What Happens At The End Of Scared Money Don’T Make Money?

Sometimes love demands a second chance, but it will never be bought, no matter the amount. Michael Carrington promised himself after losing his wife that he was done with love. No more investing in anything he wasn’t capable of walking away. Sex and high-dollar business deals would become the center of his world. Throw in a touch of danger, and he has all he needs outside of a new assistant. Rainey Foster has finally graduated college, and as a struggling single mom, she just needs someone to give her a chance. She’s willing to go all in with the right employer, as long as the buck stops there. He can have her time, her commitment and her attention, but no one will ever have her heart again. She thinks she has things figured out until she comes face to face with the illustrious Michael Carrington. Powerful. Confident. Sexy as all get out. Lust might ignite the flame between them, but love will have its way.

Grace was the perfect wife for three years, enduring Sebastien Montgomery’s contempt and the humiliations inflicted by his family. He treated her like a shadow, convinced that she had “trapped” him while he remained obsessed with the glamorous Katerina. The night Grace discovered she was pregnant, Sebastien threw the divorce papers at her: “Katerina is back. I don’t need you anymore.” He thought she would sink into misery. He didn’t know that Grace was the long-lost heiress to a billion-dollar empire. Two years later, the hunter becomes the hunted. Sebastien, on the brink of bankruptcy, desperately seeks an anonymous investor to save his company. When the office doors open, he doesn’t find the submissive girl he left behind. He finds a powerful, radiant woman. But she isn’t alone. Dominic Rossi, Sebastien’s most ruthless rival and the man who now controls the market, wraps his arm possessively around Grace’s waist. An adorable little boy runs toward him shouting, “Daddy, look at my new car!” Sebastien feels the world crashing down on him as he recognizes his own eyes in the little boy. On his knees, his voice breaking, he pleads: “Grace, please… he’s my son. Let me fix this.” Dominic looks at him with icy contempt as Grace signs the purchase order: “You’re too late, Montgomery. The boy already has a real father… and I already own your empire.”

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

My husband is poor. We've already been married for three years, but I've covered all our expenses during that time. Even when I'm interested in a cheap bag when we go shopping, he says it's too expensive. He tells me not to buy it. Later, I discover that he gives his first love a four-million-dollar diamond necklace for her birthday. It turns out he's not broke and heavily in debt—he's the heir to an affluent family with a net worth of billions of dollars.

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. The penthouse in Ashbourne City is yours." I burn the divorce agreement—and that's when he finally shows his true colors. He freezes all my accounts and launches a hostile takeover of my gallery. On the night the storm hits, I get a call from the hospital. My sister, Roberta Slater, has been in a car crash—she needs emergency surgery. In the security footage, he stood there, watching coldly. "Sign the papers, or start planning a funeral." I dropped to my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor, blood trailing down my face as I begged, "Micah, please… don't…" A long, flat beep echoed from the other end of the line, slicing through the sound of rain. Then a voice on the line says, "We did everything we could." However, I have gone back in time—to the day I first found out about Rowena. This time, I no longer cry. Instead, I plan my divorce on my own terms. I call Valebrook Bank that same night and begin preparing for a quiet disappearance. But the moment I truly vanish from his world, Micah loses his mind.