Husband Dead, Millions in Hand...But Wait—He'd Loved Me a Decade! - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

The girl turned, gave him a withering look, grabbed her trash bag and split.
He followed at a distance, watching her hunt for bottles across campus, dragging that massive bag like it was nothing.
Kids stared and whispered. She didn't give a damn.
When he tried approaching, she went nuclear.
"Quit stalking me, you freak!"
Little James was heartbroken. All he wanted was for her to like him.
So he scraped together every penny of allowance and tried giving it to her.
Big mistake.
"Keep your stupid money, freak!"
James figured she was too proud to take handouts directly.
So he started stuffing money into empty bottles and plant them in her usual dumpster spots.
Bingo.
She'd light up finding the "lucky" bottles, sometimes splurging on a cupcake.
But his father caught on.
Thinking James was developing an unhealthy obsession, he yanked him out of school.
By the time James returned years later, he heard she'd been through hell and disappeared completely...
"First time I saw you, Liv," James said, voice breaking,
"You were just like her. That same heart of gold."
I snorted.
"Heart of gold" was the last thing anyone should pin on me.
I met James working security at a club where businessmen shed their masks after midnight.
Except James.
He sat quietly apart like he'd stumbled into the wrong party.
One wasted exec went psycho, grabbing a hostess by the hair and smashing her face into a glass table. Again and again.
The mix of curses and screams was nauseating.
When I burst in, some skinny guy was already trying to help the half-dead girl.
But he was a twig. The drunk launched him toward a pile of broken glass.
I caught him mid-fall, catching a glimpse of those shocked eyes.
No time to chat—I had to get between the hostess and her attacker.
Couldn't touch paying customers, so I became the human shield instead.
Pretty soon I was bleeding from multiple cuts.
Lucky for everyone, Mr. Psycho passed out.
I scooped up the hostess like it was nothing and headed for the hospital.
James intercepted me, pressing a thick wad of cash into my hand.
"For saving me back there. Get yourself patched up too."
I didn't spend a dime on myself. Gave it all to my mother.
Yeah, the same mother who'd promised to rescue me had finally crawled back.
Her remarriage was a train wreck—couldn't have kids, so her new husband treated her like garbage.
She needed cash because hubby's gambling debts were about to cost him his fingers.
"I don't have a mother," I told her coldly, ignoring her pleas.
She lost it, slapping me hard.
"How dare you judge me! You have no right!"
"This is all YOUR fault! Having you nearly killed me—left me barren! That's why he hates me!"
"Your dad's beatings? If you hadn't whined about that amusement park, he wouldn't have crashed the car and ruined his boxing career!"
"You're cursed, Olivia!"
So that was it.
Dad's hatred, his bitter jealousy when I showed fighting talent...
My body went numb, like my blood was turning to ice.
Mom collapsed against me, sobbing.
"I'm desperate, baby! I gave birth to you—doesn't that count for something? Help me!"
"What exactly do you want me to do?"
"That club's crawling with rich guys... maybe you could... steal something... or rob someone..."
Under my incredulous stare, she averted her eyes, just weeping helplessly.
Pathetic. This whole damn family was pathetic.
Time to cut the cord permanently.
I picked the nastiest regular at the club as my target.
When he went to the bathroom, I placed an "Out of Order" sign on the door, pulled my knife, and prepared to shake him down.
Just as I was about to strike, James appeared.
He draped his jacket over my knife hand and guided me toward the exit.
I froze momentarily, knife now pressed against his side, then hissed, "Mind your own business or I'll stab you and clean out your wallet!"
James didn't even flinch.
He just asked calmly, "I have a job offer—a million dollars a year. Interested?"