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My Wife Had Me Arrested for $700k—The Money Was for My Dying Dad
Novelix
Completed
When Daniel uses his wealthy wife Vivian’s card to pay for his dying father’s treatment, she reports him to the police. Her assistant Nathan has spent years controlling Daniel’s every purchase and convincing Vivian that Daniel’s family is only after her money. Daniel’s father dies while the couple fights over the payment, and Vivian still refuses to believe him. With a trial approaching, Daniel stops pleading for mercy. A woman with crucial evidence steps forward, and the truth begins to unravel Vivian’s carefully protected version of their marriage.
Chapters (3)
Chapter 1
On our wedding day, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer. He asked my bride for seven thousand dollars to start treatment.
That was all it took for Vivian Lawson to decide I was a gold digger.
From then on, every dollar I spent—even on groceries—had to be approved by her male executive assistant, Nathan Price.
I explained again and again that cancer medication was expensive. My father wasn't trying to profit from our marriage. He was trying to live.
"If you want money," Vivian always said, "get Nathan to sign off on it."
Nathan never approved anything.
Then Dad's condition deteriorated. The hospital needed seventy thousand dollars for an emergency procedure and follow-up care.
I stopped submitting requests nobody would read. I took Vivian's black card and paid the hospital myself.
That evening she arrived at Dad's room with two police officers, accusing me of stealing from her.
Before I could explain, there was a commotion outside. A nurse rushed in, her face white.
"Mr. Mercer, your father said he couldn't bear being a burden to you anymore. I'm so sorry. he died."
Vivian gave a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Tell your father to quit the act. Pay me back and maybe I won't pursue the maximum penalty. A couple of weeks in custody should teach you."
I stared at the empty bed. All the strength went out of me.
"A couple of weeks?" I heard myself ask. "No, Vivian. Press charges. Give me fifteen years if you want."
Fifteen days later, Vivian arranged my release pending trial. Nathan stood beside her with an arm around her waist, looking as if he owned both her and the room.
"Don't threaten me with prison, Daniel," she said. "Your hearing is in three days. Here's the evidence."
The folder was thick. Nathan had rejected every ordinary household expense, so purchases I'd made using the card—from a carton of milk to our electric bill—had all been listed as unauthorized transactions.
I didn't have the energy to fight. "All right."
A female officer who had looked after me shook her head. "Mrs. Lawson, you're married. He used the money for his father's medical treatment. Are you really going to ruin his life over this?"
"His family tried to squeeze seven thousand dollars out of her at the wedding," Nathan cut in. "That was just the beginning."
"A family of scammers doesn't deserve sympathy," Vivian said, grabbing my wrist and marching me outside.
She touched her slightly rounded stomach. "The divorce papers are waiting at home. My baby doesn't need a father with a criminal record. Keep this up and I won't keep the pregnancy, either."
I reached for the front passenger door. Nathan shoved past me and slid into the seat.
"Sorry, Daniel. That's my spot."
Vivian smiled at my expression. "You can sit in the back. Beg nicely and I might even postpone the divorce."
"I'm not fighting over a seat," I whispered. "Just give me enough for a cab."
"Did Nathan approve a cab?" she snapped, pushing me into the back.
The car smelled nothing like the cedar air freshener I'd chosen five years earlier. The air-conditioning blasted icy air. Nathan sneezed; Vivian wrapped him in a cashmere coat and turned his seat heater up. When she noticed me shivering in the T-shirt I'd worn into custody two weeks before, she looked away.
Her phone rang. The hospital was calling again.
"Mrs. Lawson, we've tried for fifteen days to reach you about Mr. Mercer's remains. We need authorization for final arrangements today."
"Do whatever is cheapest," Vivian said. "Scatter the ashes. Don't bill me."
She hung up before I could shout. Fifteen missed calls. Dozens of messages. All ignored.
"Stop the car!" I cried. "I need to bring my father home!"
Chapter 2
Vivian's frown deepened. "You and your father deserve an award for this performance. Nathan confirmed your dad ran off overseas with my money."
"Then come to the hospital with me," I begged. "Ten minutes. That's all I'm asking."
But we had reached the house. "Sign the divorce papers first. Don't upset my mother. I'll take you later."
I signed without hesitation. Beside the document sat a shriveled orchid. Vivian and I had raised it from a cutting in our first apartment. Back when she pretended to be an ordinary office worker, she'd saved an entire paycheck to surprise me with that plant.
She hadn't watered it once during my detention.
Her mother walked in and saw the divorce papers. "Daniel? What's happened? Tell me if Vivian's mistreated you."
Once I had believed her affection was real. She had personally approved the wedding-day money for Dad's treatment. When Vivian became pregnant two months ago, she insisted we keep it secret from everyone. I'd told only her mother.
"I'm fine," I managed.
Nathan laughed. "He stole seventy thousand dollars, Mrs. Lawson. Vivian's lawyers say he could be looking at fifteen years."
Her mother's face changed. "Our family cannot have a child whose father is a convicted thief."
Nathan blushed. "You promised not to tell anyone about the baby yet!"
So that was it. I was being replaced in more ways than one.
Nathan pulled away my chair to seat Vivian. I stumbled against the corner of the table, pain shooting across my stomach. Still I asked, "It's four-thirty. Please, Vivian. Let me get to the hospital."
Her mother waved at the driver. "Take Daniel. Nathan, you take Vivian to her prenatal appointment."
The hospital was ten minutes away. The driver, after receiving a look from Nathan, drove in circles until the clock read five-fourteen.
I ran inside, barely breathing.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mercer," the nurse said. "We followed the authorization we received. Your father's ashes have already been scattered at sea."
For a moment, the entire building seemed to tilt.
The driver held out his phone. Nathan's voice came through on speaker.
"Come on, Daniel. You can't show us any ashes because your father's alive, right?"
"And I actually believed you for a minute," Vivian said. "What a waste of time."
I opened my messages to her mother.
*You were right. Your family shouldn't have a child with a criminal father.*
*Don't worry about my baby anymore. Vivian's wanted to end this pregnancy for a long time. Tell her she can make her own decision.*
Chapter 3
The typing indicator appeared, vanished, then returned.
*Daniel, don't do anything impulsive,* her mother finally replied. *I checked. The baby is yours.*
I stared at those words. They meant less than they should have.
Vivian's voice emerged from the driver's phone. "Take him home. And bring me his wedding ring. Nathan should have it."
The driver reached across and pulled the ring from my finger. I'd worn it for five years; losing it felt like having something torn out of my body.
"Please take me to a hospital," I said. My head was spinning. "I don't have money for a ride."
The driver hesitated, then glanced at Vivian's new message telling him not to waste another minute on me.
I walked the three miles myself.
At the clinic, Dr. Grace Bennett—who had examined me during my detention—took one look at my face and hurried for a thermometer.
"Daniel, you're burning up. You were healthy two weeks ago. You've lost weight, your stress levels are off the charts, and your temperature is above 104 degrees. You need tests and treatment. Is there someone who can come help pay and stay with you?"
"I don't have anyone," I said.
I called Vivian anyway. On the fifth video call she answered, breathing hard in a darkened room.
Dr. Bennett spoke directly into the camera. "Your husband's seriously ill. Can you come to the hospital?"
The camera shifted. There was a fresh mark on Vivian's neck. Nathan's voice drifted into the call, intimate and smug.
"Is he pretending to be sick again? Honestly, Daniel, get some new material."
Vivian turned the phone to show me the maternity clinic behind her. "I ended the pregnancy, just like you wanted. So what is it now? Another excuse to get my money?"
There was a document in her hand. I could barely focus on it.
"Never mind," I whispered. "I won't ask you for another dollar."
"Good."
She ended the call.
Grace didn't say anything for a long time. Then she quietly arranged for my tests and covered the bill herself.
A day later I could walk again. My phone showed more than ninety-nine new messages. Strangers called me a parasite and told me to steal money from my father's grave.
Buried among them were three texts from Vivian.
*Nathan used your case in an online fraud-awareness post. He accidentally exposed your personal information.*
*It's gone viral. People are being emotional.*
*Don't make a big deal out of it. If the court clears you, I'll have him apologize.*
As if an apology could bring back my father. Or my child.
