He Blew My Mom's Life-Saving Money on a Streamer, So I Divorced Him and Became a Billionaire Artist

My mother was fighting for her life in the ICU, but my husband used my entire annual bonus to buy ten of the most expensive virtual "Universe" gifts for a TikTok female streamer.

Looking at the bank card with a balance of zero, I rushed to him. "Did you touch my mother’s emergency medical fund?" "Your mother is basically on her deathbed anyway.

Why waste money on her?" Martha, my motherinlaw, peeled off her face mask. "It’s better to let my son spend that money to make himself happy." My husband, Bradley, finally looked up, his tone incredibly nonchalant. "Exactly.

Why are you so obsessed with saving her?" "She’s already sixtyeight.

I’m doing you a favor by easing your financial burden." Martha nodded. "My son is absolutely right." Watching the two of them chime in together, I suddenly felt a wave of cold detachment.

I took out our marriage certificate, placed it on the table, and ripped it right down the middle. "Tomorrow morning at nine. Meet me at my lawyer's office.

We are getting a divorce." Bradley’s face flushed with a fury I had never seen before. "Divorce? Chloe, have you lost your mind?

Over such a trivial thing?" The "trivial thing" he was talking about was the money meant to keep my mother alive, which he had stolen to pamper some internet bimbo.

Behind him, Martha scoffed. "What’s the big deal? Your mother is almost seventy. She already has one foot in the grave.

Why throw good money after bad?" "My Bradley is an only child. Do you know how much pressure he is under?

What’s wrong with him spending a little money to blow off some steam?" "Besides, since you married into our family, your money is Bradley's money.

It is only natural for my son to spend his own money!" In the three years of our marriage, I had covered every single household expense. I had never even seen his paycheck.

He told me that a man needed money to maintain his image and socialize for work. And I, like a fool, believed him. I pinched pennies, giving him the absolute best of everything.

I bought him designer suits and luxury watches so he could walk out of the house looking prestigious.

Meanwhile, I hadn’t bought myself a single new piece of clothing in three years. I thought our love was rocksolid. I thought we were each other's ultimate support.

Until the hospital bills and the freezing $0 balance on my banking app were slapped in my face at the same time.

Now, I wanted nothing more than to divorce him and take care of my mother. "I’m going to say this one last time," I looked at Bradley, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, in front of the attorney's office.

Don't be late." Bradley slammed his fist on the table and stood up, pointing his finger right at my nose. "Chloe, you think you're so tough now, huh? Who do you think you are?

If you leave me, how are you going to pay for your mother's hospital bills?" "Don't think I don't know how much you make at that pathetic job of yours.

If it weren't for me supporting you these past three years, you and your sick mother would be starving on the streets!" "I’m telling you right now—kneel down, apologize to me, and I might just pretend this never happened.

Otherwise, you and your mother can pack your bags and get kicked out of the hospital!" Martha chimed in from the side, a sneer plastered across her face. "Exactly.

Don't throw away the mercy we're showing you.

Having our Bradley marry you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to your miserable life." "A useless woman who does nothing but lock herself in her room playing with old rags and threads.

Do you honestly think you're some kind of artist?" The "old rags and threads" she mockingly referred to were my passion, my soul—rare, goldthread Gobelin tapestry weaving.

An inch of this tapestry was worth its weight in gold. It was a rare, ancient technique I had inherited from my grandmother.

But this craft was solitary, tedious, and took months of painstaking work. In this fastpaced modern world, it had been long forgotten by most.

They didn't understand it, and they looked down on it. Aside from my regular job, I spent all my free time practicing and weaving at home.

In their eyes, I was just a useless housewife who depended entirely on Bradley. Looking at their hideous faces, my heart went completely numb.

I didn't utter another word of argument. I turned around, went into the bedroom, and dragged my suitcase out from the bottom of the closet. I didn't have many belongings.

Just a few clothes I wore regularly, a wooden box containing all my weaving tools, and a scroll wrapped carefully in moistureproof cloth that I had never shown to anyone. "Oh, so you're actually leaving?" Martha leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed as she spoke sarcastically. "Don't you dare come back crying!

My son is so successful, women who want to marry him are lining up from here to Paris!" Bradley looked utterly smug.

He lit a cigarette and blew a arrogant ring of smoke. "Let her go. I want to see how many days she can survive without me.

In less than three days, she’ll be on her knees, crying and begging me to take her back."

I dragged my suitcase over, stopping right in front of him, and took one last look at his face.

The face I had once loved so deeply now looked incredibly foreign and disgusting. "Bradley," I said calmly. "You will regret this." "Regret?

The only thing I regret in this life is marrying a miserable, useless woman like you!" His angry voice echoed behind me, followed by Martha’s sharp, mocking laughter.

I didn't look back. I pulled my suitcase and walked out of the house.

The moment I stepped out of the neighborhood, the calm facade I had fought so hard to maintain crumbled instantly.

I crouched by the curb, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. It wasn't for my failed marriage. It was for my mother, who was currently fighting for her life in the ICU.

My phone rang sharply. It was the hospital. "Is this Ms. Chloe Jenkins? Your mother’s condition has suddenly worsened. We need to perform emergency surgery immediately.

Please come down to settle the deposit and sign the consent form as soon as possible!" "How much is it?" My voice was trembling. "The surgery fee and the subsequent imported medications will cost at least fifty thousand dollars." Fifty thousand dollars.

It felt like a mountain crashing down on me, cutting off my breath instantly. I wiped my tears and caught a cab to the hospital as fast as I could.

The corridor outside the ICU was terrifyingly quiet, save for the monotonous beeping of the lifesupport machines.

Through the thick glass, I saw my mother’s pale face covered by an oxygen mask, her body hooked up to various tubes.

The doctor held the critical condition notice, his expression grim. "Ms. Jenkins, you must make a decision right away.

We've bought you some time, but the billing window closes in an hour.

If the payment isn't made, we cannot schedule the surgery." I clutched that cold piece of paper, a deep sense of helplessness washing over me. "Doctor, please, prepare for the surgery no matter what.

I will find a way to get the money right now." Walking out of the doctor's office, I started making frantic phone calls. "Hey, Lily, I urgently need some money.

Can you lend me some?" "Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. I just bought a house, and my monthly mortgage is suffocating me.

I really can't help right now." "Boss Vanessa, my mother is critically ill.

Is there any way I can get an advance on my salary?" "Chloe, the company has policies, and you're making this very difficult for me.

Besides, you've taken so many days off lately, and your projects are delayed.

There won't be any bonus for you this month." One call after another, but all I got were excuses and rejections. The cold reality of human nature was laid bare in that very moment.

Time was ticking away, minute by minute. Sitting on the plastic bench in the hallway, I felt completely drained of energy.

Just then, a smug, mocking voice echoed from above. "Oh, look who we have here. Isn't this my runaway wife? What’s the matter? Run out of money? Nowhere to go?"

I looked up and saw Bradley and his mother standing in front of me, their faces painted with pure schadenfreude. "Why aren't you talking?

Weren't you acting all tough and independent back at the house?" Martha poked my shoulder with her freshly manicured nails. "Well?

How about you get down on your knees and beg my Bradley?

If he’s in a good mood, he might just show some mercy and throw you a few bucks so you can buy your mother a decent coffin." "Mom!" Bradley pretended to scold her, but the grin on his face betrayed him. "Watch your language.

She’s still my motherinlaw, after all." He squatted down to look me in the eye, his gaze filled with condescending pity. "Chloe, for the sake of our past three years, I’ll give you one last chance." "Come home with me right now.

Pour some tea for my mother, apologize to her, and throw away all those trashy weaving tools of yours.

From now on, just stay home and serve me quietly." "If you do that, I'll pay ten thousand—no, five thousand dollars toward your mother's hospital bills." He had intentionally slashed the amount. "As for the surgery?

I say forget it. She’s so old anyway. Why make her suffer through it? Letting her go peacefully is the best way you can show your love." "This way, you won't be in debt.

You'll be completely free." Looking at his hypocritical face and hearing his toxic words, I felt utterly repulsed.

I slowly stood up, straightening my back. "Bradley, even if I have to sell my own blood or beg on the streets, I will never ask you for a single penny." "And as for what you owe me, I will settle the score with you, cent by cent." The moment those words left my mouth, Bradley’s smug smile froze.

He stared at me in disbelief before gritting his teeth in anger. "You ungrateful bitch! Fine, Chloe, you asked for this!

I can't wait to watch you plan your mother's funeral!" With that, he grabbed his mother's arm and stormed off. The corridor fell silent once again.

I leaned against the wall, my body sliding down to the floor.

But as I did, my hand accidentally brushed against the hard scroll inside my suitcase. The Sea of Clouds. That was the masterpiece I had spent three whole years of painstaking labor on, replicating a legendary ancient tapestry.

It utilized a lost, extremely complex tripleshading weaving technique.

Its craftsmanship was so intricate and its value so immense that even my grandmother had called it a masterpiece of the century.

I had originally intended to keep it as a family heirloom forever. But now... A wild idea began to grow in my mind.

With trembling hands, I searched my contacts and pulled up a number that was almost forgotten at the very bottom. Evelyn Sterling.

She was one of the country's wealthiest art collectors, particularly obsessed with rare, highend textile arts.

Three years ago, I had restored a priceless Renaissance tapestry for her.

She had praised my skills endlessly and left me her private number, telling me to contact her directly if I ever produced a masterpiece of my own.

For three years, I had never dared to bother her. But now, she was my only hope. I took a deep breath and pressed the call button.

It rang for a long time before a refined, elder but sharp voice answered. "Hello?" "Mrs. Sterling, hello.

This is Chloe Jenkins." My voice shook with anxiety. "Three years ago, I restored the Golden Crane Tapestry for you." "Oh, Chloe!

It’s you," The older woman’s voice carried a pleasant surprise. "I remember you. A young girl with extraordinary talent. What brings you to call me so late?

Is something the matter?" "I have a piece of work... and I was wondering if you would be interested in appraising it." "Oh? A new creation of yours?" Mrs.

Sterling was clearly intrigued. "Yes. I’m currently at the Downtown General Hospital. Can I bring it to you right now?" I was practically begging.

The other end of the line went silent for a few seconds. "My child, did something happen to you?

Your voice doesn't sound right." My tears finally broke free, spilling down my cheeks as I choked out, "My mother is in critical condition.

She needs emergency surgery, and I... this is my last resort."

"Stop crying." Mrs. Sterling’s voice became firm and comforting. "Wait at the hospital. Don't go anywhere.

I will send someone to pick you up." Half an hour later, a sleek black RollsRoyce pulled up quietly at the hospital entrance.

The driver respectfully opened the door for me and drove me to a grand estate on the outskirts of the city. Though Mrs.

Sterling was advanced in years, her eyes remained sharp and clear. She didn't pry into my personal matters. She simply gestured for me to present the piece.

When the twometerlong scroll of Sea of Clouds—depicting a breathtaking, majestic sunrise over a vast ocean of rolling clouds woven in silk and gold—was slowly unrolled under the warm lights, the entire room fell dead silent. "This... this is..." Mrs.

Sterling’s hands began to tremble. She put on her reading glasses, leaning in incredibly close, murmuring to herself. "This color palette, the play of light and shadow...

My God, this is the lost French tripleshading weaving technique!" She looked up at me, her eyes filled with absolute shock and awe. "Child, did you really weave this yourself?" I nodded. "Magnificent!

Absolutely magnificent!" The elderly lady was so emotional that her eyes welled with tears. "Thank heaven.

To think that in our generation, we get to see such museumlevel, legendary craftsmanship brought back to life!" She gently caressed the tapestry as if it were the rarest diamond on earth. "Child, how much are you asking for this masterpiece?" I bit my lip, naming the exact amount I desperately needed right now: "Fifty thousand dollars." Mrs.

Sterling froze, her brows instantly furrowing. "Fifty thousand?

Child, asking for that amount is an insult to your talent, and an insult to this masterpiece!" She stood up, walked over to her desk, wrote a check, and handed it to me. "Here is five hundred thousand dollars.

This is just the deposit." I stared at the long string of zeros on the check, completely stunned. "This... this is too much..." "It’s not enough," Mrs.

Sterling pressed the check into my hand, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I’m buying this Sea of Clouds. Its value goes far beyond this.

I will have a professional appraisal done later, and I will pay you every single cent of the remaining balance." She paused, looking at my disheveled state, and sighed gently. "Take this money and save your mother first.

Nothing is more important than a human life. Once she is stable, we can discuss the rest." "Go on. My driver is waiting outside.

He will take you back to the hospital." Clutching the check tightly, I bowed deeply to the elegant lady. "Thank you, Mrs. Sterling. Thank you so much!" "Don't thank me," Mrs.

Sterling helped me up, patting my hand. "It is your own genius that saved you.

Remember this, Chloe: with a skill like yours, you will never starve, and you must never let anyone look down on you." By 1:00 AM, I handed the $500,000 check to the hospital's billing department.

The billing manager checked it repeatedly in shock before immediately greenlighting everything. "Rest assured, Ms. Jenkins.

We are assembling the best surgical team in the hospital for your mother right now!" As the red "Surgery in Progress" light turned on, I sat on the cold bench outside.

But for the first time, my heart felt completely at peace. Just as dawn was breaking, the heavy doors of the operating room finally opened. "The surgery was an absolute success!

The patient is out of danger. Now, she just needs proper rest and recovery." The heavy weight on my chest vanished. My legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed.

The doctor quickly caught me. "You need to get some rest, too. You look incredibly exhausted." I nodded.

After moving my mother into a private VIP suite, I found a quiet corner, leaned against the wall, and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

I don't know how long I slept before a loud, obnoxious commotion woke me up. "What is wrong with this hospital? Didn't you say she couldn't get the surgery without the money?

Where on earth did she get the money?!"