Marrying My Fake Husband's Rival
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Summary
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.
