Putting a Price Tag on My Family

Chelsea Fischer's childhood sweetheart, Patrick Goldstein, loves fighting with me over everything. After I get reborn, I realize that I can never win against Patrick. So, I decide to attach price tags to everything I own. Since Patrick loves taking over Chelsea's front passenger seat under the guise of getting carsick easily, I slap a price tag onto the front passenger seat immediately. "That'll be 100 thousand dollars per year. If you decide to continue the subscription, you'll get a 20% discount." Patrick has his eye on my project proposal. As soon as Chelsea knocks on my office door, I say to her without even looking up, "Wire me 500 thousand dollars, and I'll change the project lead's name to Patrick's as soon as I receive the money." On the day of my daughter Callista Hammond's birthday, I reschedule all of my work matters so that I can hurry over to the kindergarten to pick her up. But Callista tells her teacher, "He's not my dad. I'm not leaving with him." While we're stuck in a stalemate, Patrick arrives at the kindergarten with the gift I've prepared for Callista. That's when Callista rushes over to hug his leg. "Take a good look, miss! This is my actual dad!" Chelsea is about to provide an explanation to me when I extend a hand to Callista. "Give me five million dollars, and I'll make sure that he gets your custody by the end of today." Chapter 1 Wyatt's POV My wife, Chelsea Fischer, stared at me incredulously and exclaimed, "Wyatt Hammond, are you really taking your anger out on Callie? She's just four years old! Cut it out already!" When my daughter, Callista Hammond, heard my words, a flicker of shock crossed her face. Then, her cheeks flushed red, and she clung even tighter to Patrick Goldstein as she shouted at me, "Five million it is! I don't want you as my dad anyway!" So it turned out that in her eyes, I—her father who got up two hours early every day to make her a nutritious breakfast and turned down promotions just to spend more time with her—was someone she utterly detested. Patrick, Chelsea's childhood sweetheart, hurried to play the good guy and smooth things over. "Callie, remember what I taught you about being polite?" Callista pouted defiantly. "Well, he isn't polite either! He kept calling Mom to bother her when she was with you the other day! You taught me to return tit for tat when dealing with nasty people too, Mr. Goldstein!" Chelsea's expression changed suddenly. "Wyatt, what happened the other day was because Pat—" I raised my hand and cut her off. "You spent our wedding anniversary with him, so you owe me for that too." Chelsea stood frozen, as if she no longer recognized me. After a long moment, she pulled a card from her bag and flung it onto the ground. "Even your own daughter hates you, Wyatt. You really should look for the reason in yourself." She took Patrick by the arm and got into the car, its exhaust blasting me full in the face. I simply crouched down silently and picked up the bank card from the ground. The sharp corners digging into my palm only strengthened my resolve. After all, in my previous life, when Chelsea let Patrick take everything from me, I had kicked up a huge fuss. Yet not only did I fail to win back her love, but she also gave Patrick my mother's grave just so he could bury his dog. In a fit of rage, I'd slapped Patrick and angrily filed for divorce from Chelsea. I thought doing so would make her realize her mistake. I never expected her to agree to it immediately just to get back at me. She even hired a top divorce lawyer who found loopholes to strip me of everything and force me out with nothing. A few days after the divorce, I suddenly had a heart attack. As I didn't have enough money to call an ambulance, I had to drag myself to the hospital. Faced with the exorbitant medical bills, I lost all my pride and called Chelsea repeatedly. She never answered my calls and instead had Patrick use her phone to send me a voice message. "Wyatt, you willingly gave Chelsea up and let me have her. There's no taking her back now." While I was in desperate need of money to save my life, all I got in the end was photos of him flaunting his life. In my final moments, I watched helplessly as Patrick wore my bathrobe, used the razor Chelsea had given me, and kissed my wife on the silk bedsheets I had washed clean. Now that I had a second chance at life, if I wasn't going to get her love, the least I could do was get enough money to save myself. I just hadn't expected that Callista, the person I cared about the most in my previous life, would end up taking Patrick's side. Before I even had time to grieve, my phone suddenly rang. It was a call from the doctor. "Mr. Hammond, we've found a matching heart for you. We can schedule the surgery for next month." My knees almost buckled when I heard the good news. I had to brace myself against the wall to stay upright. I finally wouldn't have to die in despair in a hospital corridor in this life. No sooner had I hung up than Chelsea sent me a message. "Wyatt, I know my words were harsh on you earlier on. But remember that I promised you we'd have a proper wedding ceremony? Well, the designer just delivered the custom suit over. Won't you come home and try it on?" I didn't reply to her message or reject her offer. When Chelsea and I got married five years ago, her family had just gone bankrupt. I gave every penny I had to plug the holes in her family's finances, and we ended up so broke that we couldn't even afford a wedding. Back then, to help her get back on her feet, I willingly stepped back and quietly supported her career. In return, she promised me that once she succeeded, she would give me a grand wedding that would make everyone envious. I never would have guessed that after she really made it, Patrick would appear and steal her attention and our daughter's affection. As for me, I had been left waiting for that wedding to this day. When I got home and pushed open the door, I saw Chelsea and Callista crowded around Patrick, who was wearing the groom's suit, showering him with endless praise. Chapter 2 Wyatt's POV Chelsea's smile froze on her face when she caught sight of me at the door. She hurried over and reached out to hug me. "Wyatt, here's the thing… Pat's mom doesn't have much time left, and her biggest wish is to see him get married before she dies. But Pat doesn't have a girlfriend right now, so I was thinking I'd go through with a fake wedding with him first. The wedding I owe you will have to wait a little longer..." I stared fixedly at Patrick. The suit that had been custom-made to my measurements fit him perfectly, even though he was a head shorter than me. Patrick put on a show of being understanding. "Chels, maybe we should just forget it. Wyatt has been looking forward to this for five years. I feel bad about it." Then, he made a show of taking off the suit, but Callista stopped him. She charged at me wildly and shouted, "You big meanie! You're just jealous that Mr. Goldstein looks way better in a suit than you! You're a cripple anyway—nothing will look good on you!" I was knocked hard to the ground. The pain was so sharp that I was left dazed for a long while. Seeing the agony on my face, Callista looked a little guilty. But she still stood there, stubbornly sticking out her chin. Chelsea rushed over to pull me up. "Callie! How could you push your father?" Her gaze fell to my left leg, and her expression softened. Two years ago, while Chelsea was shopping with Callista, she failed to keep hold of her, and Callista ran into the road. I rushed after her and was hit by a car, leaving that leg permanently injured. "Wyatt, if you really mind it that much, I'll find someone else to fake it with Pat—" I shook off her hand and stood up on my own. "I don't mind at all." Then, I pulled up the calculator on my phone. "Besides the wedding suit, I'll need to factor in the money for you spending your wedding night with him—" Before I could finish the calculation, Chelsea slapped the phone out of my hand. "Wyatt, what the hell is wrong with you? Callie is right here! Pat and I are innocent! I really don't get how you've become like this!" I looked up at her. "He wants to take everything from me. Since I can't compete with him, is it wrong to ask for some money as compensation?" Chelsea was rendered speechless. Her chest heaved violently, as if she were furious with me. "I can't be bothered to argue with you." She pulled out her phone and jabbed at the screen with her manicured nails, as if taking out her anger on the keys. The next second, a bank transfer notification popped up on my phone. "I must have been blind back then!" Chelsea spat as she grabbed the other two and stormed out, slamming the door so hard that it rattled. I stared at the string of zeros on the screen and tried my best to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. When Chelsea and I first got together, we had nothing. To keep her from envying other girls, I ate nothing but plain bread every day and delivered food after work to earn extra money. Feeling sorry for me, she secretly learned how to do manicures to earn extra money and lighten my burden. When I casually mentioned that it took too long for our clothes to dry, she spent half a month's salary to buy me a small dryer. When I discovered she was buying clothes from secondhand platforms, I cried my eyes out. But she just held me tighter, sobbing that her family had dragged me down, and swore that once she had money, she'd make it up to me. Yet after she succeeded, Patrick took away every single thing she gave me to compensate me. Now, all I had done was fight for some financial compensation, only to be told that she must've been blind to choose me. I took a deep breath and tried to scroll through my phone to distract myself, but my feed was flooded with Patrick's posts. Chelsea had taken him to discuss the wedding plans, and the exhibition hall renderings he posted were the very version I had painstakingly crafted according to Chelsea's tastes. I never thought that the wedding I had looked forward to for so long would end up becoming one for my wife and another man. Gripping my phone tightly, I was about to block him when my eyes inadvertently caught something on his wrist. The moment I saw clearly what he was wearing, I couldn't hold back anymore. I checked his location and rushed right over to them. Chapter 3 Wyatt's POV "Give me back my watch!" I roared as I lunged at Patrick, trying to snatch my watch back. It was the only keepsake my father had left me. I had kept it safe all these years and was reluctant to even touch it too much. I never expected Patrick would take it too. But before I could get close, Callista suddenly shoved me to the ground. She spread her arms wide and stood firmly in front of Patrick. "I gave this to Mr. Goldstein! Just name your price! I'll transfer it to you right now!" Callista raised her phone watch, looking like she was about to transfer me the money. I was so shocked that I couldn't even feel the pain. Looking at Callista in front of me, I felt my limbs go numb. "Callista, what did you say?" So she repeated impatiently, "I asked you to name your price! You're willing to sell anything for money, aren't you? So hurry up and name me your price!" I felt as if my heart were being squeezed tight, so tight that I struggled to catch my next breath. Back when Callista was too young to even string a sentence together, I had shown her that watch. I told her it was a symbol of her grandfather, that my father was gone, and that this was all I had left to remember him by. Back then, she had thrown herself into my arms and tried to make me feel better, saying, "You still have me, Daddy." But now, wearing the phone watch I had bought her, she wanted to buy my most treasured possession and give it away to someone else. Patrick pretended to take it off. "Sorry, Wyatt. Callie said you never wear it, so I figured you didn't want it anymore." Chelsea, who had been talking to the wedding planners, heard the commotion and hurried over. When she saw Patrick taking off the watch, she immediately shot me a displeased look. "Wyatt, what are you making a fuss about now? It's just a watch. It's not like you wear it anyway. What's the big deal if Pat borrows it for a bit?" Unable to hold it back any longer, I roared, "It was my father's! Patrick, must you take even this? Aren't you afraid my dad will come for you at night?" Hearing my words, Chelsea looked a little embarrassed. "It's fine, Pat. Just give it back. I'll buy you a new one. It's bad luck wearing something that belonged to a dead person anyway." Callista chimed in right after, "Yeah! Mom will get you a bigger and nicer one!" With that, she took the watch Patrick had removed and hurled it at me. "No!" I reached out frantically to catch it, but I could only watch as it hit the ground hard. It shattered upon impact immediately. In that instant, I felt as if part of myself had shattered too. I dropped to my knees, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces as tears streamed down my face and splattered on the ground. "Stop picking them up," Chelsea said when she caught sight of the bloody scratches on my hands. She frowned and reached out to pull me up. "It's just an object. Is it really worth all this?" I shook off her hand, my eyes already bloodshot. I flung the divorce agreement I had prepared long ago onto her face. "Forget it, Chelsea. We're—" But Chelsea got the wrong idea. She thought the divorce agreement was a share transfer document. She gripped the papers with a cold expression on her face. "So money alone isn't enough for you now, Wyatt? You're setting your sights on the company too? You probably let Callie take that watch on purpose, didn't you? Just so you can guilt-trip me into giving you shares?" She let out a cold laugh and signed her name without even looking at the document. "What a schemer you are, Wyatt. I won't hold it against you this time, but I'm not going to tolerate the same trick a second time!" She tossed the papers back at me and walked off without looking back. I sat on the ground, staring at the fluttering sheets of paper and laughing bitterly. What she didn't know was that there wasn't going to be a next time. I was done with both her and Callista. … In the days that followed, I spent every day in the hospital. The money Chelsea had given me was enough not only for the surgery but also to cover all the follow-up checkups and recovery care afterward. After a successful heart transplant, I would finally rewrite the tragedy of my previous life and embrace a fresh start. Finally, the day of the surgery arrived. As I was being prepped for anesthesia, the doctor suddenly took off his gloves. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hammond. We can't proceed with your surgery today…" Chapter 4 Wyatt's POV I felt my heart skip a beat. "What do you mean? Why can't we go ahead with the surgery?" Even though I'd been on the best medication available, heart attacks were always life-threatening. Just during the time I'd been waiting for surgery, I'd had no fewer than three attacks. The worst one nearly killed me. I was rushed into the emergency room for 12 full hours and only pulled through by sheer will to live. I couldn't afford to wait any longer. The doctor looked troubled. "The heart you were matched with has just been reassigned." I clutched my chest tightly. "Reassigned? To whom? Did he pay you more? Whatever he paid, I'll double it!" The doctor didn't dare respond. Instead, he pulled on his mask and tried to make a run for it. I scrambled off the operating table and chased after him, on the verge of breaking down. "You know my condition! I can't wait any longer! How could you just reassign it like that? How is this any different from downright murder?" My shouts quickly drew a crowd. I roared, "Who exactly took the heart? Can rich people just buy other people's lives now?" The onlookers were outraged, and the culprit was soon identified. I charged over without a second thought, but the moment I saw who it was, my blood ran cold. It was Chelsea. She was standing firm in front of the operating room, blocking anyone from entering. Patrick, who was crying not too far off, spotted me and immediately grabbed my arm. "Wyatt? Are you the one saying that my mom stole your heart?" He dropped to his knees right in front of me. "I was wrong to take your things before. I'm sorry. I apologize. Whatever you have against me, take it out on me. Please just spare my mom, okay?" Chelsea's expression hardened instantly. "Wyatt, just because your mother is no longer around, you're making sure Pat loses his mother too? How could you be so cruel?" My nails dug deep into my palms, and I bit down so hard I nearly drew blood. "Chelsea, his mother has cancer. A heart transplant won't cure her at all. Patrick is deliberately—" Before I could finish, Patrick suddenly began groveling. "Wyatt, I'll return everything I ever took from you, and I won't ever bother Chels and Callie anymore. I'm begging you! How much money do you want? I'll pay you for this, okay?" I felt chilled to the bone. I was so angry that I could barely speak. "I don't want your money! I want the heart! Give me back the heart!" "That's enough!" Chelsea yelled, exploding with rage as she yanked me back. "You'd fake being sick just to hurt Pat's mother? And you would even stir up trouble by playing on people's sympathy? You've really gone too far this time, Wyatt!" She called security and had them drag me out. I struggled with everything I had, but I failed to break free. My heart pounded harder and harder, my chest burning so badly that it felt like it was about to explode. By the time I was dumped at the hospital entrance, the suffocating grip of death had almost swallowed me whole. I reached out in agony, begging for help, but the bystanders simply spat at me. "We almost fell for your act! And you're still pretending now?" My arm fell limply. In my final moments of consciousness, all I hoped for was to never see Chelsea again—not in my next life, not ever. … Third-Person POV Meanwhile, after Patrick's mother's surgery was done, Chelsea went straight into the wedding with Patrick without missing a beat. But when the time came to exchange rings, her mind was filled with images of Wyatt. He had looked so haggard that day at the hospital, and she couldn't quite shake off the uneasiness within her. "I'm sorry, Pat. Let's end the ceremony here. Your mother is pretty disoriented now and probably won't suspect anything." With that, she pulled off her veil and called her assistant, Riley Drakins. "Look up Wyatt's medical records." Ten minutes later, Riley called back, her voice somewhat uneasy. "Ms. Fischer, the records show that Mr. Hammond has acute cardiomyopathy. His heart transplant surgery was supposed to be a week ago…"