Chapter 1The Winning Ticket: Dumping the Leech

When my boyfriend, whose year-end bonus was a measly $4,000, found out I had bought a $12,000 mink coat for the holidays, he went completely ballistic.

"Chloe, are you insane?"

"Is this coat plated in gold or encrusted with diamonds? It costs three times my bonus!"

He grabbed me and aggressively tried to drag me toward the door.

"While the tags are still on, hurry up and come with me to the mall to return it. We can use the refund money to buy holiday gifts for my family."

"My mom's back is acting up; I want to buy her a massage chair. You aren't even married into the family yet. If you don't bleed a little now to show your sincerity, how can you expect my mom to dote on you later?"

"And my sister, she might be talking marriage after she graduates next year. As her sister-in-law, shouldn't you pitch in for her dowry?"

Listening to his self-righteous calculations, I impatiently shook off his hand and seriously scanned the already emptied-out rental apartment.

After winning the $10 million grand prize, I threw away all my old stuff.

It seems the only thing left to toss was this incredibly low-class boyfriend.

...

Seeing me stand still, Arthur got anxious.

"Don't think you can stall by staying silent. What I say goes."

As he spoke, he reached out, trying to yank the mink coat right off my back.

I took a large step backward and smacked his hand away hard.

"Why should I return it?"

"Do I need to submit an application to you to spend my own money on a holiday outfit?"

"What kind of attitude is that!"

Arthur clutched his stinging hand, spit flying from his mouth.

"We are going to get married. There is no 'your money' or 'my money', it's our money!"

"Since it's our money, and you're spending it wrong, why shouldn't I say something?"

"Tell me, what kind of woman is as extravagant as you, spending twelve thousand on a single piece of clothing?!"

The more he spoke, the angrier he got, his finger nearly poking my nose.

"Do you have any idea what that twelve thousand could do?"

"My mom is complaining about back pain; five thousand could buy a very nice massage chair. Another five thousand could buy a gold necklace for my sister, and the remaining two thousand could be used for holiday groceries!"

"And you actually used it to buy clothes. You are truly a spendthrift!"

Hearing the word "spendthrift," I couldn't hold back anymore and slapped him across the face.

Over the past three years, he and his family had thrown that word around countless times.

I wasn't allowed to eat premium jumbo cherries. If I did, I was a "gluttonous spendthrift" in his mother's mouth.

Yet she’d turn around and demand I buy her imported Musang King durians costing hundreds of dollars each, under the guise of "nourishing her body."

I wasn't allowed to drink a $9.90 coffee from Luckin. If I did, I was a "vain spendthrift" in his sister's mouth.

Yet she would use the Starbucks gift card I gave her to post pictures of her "elegant afternoon tea" on social media every day.

I wasn't allowed to take a cab when it rained; I had to squeeze onto the bus or subway. He said a good relationship means sharing hardships, otherwise, I was an ignorant spendthrift!

Yet he’d turn around and demand I withdraw my housing provident fund to pay the down payment on his car.

Not to mention Disney, a place I had always wanted to go. Every year on my birthday, when I brought it up, Arthur would criticize me for being too old to play with children's things, not knowing how to live practically, and being a spendthrift!

In this first love of mine, I always believed that giving was the only way to show true feelings, constantly wronging myself.

I thought my sacrifices would be seen, that sincerity would be met with sincerity.

But what was the result?

His family's life kept getting better and better.

Meanwhile, I, who had been consistently promoted and gotten raises over the past three years, earning $20,000 a month—a high earner among my peers—was wearing cheap clearance clothes from discount sites and eating at street stalls.

Last month, my dad got sick and desperately needed money. I suddenly discovered that my savings were a mere $5,000!

When I asked Arthur for money, he claimed he had put it in a fixed-term deposit and absolutely refused to give me any.

In the end, I had to borrow from my best friend.

Holding the $30,000 I borrowed, I cried like an idiot in the hospital corridor.

After three years of dating, what did I get!

I got absolutely nothing.

And he still had the nerve to call me a spendthrift!

It was utterly ridiculous!

Arthur was stunned by the slap.

It took him a good while to recover.

When he did, he saw that I had already taken a pair of scissors and snipped the tag off the mink coat.

As the tag hit the floor.

Arthur, ignoring the handprint on his face, shrieked with a contorted expression.

"Chloe, are you fucking crazy? Who told you to cut the tag? You can't return it now!"

"How am I supposed to buy gifts for my mom and sister now!"

I ignored his ugly demeanor, my tone calm.

"If I can't return it, I can't return it!"

"Besides, I never intended to!"