My "Penniless" Husband Spent Millions on Her

Our last dinner before the marriage ends is a plate of cold lasagna Antonio Costa slides across the table. As I set my fork down, a shadow of blame crosses his eyes. "It's from the soup kitchen. Don't be picky with free food. The family funds are frozen, and we can barely cover the kids' medical bills. Drop the high-maintenance act from your spoiled past." Ever since the Costa family fell from grace, I have been standing in line outside the church at 4:00 am for hand-me-downs. One evening, I see him on Via Montevalerio, watching Sofia Bellini try on a dark red satin gown in a high-end boutique. That is a current-season couture piece, priced high enough to keep us afloat for an entire year. The two discounted kids' sweaters in my hands suddenly feel heavy. At the counter, Sofia reaches for her purse, but Antonio catches her wrist. "It's just a dress. I can afford plenty more." A wave of absurdity hits me as he pulls out a black card I've never seen before. It turns out the family accounts have been unlocked for a while. All those nights I've spent digging through trash cans and giving up my asthma inhaler so I can afford my child's fever medicine suddenly become a bitter joke. I wipe away tears I don't realize are falling and drop the neatly folded hand-me-downs back into the donation bin. Chapter 1 Elena's POV When I snapped back to reality, the counter at the boutique across the street was empty. The clothing donation worker walked over, looking at me with concern. "Signora, is everything alright?" I froze for a moment. When I glanced down at a puddle on the ground, I finally realized how ragged I looked. My face was pale, my clothes were faded, and my eyes brimmed with tears. I looked down and quickly brushed the tears away with the back of my hand. "Sì, I'm fine. Just been standing too long, I guess." She eyed me for a second, said nothing more, and turned back to sort through the newly donated clothes. Looking at the discounted kids' clothes in the donation bin—the ones I'd spent hours picking out—my eyes burned. After the downfall of the Costa family, I worried my husband, Antonio Costa, would be looked down on when meeting other Dons. So I pawned the necklace Mamma gave me for our wedding just to scrape together enough for a Patek Philippe watch for him. I couldn't even bear to buy myself a decent dress. The watch wasn't as flashy as the ones he used to wear, but it was everything I had. Yet while I threw away my dignity just to keep him and our child afloat, he was out here splurging on overpriced clothes for another woman without a second thought. Looking at the miserable digits in my bank account, then remembering how effortlessly he paid for Sofia Bellini's dress, I couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, I called a friend of mine who was a lawyer. "Luca, I want a divorce." After Luca Morello promised to handle the arrangements, I dragged my exhausted body home. Late at night, the sound of leather shoes echoed down the hallway. A moment later, Antonio pushed the bedroom door open. I sat on the bed holding our child, Matteo Costa, without even looking up at him. As Antonio walked in, his eyes instinctively darted to the foot of the bed, where a few hand-me-down kids' clothes usually sat neatly folded. However, it was empty tonight. He frowned. "The mall had a sale today. You didn't pick up a few extra things while you had the chance?" I gently laid Matteo down, opened my banking app, and turned the screen toward him. The balance read 10 cents. "There's no money left," I said. Antonio paused, as if only now remembering that he hadn't given me a dime for household expenses in a long time. After a few seconds of silence, he pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket and tossed them on the nightstand. There were barely 50 bucks. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I couldn't help but picture the dress he'd had wrapped up for Sofia at the boutique earlier. The cash on the nightstand wouldn't even cover half a month's toddler formula. The absurdity of it all hit me like a physical blow, but for Matteo's sake, I picked up the money with trembling hands. When Antonio turned to walk out, Matteo suddenly broke into tears. I touched his forehead and realized he was burning up. I quickly picked him up to soothe him before turning to Antonio anxiously. "He has a fever. Go get some fever medicine." Without even glancing our way, he replied absently, "Okay." Hours went by, but the fever didn't break, and Antonio was nowhere to be found. As Matteo grew hotter to the touch, I reached my limit and dialed Antonio's phone. "I asked you to buy medicine! Where are you?" Antonio's voice came through the line, thick with annoyance. "What are you rushing me for? I'll bring it back in a minute." His irritated tone made my heart sink. Another few dozen minutes passed without a word from him. It was freezing outside, and I couldn't risk taking a sick child out into the cold. It wasn't until I called Antonio repeatedly that he finally sent me a quick message. "Bought it. Wait." Eventually, he pushed the door open, carelessly tossed a plastic bag onto the table, and walked right back out. When I pulled out the box and checked the ingredients, my stomach dropped. Matteo was allergic to an active ingredient in that brand. My hands trembled violently as I held the box. I posted countless pleas for help in the neighborhood chat before finally finding a parent whose child took the same fever medicine. When the woman knocked on my door and handed me the medicine, my voice shook as I thanked her over and over. Once the medicine was administered and Matteo finally settled, I sat down to catch my breath. Just then, my phone screen lit up. Sofia had posted an Instagram update. The picture showed a wrist draped in a velvet glove, wearing a Van Cleef & Arpels diamond clover bracelet. The backdrop was a candlelit dinner, with half a glass of champagne and an open velvet jewelry box sitting casually to the side. The caption read, "Just glanced at it in the window two days ago, and someone went ahead and put it on my wrist." Looking at those words, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Matteo was sick, and Antonio was busy buying gifts for Sofia. With shaking hands, I dialed Papa's number. "Papa… I want to go home." Chapter 2 Elena's POV "Did someone hurt you? Your mamma and I will head to the Costa residence and bring you back right now." The tears I had held back all night finally spilled over when I heard Papa's voice. He didn't blame me for making such a sudden decision. He only cared whether I was okay. But I couldn't let them come. Ever since our family went through that crisis years ago, Papa's health had plummeted, and Mamma had moved him from city to city just to settle down. I didn't want them suffering on my account anymore, nor did I want them to see me like this. I was typing "I can make it back on my own" on my phone when footsteps echoed from the foyer. It was Antonio and Sofia. I looked up, and before I could utter a word, my eyes locked onto the diamond-encrusted clover bracelet on Sofia's wrist. He certainly had good taste. Every single diamond glittered under the lights, piercingly bright and making my eyes ache. When Antonio caught sight of my bloodshot eyes, he paused. "What are you crying for?" I didn't answer. My gaze was still fixed on that bracelet. Sofia followed my line of sight down to her wrist, then lightly patted Antonio's arm. It didn't look like a reprimand. It looked more like flirting. "This is your fault. You only thought of me. Why didn't you pick one up for Elena too?" Then she bit her lip, seemingly making a difficult decision, before raising her hand to take off the bracelet. "Elena, if you want it, you can have it." But Antonio moved faster than her and gently caught her wrist. "Don't give it to her. She doesn't deserve something this nice." The moment he finished speaking, his eyes traveled over me from head to toe. The disdain in them was so obvious that he didn't even bother pretending otherwise. I instinctively touched my clothes. The edges of my sweater were covered in pills. Right, I didn't deserve it. But I used to wear fine things once. I had sent those silks and cashmeres to the pawn shop piece by piece, all for him and Matteo. As I stood there frozen, Antonio glanced down at his phone, and his expression shifted. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me into the study and slammed the door behind us. My heart jumped into my throat. Had he seen my messages in the neighborhood chat begging for medicine? Was he feeling guilty? The next second, he shoved his phone into my face. On the screen were the chat logs from the neighborhood chat. "You went begging strangers for medicine?" His voice dropped low, his jaw tight. "I told you I bought it, yet you still went begging to a bunch of strangers? What are the neighbors going to say? That my woman can't even get a box of fever medicine?" I stood there, paralyzed. That ridiculous spark of hope in my chest was shattered like a slap to the face. I turned, picked up the box from the nightstand, and held it up. "Is this the medicine you were talking about?" "What's wrong with it?" he snapped. Then he actually looked at the ingredients, and his voice died in his throat. "…I overlooked that." He set the box down on the nightstand and softened his tone. A moment later, he transferred some money to my account. My screen lit up with the notification. The amount wasn't huge, but it was just enough to cover a month's household expenses. Looking at the balance on my screen, I thought of the diamond bracelet on Sofia's wrist and how he hadn't even blinked as he pulled out his black card at the boutique. Suddenly, I realized there was no point left to this marriage. "Antonio," I said softly, "I want a divorce." Chapter 3 Elena's POV Sofia slipped in without knocking. "Elena, I'm so glad you've finally come to your senses!" She walked over, her tone intimate, as if we were childhood best friends. "The family trust fund in Silvaria is almost past its unfreezing deadline, and several collateral branches are hovering like vultures. "If you get the paperwork sorted out now, Antonio can claim his share the second it thaws. Then you two can just remarry." She beamed, putting on a front of pure concern for my well-being. "When I brought this up to Antonio earlier, he was worried you'd throw a fit like last time." My hands went stiff as memories flooded back. The last time he brought up divorce, I had just found out I was pregnant. Unstable and terrified, I had smashed everything in sight the second the word left his lips. But things were different now. After watching him shower Sofia with extravagant gifts while neglecting Matteo's lethal allergy, I had zero expectations left for this marriage. Antonio's eyes darkened as he stared at me. "Elena Visconti, are you serious? Or are you just throwing a tantrum because of what I said earlier?" As I looked at him, I suddenly felt a bone-deep exhaustion. I didn't even have the energy to argue anymore. "I'm serious," I said. Antonio's furrowed brow finally relaxed, and his voice was noticeably lighter. "Alright. I'll have the family lawyer draft the papers and send it over. We can file it tomorrow. We'll split the assets 50-50, and I'll keep Matteo for now." Just then, Sofia tugged on Antonio's sleeve. "Your line of work is far too dangerous. How could you possibly take care of a child on your own? Besides, the family is in such chaos right now. What if Elena gets hunted down the second she comes into that money?" Antonio hesitated at her words. Noticing that he didn't push back, Sofia stepped forward and took my arm. "Elena, please don't misunderstand. My suggestion for a fake divorce was purely to help Antonio claim that trust. Don't worry. Once it's finalized, I'll make sure no other woman gets near him." I ignored her completely and kept my eyes on Antonio. "I have one condition before we sign anything." Antonio froze, his expression instantly souring. "Elena, don't play hard to get. Do you have any idea what happens if that money gets delayed? Once the deadline passes, it goes straight back to the family trust committee! "Don't you love roses? As soon as I get that money, I'll buy you the largest glass greenhouse in all of Silvaria." As I looked at his familiar face, he felt like a total stranger. It made all my years of sacrifice look like a pathetic joke. When his family fell apart, I sold everything I owned for him. Yet he couldn't even remember which flowers I liked. I stared at him for a long moment and spoke just as his brows knitted together. "Antonio, I hate roses." The second the words left my mouth, Sofia stepped to his side and tapped him gently. Her tone carried a hint of playful reproach as she said, "I'm the one who loves roses! Did you forget?" Then, she turned back to me with a soft smile. "Elena, don't be mad at Antonio. He's been swamped with family business lately. It's only natural he got confused. Don't worry. I'll give him a good talking-to later." Watching her act like the lady of the Costa family made my stomach churn. I lowered my eyes and forced down the nausea before saying, "I'll agree to the divorce, but I'll draft the divorce papers." Before the words could fully settle, Matteo's distressed cries echoed from the bedroom. Antonio made a move toward the door, but Sofia caught his sleeve. "I feel so dizzy… I must have been on my feet too long today." He stopped dead in his tracks, turned, and wrapped an arm around Sofia's waist. "Don't worry. I'm taking you to the hospital right now." Chapter 4 Elena's POV I watched Antonio walk out with his arm around Sofia, then hurried into the bedroom to check on Matteo. Only after making sure his fever was subsiding did I start packing our things. Opening the closet, I found it mostly bare. The silk shirts, the cashmere coats, and the tailored suits Mamma had ordered for me from Ravennia before the wedding had long been sold off. Now, almost everything left to pack was Matteo's clothes and formula tins. With a bitter smile, I placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table and turned back to finish packing. A few hours later, footsteps sounded in the foyer. Antonio walked in with Sofia still in his arms. When he noticed my gaze, a flicker of discomfort crossed his face, and he instinctively offered an explanation. "She was feeling dizzy, so she's staying the night." I said nothing, continuing to fold Matteo's clothes and pack them into the bag. Antonio sat on the couch and reached for the divorce papers. Just as he was about to sign, Sofia reached out and pressed down on his wrist. "Take a quick look first. Elena isn't used to legal details. It'd be bad if there's a mistake." He nodded and casually flipped through a couple of pages. When he reached the clause splitting the assets 50-50, his expression instantly darkened. He looked up, his eyes falling on the packed luggage by the door. His tone was laced with anger as he said, "Elena, if you don't want to cooperate, just say so. There's no need to play these games." "I'm not playing games." "Then why change the clause? Don't tell me you actually want a real divorce." Before I could answer, Matteo burst into tears in the bedroom. I rushed over to soothe him, putting my argument with Antonio aside. "It's time for his medicine. Go prep it." Antonio looked at me, but instead of grabbing the medicine, he bent down, grabbed the luggage bags by the door, and tossed them out. "Since you love packing so much, take your bags and leave right now!" The sudden commotion startled Matteo, making him cry even harder. Antonio covered his ears. "It's just a fever. What a hassle!" With that, he grabbed my arm and forcefully shoved me out the door. The door slammed shut behind me, and the lock clicked into place. I stood in the hallway, holding my sobbing son against me. As a cold draft swept past, reality finally set in. It was time to put an end to this marriage. Clasping Matteo tightly with one arm, I dragged the luggage with my free hand and shuffled down the hallway. … When the plane landed on the Bellavento Airport tarmac, the sunlight streaming through the window stung my eyes. I turned on my phone, and some messages from Antonio popped up. "You mentioned wanting a custom shirt for Matteo. I contacted that tailor on Via Montevalerio. Once you're back, we can take him for a fitting." "Also, I had that necklace you always wanted shipped over from Ravennia. It'll arrive in three days." I deleted the messages.