Husband Dead, Millions in Hand...But Wait—He'd Loved Me a Decade! - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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"Olivia, will you marry me?"
"A contract marriage. One year. One million dollars, plus daily expenses."
I excitedly agreed.
But then one year rolled into the next. Ten years passed, James never once mentioned divorce.
Just when I was starting to wonder if he'd fallen for me, he died—leaving me seventy million dollars.
Hooray!
Rich, no husband, no kids—hello, dream life!
A few weeks later, a package arrived with Jackson's stuff—a fancy AI dog.
For kicks, I called it "James Bennett."
Out of my expectation, the damn thing actually responded—
The crazier part? It said:
"Olivia, I loved you."
On our tenth wedding anniversary, James Bennett died.
His eyes found mine as before his last breath.
"Olivia, anything you wanna say to me?"
I blanked for a second then word-vomited: "Don't forget to wire my million for this year."
Dead or not, a paycheck's a paycheck.
I'm hardcore about my money.
After a moment of silence, James suddenly smiled, his cloudy eyes brightening.
"That's my girl. Never change."
I wanted to smile back, maybe toss out our usual banter.
But James had checked out.
No amount of "Hey" or "James?" would wake him.
The smile froze on my face.
"See ya, James."
I watched them wheel him away. Stood through the whole funeral thing without shedding a single tear.
Until his brother, Ethan, handed me a box.
Inside was a card with seventy million and a robo-dog.
"From James," Ethan said softly.
My poker face cracked—not from grief, but pure joy.
But wait—Ten years of payments already in the bank. Why leave me seventy million more?
"All this...for me?" I managed.
Ethan nodded. "His will was clear."
And then, he even tried to comfort me.
"Don't be too sad about it."
Sad? I wasn't sad at ALL!
I was fighting the urge to do a happy dance right there in my funeral dress!
No clue why James dropped this fortune in my lap.
Guilt trip from beyond? Pity party?
Whatever.
The guy always did have a marshmallow center.
Ten years back, I pulled a knife on him for cash.
Instead of calling the police, he just looked at me calmly, "Cash problems? I can offer you a job."
That "job" was to marry him.
His pitch: no funny business, just a paper marriage to ghost his parents' marriage obsession.
I bit.
Marriage was whatever—money was everything.
But James was always apologizing to me. Said he was sorry for "wasting my youth".
He was truly soft-hearted.
So yeah, seventy million tracks for a guy like him.
Rule 1 in my book: only suckers turn down free money.
I accepted it without hesitation.
Too busy drooling over my new millionaire status to even notice the basic AF robot dog in the box.
Sprawled on our massive couch, I kept refreshing the banking app.
"James! Seventy mil!" I said to the empty room, "Should I buy an island or what?"
Silence hit me like a truck.
Right. James was gone.
And it was freakin' awesome!
No more watchdog. No more behavior police.
Freedom!
First days as Mrs. Bennett, I went full revenge-shopping psycho.
One-bite cake abandonment.
Jewelry you could see from space.
Dropping cash on designer everything just to flex.
The whispers were brutal. "Gold-digger." "No class." "Poor James."
But he just smiled and started checking for any injuries.
"Did you eat too much? Are those earrings too heavy for your ears? Those high heels gave you blisters, didn't they?"
He'd place my feet on his lap and gently clean my wounds with antiseptic.
"Olivia," he'd say softly.
"Money trick nobody tells you, Olivia—it's supposed to make life better, not give you blisters."
Later, he basically became my personal life coach—mapping out everything from study sessions to fun time, meal plans to workout routines. Every tiny detail.
Under his influence, I went from total hot mess to absolute queen.
Everyone was convinced James was head-over-heels, crazy-stupid in love with me!
Everyone bought the fairytale—poor girl hits the James Bennett jackpot.
But I knew better.
He didn't love me. He just needed a suitable wife.
Now he's gone, and Mrs. Bennett is officially retired!
Rich, no husband, no kids—Hello! dream life!
"A contract marriage. One year. One million dollars, plus daily expenses."
I excitedly agreed.
But then one year rolled into the next. Ten years passed, James never once mentioned divorce.
Just when I was starting to wonder if he'd fallen for me, he died—leaving me seventy million dollars.
Hooray!
Rich, no husband, no kids—hello, dream life!
A few weeks later, a package arrived with Jackson's stuff—a fancy AI dog.
For kicks, I called it "James Bennett."
Out of my expectation, the damn thing actually responded—
The crazier part? It said:
"Olivia, I loved you."
On our tenth wedding anniversary, James Bennett died.
His eyes found mine as before his last breath.
"Olivia, anything you wanna say to me?"
I blanked for a second then word-vomited: "Don't forget to wire my million for this year."
Dead or not, a paycheck's a paycheck.
I'm hardcore about my money.
After a moment of silence, James suddenly smiled, his cloudy eyes brightening.
"That's my girl. Never change."
I wanted to smile back, maybe toss out our usual banter.
But James had checked out.
No amount of "Hey" or "James?" would wake him.
The smile froze on my face.
"See ya, James."
I watched them wheel him away. Stood through the whole funeral thing without shedding a single tear.
Until his brother, Ethan, handed me a box.
Inside was a card with seventy million and a robo-dog.
"From James," Ethan said softly.
My poker face cracked—not from grief, but pure joy.
But wait—Ten years of payments already in the bank. Why leave me seventy million more?
"All this...for me?" I managed.
Ethan nodded. "His will was clear."
And then, he even tried to comfort me.
"Don't be too sad about it."
Sad? I wasn't sad at ALL!
I was fighting the urge to do a happy dance right there in my funeral dress!
No clue why James dropped this fortune in my lap.
Guilt trip from beyond? Pity party?
Whatever.
The guy always did have a marshmallow center.
Ten years back, I pulled a knife on him for cash.
Instead of calling the police, he just looked at me calmly, "Cash problems? I can offer you a job."
That "job" was to marry him.
His pitch: no funny business, just a paper marriage to ghost his parents' marriage obsession.
I bit.
Marriage was whatever—money was everything.
But James was always apologizing to me. Said he was sorry for "wasting my youth".
He was truly soft-hearted.
So yeah, seventy million tracks for a guy like him.
Rule 1 in my book: only suckers turn down free money.
I accepted it without hesitation.
Too busy drooling over my new millionaire status to even notice the basic AF robot dog in the box.
Sprawled on our massive couch, I kept refreshing the banking app.
"James! Seventy mil!" I said to the empty room, "Should I buy an island or what?"
Silence hit me like a truck.
Right. James was gone.
And it was freakin' awesome!
No more watchdog. No more behavior police.
Freedom!
First days as Mrs. Bennett, I went full revenge-shopping psycho.
One-bite cake abandonment.
Jewelry you could see from space.
Dropping cash on designer everything just to flex.
The whispers were brutal. "Gold-digger." "No class." "Poor James."
But he just smiled and started checking for any injuries.
"Did you eat too much? Are those earrings too heavy for your ears? Those high heels gave you blisters, didn't they?"
He'd place my feet on his lap and gently clean my wounds with antiseptic.
"Olivia," he'd say softly.
"Money trick nobody tells you, Olivia—it's supposed to make life better, not give you blisters."
Later, he basically became my personal life coach—mapping out everything from study sessions to fun time, meal plans to workout routines. Every tiny detail.
Under his influence, I went from total hot mess to absolute queen.
Everyone was convinced James was head-over-heels, crazy-stupid in love with me!
Everyone bought the fairytale—poor girl hits the James Bennett jackpot.
But I knew better.
He didn't love me. He just needed a suitable wife.
Now he's gone, and Mrs. Bennett is officially retired!
Rich, no husband, no kids—Hello! dream life!
End of Husband Dead, Millions in Hand...But Wait—He'd Loved Me a Decade! Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to Husband Dead, Millions in Hand...But Wait—He'd Loved Me a Decade! book page.