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Steal the CEO's Black Card... or His Frozen Heart? "Please... please, sir. I'm begging you. I didn't steal the card." Belle's trembling voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. "Believe me..." "You belong in prison, fraud!" the store manager spat, his eyes filled with contempt. Humiliated and surrounded by accusing stares, Belle could only clutch her worn bag and pray someone would listen. But no one did. After all, who would believe a poor medical student over the owner of a limitless Black Card? Belle had been fighting for survival ever since she lost her parents. An orphan with nothing but a dream. A dream of becoming a doctor. A dream she once shared with the parents she loved more than life itself. For years, she lived in a cramped room inside a rundown building. She endured hunger, sleepless nights, and the mockery of classmates who looked down on her faded clothes and worn-out shoes. Life had never been kind to her. Yet despite her hardships, she never stole. Never cheated. Never took what wasn't hers. So how did she end up accused of stealing the Black Card belonging to Ethan DelValle—the cold, powerful, and untouchable CEO everyone feared? The man who could buy anything he wanted. The man whose single word could ruin lives. And the man who, for reasons she couldn't understand, suddenly became interested in hers. What begins as a humiliating misunderstanding soon entangles Belle in Ethan DelValle's world—a world of wealth, power, secrets, and dangerous attraction. She never wanted his money. She never wanted his Black Card. But what happens when she accidentally steals something far more valuable? His heart.

As the project lead, I was supposed to receive an annual bonus of $28,000. However, my wife transferred all the money to her newly hired male assistant and simply tossed me a supermarket gift card instead. “There’s $30 on this card. Buy whatever you want. I’m pretty generous, aren’t I?” I was stunned. “Joy, my mother needs that money for her surgery. You can’t be serious!” She sneered and said, “Why waste money on someone who’s dying anyway? At most, I’ll give you $700 to pick out a nice coffin.” Looking at her smug face, I smiled as well. Joy probably forgot that although she held all the company shares, the core patents of the company were registered under my personal name. I immediately sent a message to my lawyer. [Starting today, I’m releasing all patents in my name for free!]

On the day we receive our bonus, one of the staff members of the finance department gives me 500 dollars worth of vouchers for the fast food restaurant downstairs. He tells me that my wife, Jillian Dunn, who is also the company's president, specifically ordered him to do so. In utter disbelief, I seek out Jillian and question her. "Didn't we agree that whoever secures the project will get a 50,000-dollar bonus? Stop messing around! I still need to pay for Freya's cochlear implant!" "I'm not messing around with you," Jillian answers seriously. "These vouchers can last you for a whole month. I wouldn't even give them to you if you were anyone else. "Money is tight right now at the company. Besides, Freya has been deaf for more than a decade now. She can survive being deaf for another decade." The next day, Jillian gives one of the interns a sports car that's worth 50,000 dollars. I look at the photo she uploads of her and the intern grinning widely as they sit in the car and give it a like. Jillian must assume that everything is proceeding smoothly since she has signed the contract. However, she misses the additional condition that's printed on the last page of the contract. I dial her rival's number, asking, "Ms. Swan, are you interested in Project Charlie?"

My grandparents, Timothy Shaw and Dorothy Elmer, show up one day to ask for 30 thousand dollars. In response, my wife, Jade Quinn, shuts the door in my face. She refuses to discuss the topic of a loan or open the door for anyone. All she does is send me a text message that reads, "I earn a fixed salary. How could I possibly come up with 30 thousand dollars on the fly? Don't you have other colleagues and classmates? Just ask them for a loan." I mull over the message as my hand hovers over the study door's knob. Through a crack in the door, I can see her on a video call with a male student named Nicholas Dion. She says to him, "Nicky, I've transferred 200 thousand dollars to your bank account. It's not safe for a young man like you to live in a rented place off-campus. Consider the money a gift from me for you to use as a down payment." My hand freezes in midair, trembling slightly. Just then, the door is opened, and Jade sees me standing outside the door. She offers no explanation and shows no sign of guilt. She simply explains unhurriedly, "I married you and not your entire family, so I'm not letting just anyone mooch off of me. I worked hard to earn my money too." She closes the door in my face. She was a mere inch away from catching my hand in the doorframe, but she showed no hesitation. I clench my hands into fists, understanding abruptly dawning on me. It turns out that our marriage is worth less than 30 thousand dollars to her.

The night I got back from my work trip, the drugstore called—said my rewards card got declined that afternoon. I needed to reload it. Adrian was in the kitchen, laser-focused on dinner. I asked what he'd bought. He grinned, pulled out a box of supplements. "Been working late. Heart's been acting up, so I grabbed some support vitamins." I didn't say anything. He sighed, dug out a bank card. "I know you're all about money. Used your rewards card by accident. I'll pay you back ten times. Deal?" Normally, I'd take it. This time, I didn't. I just looked at him. "Let's get a divorce."

After I marry Yannick Harker, I become the laughingstock of Grisport. They call me the "Voucher Wife". Whether it is doctor's visits, meals, or even a pack of sanitary pads… I can only pay for them with vouchers that are only redeemable at designated stores. The Harkers impose an unwritten rule—every expense I incur must be approved by the female butler, Tracy Swain. The vouchers bearing her personal seal become my only source of money. On our wedding anniversary, I'm injured in a car accident and end up covered in cuts and bruises. But when I try to pay my medical bill, I'm told that every medical voucher I have is invalid. With nowhere else to turn, I ask Yannick for help, only to be met with his impatient refusal. He sneers, "You need money? Isn't the 200 thousand dollars in vouchers you get every month enough for you? Or is one of your relatives waiting in the operating room waiting to undergo surgery again? "Colette Skelton, you once put a price tag on yourself and sold yourself into the Harker family. But now, you're not even worth that much anymore." I know Yannick hates me. He hates me for demanding an extra one million dollars at our wedding. That has made him the laughingstock of the entire city for marrying a gold digger. So, Yannick cancels all my bank cards and cuts off every job opportunity I have. With those vouchers, he humiliates me openly without the slightest attempt to hide his overbearing ways. The glaring lights of the emergency room make my eyes sting until tears form. With the last valid voucher I have left, I exchange it for an abortion procedure. Later, Yannick finds me like a man possessed. With bloodshot eyes, he demands to know why. I calmly slide the remaining vouchers across the table to him. "Here's your 200 thousand dollars in vouchers. Yannick, I've settled my debt to you. From now on, we owe each other nothing."