My Ex-Husband Threw Millions at My Face, Now He’s Begging for My Son’s Love

My son was dying in the ICU, and I was pulling a double shift as a DoorDash driver at midnight just to pay his medical bills.

I accepted a high-priority, express order to deliver a box of condoms to the penthouse at the Westwood Towerthe most expensive residential building in the city.

When the door opened, my heart stopped.

Standing there was Carter Westwood, my ex-husband of five years.

I froze.

But the desperate need for a five-star rating forced a professional, polite smile onto my face. I handed over the package.

"Your DoorDash order is here, sir. Please leave a five-star review if you're satisfied."

Carters face turned into a storm of complex emotions.

Before he could speak, a pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Amelia Miller, the biological daughter of my former adoptive parents, purred in her sweet, dripping voice:

"I ordered that, babe."

"Carter, you said you didn't want kids yet, so I thought..."

*SLAM!*

Carter snatched the package from my hand and slammed the door shut in my face. Through the heavy wood, I could hear their muffled, intimate whispers.

"I only want my own kids. Tonight, we don't need that."

I stood frozen in the dimly lit hallway, my fingernails digging so hard into my palms that they drew blood.

What Carter didn't know was...

He did have a child. A four-year-old boy, currently clinging to life in the hospital.

***

###

"New delivery offer. Tap to accept."

The loud ping from my phone pulled me back to reality.

None of this mattered anymore.

Leo was still in the hospital waiting for me to make enough money to save his life. I couldn't afford to break down.

The moment I stepped out of the Westwood Tower, the sky opened up, pouring down a torrential rainstorm.

I didn't have a raincoat, and the freezing rain pelted against my skin, stinging like needles.

But the worse the weather, the higher the surge pricing on DoorDash.

Ignoring my shivering body, I slipped my phone into a ziplock bag and rushed back onto my scooter to continue taking orders.

It wasn't until dawn that I finally stopped taking orders, planning to go back to my tiny apartment to take a hot shower and rest.

Suddenly, an unknown number popped up on my screen.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice hoarse.

"Bring me a hot latte. I need to be at the office by eight-thirty."

That voice...

"Carter?"

He let out an impatient, irritated sigh.

"Aren't you a delivery driver? Get it here in thirty minutes, and I'll tip you five hundred dollars."

The line went dead.

I didn't understand what Carter was trying to play at.

But five hundred dollars was more than I could make in a whole day of back-to-back deliveries.

Without hesitation, I rushed to a high-end cafe nearby, bought a premium latte, and drove as fast as I could back to the Westwood Tower.

I rang the doorbell, and Carter opened it almost instantly.

His eyes swept over my dripping wet hair and soaked clothes, a contemptuous smirk playing on his lips.

I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was enjoying this.

The proud Chloe Miller, who had supposedly walked away from him five years ago for a five-million-dollar payout, was now willing to swallow her pride and beg for a mere five-hundred-dollar tip.

My throat felt tight, but I forced a smile and handed over the coffee.

"Your coffee, Mr. Westwood."

Carter took a sip.

His face instantly darkened, and his tone became venomous.

"This coffee taste like cheap trash."

"Chloe, I offered you five hundred dollars to get me a decent drink, not this garbage."

I quickly explained, "That cup cost fifteen dollars, sir. Its not cheap."

But Carter wasn't listening. He sneered, "Get another one."

Then, *SLAM*. He shut the door in my face again.

I had no choice. For that five hundred dollars, I had to ride back out into the freezing rain.

This time, I learned my lesson. I went to the most expensive artisanal coffee shop near the building. A single cup cost thirty-five dollarsa ridiculous price.

But Carter was still not satisfied.

"I wanted an espresso macchiato, not a standard drip. Do it again!"

Another thirty-five dollars down.

But when I delivered the next one, he changed his mind again.

"I don't want a hot coffee anymore. Its too warm in the office. Get me an iced Americano. Do it again!"

"Its too watery. Double shot of espresso. Do it again!"

"You took too long. The ice melted. Do it again!"

...

Again and again.

My wet clothes clung to my shivering body. I was shaking uncontrollably.

Even a fool could see that Carter was doing this on purpose to humiliate me.

I looked at my phone. The entire morning had been wasted.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him, my voice trembling with exhaustion.

"Mr. Westwood, you don't have to play with me like this. I know my life is a mess right now. Just consider it my karma. I don't want the five-hundred-dollar tip anymore. Let's just say I owe you."

"But the six cups of coffee cost me nearly two hundred dollars in total. Can you at least reimburse me for that?"

"I have to go to the hospital this afternoon. I can't waste any more time."

Hearing my words, Carter's expression grew even uglier.

He let out a cold, mocking laugh.

"Losing your patience already? When you were scamming me for my money five years ago, you seemed to have all the patience in the world."

"I get it. A woman like you always has a price."

"Five hundred isn't enough? How about five thousand?"

Before I could reply, Carter pulled out his designer leather wallet.

He grabbed a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and threw them directly at my face.

"Pick it up."

"Consider it a tip from me. Didn't you always love cash more than anything else?"

The bills were brand new.

Their sharp edges whipped against my skin. One of them sliced across my cheek, leaving a thin, stinging cut that began to bleed.

The cash scattered all over the floor. It was way more than five thousand. It was enough to cover Leos chemotherapy for the next two weeks.

Dignity?

Poor people don't have the luxury of dignity.

My heart ached with a sharp, suffocating pain, but I quickly forced myself to go numb.

I knelt down on the cold floor and began picking up the bills one by one.

Suddenly, a black designer shoe stepped heavily onto one of the hundred-dollar bills.

I paused. I looked up, meeting Carter's cold gaze. I forced a shameless, desperate smile.

"Mr. Westwood, I'm sorry."

"Your shoe... seems to be stepping on one of my bills. Would you mind moving your foot?"

Carter's eyes locked onto the bloody scratch on my cheek.

He froze for a fraction of a second, and then quickly looked away.

With a look of pure disgust, he pulled his foot back, turned around, and walked back into his penthouse.

Seeing his cold back, tears finally stung my eyes.

I suddenly remembered a time, long ago, when even a slight cough from me would make this same man panic. He would wrap me in blankets and force me to drink warm soup.

Forget it.

I swallowed the bitterness in my throat.

I got the money. That was all that mattered. Leo was waiting for me at the hospital.

I finished gathering the cash and left quietly.

Inside, Carter walked back to the doorway, holding a cheap band-aid he had frantically dug out of his cabinet. But the hallway was already empty.

He let out a self-deprecating laugh.

*Carter, its been five years. Why are you still so pathetic?*

Just as he was about to throw the band-aid into the trash can, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He slid to answer.

His assistant's hesitant voice came through the speaker.

"Mr. Westwood, we found something."

"Miss Miller... she seems to have a child. The boy is currently in the ICU."

***

###

By the time I rushed to the hospital with a lunch box, it was already one-thirty in the afternoon.

Leo had already eaten and was fast asleep.

I turned to his primary care physician, Dr. Luke Evans, with a grateful smile.

"Dr. Evans, how much was the lunch? I'll Venmo you right now."

"Thank you so much. I got caught up with some work this morning. I'm sorry for making you watch over Leo."

Luke smiled gently and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. It was just some food from the cafeteria. Its nothing. When I saw you hadn't arrived by noon, I knew you must be busy working. So, I grabbed him some lunch."

He stepped closer, his eyes focusing on my left cheek.

"What happened to your face?"

"Did you scrape it while delivering in the rain again?"

Luke reached out, intending to examine the cut.

I flinched, pulling my head back instinctively.

Seeing Luke's hand frozen in mid-air, I realized I had overreacted.

I quickly offered an apologetic smile.

Before I could explain, Luke, ever understanding, smiled warmly.

"You need to treat it, or it will get infected. Its not deep, but you've been out in the rain and dirt. Its better to be safe."

"My shift just ended. Come to my office. I'll clean and disinfect it for you."

I couldn't decline his kindness again. Just as I was about to follow him, someone slammed hard into my shoulder from behind.

Unprepared, I stumbled, and my elbow crashed violently against the cold corridor wall. My entire arm went numb with pain.

"Ah..." I gasped, unable to hold back the pain.

I clutched my throbbing shoulder and looked up.

It was Carter.

Amelia was clinging tightly to his arm.

As if I was just some annoying trash blocking his way, he didn't even look at me. He threw a careless, insincere apology over his shoulder.

"My bad."

And then he kept walking with Amelia.

Amelia, however, turned her head to look at me.

Last night, Carter had blocked her view, so she hadn't seen my face. Today was our first official encounter. Her eyes first landed on my wrinkled, dirty food delivery uniform, and then swept over my miserable state as I clutched my bruised arm.

A smug, mocking smirk appeared on her face. She didn't even think I was worth wasting her words on.

She giggled and leaned closer to Carter as they walked away.

"Chloe, are you okay?"

Luke immediately held my arm to support me.

Seeing how pale I was, his face darkened, and he was about to chase after them.

I grabbed his arm to stop him.

"I'm fine, Luke. They were probably in a rush. He apologized anyway."

"Let it go."

Seeing my stubborn insistence, Luke sighed and nodded. He helped me to his office.

After treating the cut on my cheek, he gave me some ointment for my bruised shoulder.

I thanked him and insisted on paying for the medical supplies. After a brief argument, he finally accepted the money.

Checking the time, I knew I had to get back on the road for the afternoon rush.

But the moment I walked into the hospital parking lot, my heart sank.

The seat of my electric scooter had been slashed to ribbons with a utility knife.

And the entire vehicle was covered in dripping, wet red paint.

"You pathetic gold-digger!"

A sharp, hostile voice echoed from behind me.

Amelia stepped out from the shadows of the concrete pillars. She was holding a bright red box-cutter, a cruel smile on her face.

"Five million dollars, and you already spent it all?"

"What? Are you so broke that you have to come back and... try to seduce Carter again?"

***

###

"Amelia, it was just a coincidence. We ran into each other."

"Hah! Who do you think you're fooling? You already stole twenty years of my life as a fake Miller. Now you want to steal my fianc too? Have you no shame?"

Facing Amelia's accusations, I felt a familiar wave of guilt.

In the eyes of the Miller family, I was the imposter who enjoyed their wealth while Amelia suffered in the foster system. And in my current position, fighting back would only hurt me and Leo.

So, I tried to speak to her as calmly as possible.

"Amelia, I am truly sorry about what happened in the past. But please believe me, today was purely an accident. I will never interfere with your and Carter's lives again."

Amelia clearly didn't believe a word.

She mocked, "I really don't get if you're playing dumb or if you're actually stupid. Carter loved you so much back then. If you had stayed with him, you could have had all the money you wanted. But instead, you chose to run away to Europe with some shady foreign billionaire to be his side-chick."

"Tell me, how much money do you want this time?"

I shook my head violently, my voice tight. "I don't want any money. I will never show up in front of you two again."

"Amelia, you are really misunderstanding this."

"Misunderstanding?"

She laughed loudly, cutting me off.

She pulled out a checkbook from her designer purse, quickly scribbled on it, and shoved it against my chest.

"Here. One million dollars."

"Take it and disappear from Carter's life forever."

I frowned, refusing to touch it.

I couldn't understand why Amelia would suddenly act so "generous."

I remembered the day the Millers kicked me out. Amelia wouldn't even let me take more than two changes of clothes. It was pouring rain, and a kind maid had tried to slip me an umbrella and a warm coat.

Amelia had screamed at her:

"Don't you dare give her anything! Every single thing shes wearing was bought with my family's money! Letting her leave with those rags is already charity!"

Seeing that I wasn't taking the check, Amelia forcefully grabbed my hand and shoved the check into my palm, forcing my fingers to close around it. At the same time, she slipped the open box-cutter into my other hand.

I was startled by her sudden, aggressive movements. I instinctively tried to throw the burning check back at her.

"What are you do"

Before I could finish my sentence.

"Help! Help me!" Amelia suddenly let out a blood-curdling shriek.

"Shes robbing me! She has a knife! Help!"

My entire body went rigid.

In an instant, I realized I had been set up.

Heavy, hurried footsteps and the shouts of security guards echoed from the entrance of the parking lot.

"Stop right there! What's going on over there?"

"Drop the weapon!"

"Get away from her! Weve called the police!"

Everything happened too fast.

Before I could even drop the knife, two security guards and Amelias personal bodyguards rushed forward.

Someone kicked me hard in the back, sending me crashing face-first onto the dirty concrete.

My cheek scraped against the rough ground, sending a blinding flash of pain through my face. I tasted dust and metal.

A heavy security guard pinned me down, locking my arms behind my back.

I was pressed flat against the filthy ground, my body twisted in a painful angle. It was hard to breathe.

I had absolutely no dignity left.

"Let me go! It wasn't me... she set me up!"

"Shut up! We caught you red-handed!"

The guard pinning me down yelled in my ear, as more onlookers gathered around.

From my position on the ground, I could only see a sea of expensive shoes. I could hear Amelias trembling, tearful voice explaining to the guards how I had "threatened her with a knife" and "demanded a million dollars."

Soon, the police arrived. The guards, who had clearly been bought by the Miller family, exaggerated the story, describing me as a desperate, violent criminal.

As the officers hauled me up from the ground, I saw Carter running toward us.

He pushed past the crowd and immediately took Amelia into his arms.

"Amelia, are you okay? Did she hurt you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Amelia buried her face in his chest, sobbing hysterically as she shook her head.

Only then did Carter turn his gaze toward me.

His eyes were filled with absolute, unfiltered disgust, as if he were looking at a piece of rotting garbage.

"Chloe, do you have any shame left?"

"Its been five years, and you've degraded yourself to this level? I guess the five million wasn't enough, so now you're trying to extort Amelia because shes gentle?"

I was entirely alone, tears of humiliation and helplessness streaming down my face.

"I didn't do it..." I choked out.

But my tears only made Carter look more disgusted.

"You didn't do what?" he snapped, his voice cold as ice.

"You didn't hold a knife? Or you didn't demand money? Chloe, five years ago you sold yourself to the highest bidder without a second thought. Is it really a surprise that you'd do something this disgusting for cash now?"

"I never thought you could be this pathetic. You are no different from a parasite living in a sewer, crawling around looking for someone elses wallet. Do you even have a soul left?"

I wanted to scream, to explain, but the officers slammed the police car door shut, cutting off my voice.

Armed robbery was a felony.

That night, I was locked in a holding cell.

***

###

No matter how many times I explained or begged the detectives, it was useless.

The investigation was pending.

I couldn't leave.

My heart was in my throat as I worried about Leo.

Did his fever go down?

Did he take his medicine on time?

Was he crying in the dark, calling for his mommy? Did I have enough money left in my account to keep him in the ICU?

The terror and anxiety gripped my chest, tightening until I could barely breathe.

But things only got worse.

The stress, combined with riding in the freezing rain all night, caught up to me. A raging fever took over my body.

I shivered violently in the cold cell, my vision blurring, unable to even hold a pen to write a statement.

*No. I can't go to prison.*

*What will happen to Leo?*

He had just survived a major surgery. He was only four years old. He couldn't survive without me.

But my body was giving up. Just as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, a guard's voice echoed through the metal bars.

"Chloe Miller, you're free to go. Your bail has been posted."

It was Luke.

He rushed in, supporting my weak body as we walked out of the precinct. But as we reached the lobby, we ran right into Carter.

Carters eyes narrowed as he looked at Luke's hand supporting my waist. His voice dripped with malice.

"Chloe, your son is literally fighting for his life in the emergency room."

"And you're already out here throwing yourself into another man's arms?"

My heart stopped.

I looked up at Luke, my eyes wide with panic.

Luke pressed his lips together, throwing a furious glare at Carter before looking down at me reassuringly.

"Its an infection-induced fever. His vitals dropped, and things got complicated... they had to rush him back in."

"But the chief of pediatrics is personally leading the procedure. Hes going to be okay."

The news hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled, and I would have collapsed if Luke hadn't caught me.

I gripped Luke's sleeve, sobbing hysterically.

"Take me there. Luke, please, I beg you."

"Leo is so small... he can't leave me..."

I sat outside the operating room, my face pale as death, staring at the bright red "In Progress" sign.

Every second felt like an eternity. I was trembling so hard I could barely sit upright.

"Chloe, please sit down. You're still running a high fever..."

I shook my head blindly, my eyes glued to the double doors.

Seeing that I refused to leave, Luke had no choice but to step away for a moment to grab me some water and a warm blanket.

Carter had followed us to the hospital. He stood a few feet away, watching me with a tense, conflicted expression. He eventually walked over to Luke, demanding answers.

"Why is she raising a kid alone? Did she tell you?"

"Did that rich foreign guy dump her? Did he leave her with nothing, not even child support?"

Luke remained silent, ignoring him.

This only made Carter more agitated. He finally asked the question that had been burning in his mind:

"What kind of disease does the kid have? Why is Chloe so desperate for money?"

Luke knew everything about Leo's parentage.

But right now, he didn't have the patience to deal with Carter's ignorance.

Holding back the urge to punch Carter in the face, Luke turned to walk away.

Suddenly, a nurse rushed out of the operating room, her voice filled with panic.

"Miss Miller!"

"Miss Miller, wake up!"

Both Luke and Carter froze, then bolted toward the bench.

I had fainted, sliding off the seat onto the cold floor. Clutched tightly in my hand was Leo's unsigned critical condition notice.

The nurse held me up, looking at Luke frantically.

"Dr. Evans, the blood bank is completely out of O-negative blood. Can we get an emergency transfer from another hospital?"

"The boy is hemorrhaging!"

In the face of life and death, even Carter's anger vanished.

Seeing the dying child who carried half of Chloe's blood, his heart softened.

He stepped forward, rolling up his sleeve.

"I'm O-negative. Draw my blood."

The nurse's face lit up with relief, and she immediately reached out to guide him.

But Luke stepped in, blocking Carter with a fierce, iron-clad grip on his shoulder.

"No!"

"You are his biological father. You cannot donate blood to him!"