My Ex Wants Me Back With Blood Money

Brenda Marsh, Adriana Hampton's secretary, was left speechless by my words. Her expression darkened.

"Isaac Graham, don't be so ungrateful! You should be thanking your lucky stars that Ms. Hampton is even willing to give you a hand!"

"Whoa, what's all this about?"

The store manager, Mr. Joey Finley, heard the commotion and hurried out from behind the shelves. With a placating smile, he pressed a bottle of beer into Brenda's hand.

"Hey now, gorgeous, no need to get so worked up. Isaac's been going through some family issues lately and hasn't been in the best of moods. Please don't take it personally.

"Besides, that card is way too valuable. He's genuinely afraid to accept it, like it might bring him bad luck or something."

As he spoke, he stepped in front of me to shield me.

Brenda disdainfully shoved away the beer Mr. Finley offered and let out a contemptuous snort.

"Ms. Hampton's sentiments were conveyed. It's Isaac who was stupid enough to turn it down. Some people just don't know a good thing when they see it."

With that, she turned and pushed open the door, stepping out into the pouring rain. As she made her way toward the expensive black Maybach parked across the street, its rear window rolled down slowly.

Someone was watching me quietly through the rain, their gaze cold and distant.

The orphan girl who once trailed behind me, promising she'd marry me someday, had now become an untouchable finance elite.

And here I was, wiping down the shelves with grimy hands—the very picture of lowly, washed-up nobody.

Mr. Finley turned and looked at me with concern. He hesitated for a long moment before finally asking, "Isaac, from what you said earlier, is that the ungrateful wretch who ran off with your family's money and got your mother killed?"

I froze.

Inside the trash can, the black card gleamed coldly under the fluorescent lights. It was just like the cold, indifferent moon in the sky three years ago, when I begged Adriana not to leave.

"Yes."

My thoughts drifted back to that snow-blinding winter.

When Adriana was little, her parents died in a car crash. My mother, Sarah Gardner, couldn't bear to watch a child freeze to death in the dead of winter, so she took her in.

From then on, we all lived together under one roof.

But one day, my family went bankrupt. The three of us squeezed into a cramped little rental, and every day Adriana and I worried ourselves sick about the future.

Mom would stroke our heads and say with a smile, "As long as we are together, it's okay even if life is a little hard. Things will get better."

And her way of making things better was to sell snacks at the school gate in the morning, wash dishes at a restaurant in the afternoon, and work retail on the main street at night.

Mom raised us while paying off debts and scraping together every penny at the same time.

Three years ago, Adriana said she had to go out of town for an important job interview.

No sooner had she left than Mom collapsed. Years of overwork had finally worn her down.

I ran all the way to the hospital with Mom on my back. The doctor said she needed emergency surgery and told me to pay the bill.

For years, Mom had worked herself to the bone. She hid money from the debt collectors and managed to save 300 thousand dollars for my and Adriana's education.

She even set the PIN as a combination of our birthdays.

I sprinted to the payment window with the card in hand, pushing myself to go faster and faster.

But when I swiped it, the balance on the screen read three dollars.

I refused to believe it. Gritting my teeth, I unlocked Mom's phone and checked the transaction history.

Late last night, the entire 300 thousand dollars had been withdrawn in one lump sum and transferred to an overseas account.

There was also a text message that had come in two hours earlier.

"Mrs. Graham, I've found an opportunity overseas to reclaim my family's assets, so I borrowed the 300 thousand dollars. When I come back, I'll pay you back 100 times over."