Clerk’s Office with the divorce certificate in his hand, Brad looked like a new man.

He sneered at me. "Sophia, three years of marriage, and you didn’t even give me a kid. Let’s see who’d want you now."

I looked down at the divorce certificate, suddenly thankful I hadn’t told him about the $20 million lottery win.

For me, the jackpot and the divorce were a double blessing.

Brad had just lost the best thing that ever happened to him, and he didn’t even know it.

Ignoring him, I took my divorce certificate, disguised myself, and headed to the State Lottery Office to collect my $20 million.

A month later, as I sat at home counting my money, I received a summons from the court.

Brad was suing me… Had he found out about my $20 million?

Technically, winnings before a divorce are considered joint marital assets...

Was he trying to claim half?