Chapter 4Penniless in a Penthouse: My Billionaire Husband's Three Million Dollar Lie

"Mr. Sterling said that if you ask for money again, your living expenses for next month will be cut in half."

Immediately following the text was a transfer notification for thirty dollars.

I stared at the transaction record for a long, long time before finally clicking 'Accept'.

At least my breakfast was secured.

But this marriage—where I couldn't even secure a full stomach through begging—was suffocating me to death.

After agonizing over it for a long time, I finally sent Carter a text.

"Since you can't afford to provide for me, let's get a divorce."

That evening, I arrived at the bar for my part-time shift as scheduled.

After changing into a black and red uniform, I sat in the breakroom, eating a cheap hot dog I had bought on the way.

The manager held his phone, glancing between the screen and my face.

"You know, you look exactly like the wife of the Sterling Group's CEO. Are you sure you don't have some ulterior motive being here?"

I waved my hand and took a bite of my hot dog.

"You've got the wrong person. I'm no billionaire's wife."

He looked me up and down and let out a sigh of relief.

"Make sense. No matter what happens, a billionaire's wife wouldn't sink to looking like you."

"Hurry up and finish eating. Get to work."

It was my first day on the job, and I was pretty clumsy.

The shift leader was walking me through my daily tasks, but there were too many customers tonight, and he was overwhelmed.

"Sydney, take this bottle of liquor to VIP Room 8. Don't make the guests wait."

I took the bottle, feeling incredibly anxious as I checked the room numbers one by one.

Every now and then, a drunk customer would try to hit on me.

At the very end of the hallway, I finally found VIP Room 8.

Just as I was about to push the door open, I saw a figure I recognized instantly sitting on the leather sofa.

Carter.

It looked like he had been drinking heavily. A man who usually held his liquor incredibly well now had a flush on his cheeks.

Right now, he was only wearing a black dress shirt, the top two buttons undone.

He leaned lazily against the sofa, raising a hand to light a cigarette.

"Is a five-hundred-thousand-dollar monthly allowance too little for a wife?"

The friend sitting next to him snapped his head up.

"I didn't mishear that, did I? Half a million a month isn't enough for your wife?"

I recognized this man. It was Carter’s childhood best friend, Mason Brooks. I had met him a few times.

Carter exhaled a ring of smoke and gave a flat "yeah."

"I originally thought that because she was abused by her gambling addict father growing up, she wouldn't spend recklessly even if she had money."

"But Secretary Vance says she blows through her allowance every month, frequently visits luxury nightclubs, and never stops shopping for a single day."

Mason practically jumped off the sofa in shock.

"Bro, is your wife keeping a sugar boy on the side? I never expected someone who looks so quiet and innocent to be playing the field so hard in private."

Carter finally turned his head to look at him.

He narrowed his eyes and crushed his cigarette into the ashtray.

"These past few days, she's been getting more and more out of hand. She even claimed she was pregnant, demanding Secretary Vance wire her money constantly."

"Last night she put on a pathetic act, crying about being broke. I had no choice but to have someone wire her another hundred and fifty grand."

He paused and downed the liquor in his glass in one gulp.

"But this morning, she texted me saying if I couldn't afford her, I shouldn't keep her. She even asked for a divorce."

Standing outside the door, I absorbed every single word.

If I hadn't opened my own banking app and stared at the $150 deposits I received every month, I almost would have believed him.

If it wasn't me receiving the money, then it was someone else.

Trembling with absolute rage and unable to suppress it a second longer, I violently shoved the door open.

When Carter saw me, he completely froze.

"Sydney? What are you doing here?"

Mason’s face drained of color as he instinctively stepped in front of Carter. "Sydney, please, calm down."