Ten Million and One Dollars

When the kidnappers shoved a gun into Elena Vaughn's mouth and demanded ten million dollars from her husband, Julian Vaughn was busy with another woman. He focused all his attention on slowly zipping up Chloe Bennett's gown, without a thought for what Elena was going through. Julian only agreed to pay the ransom after Elena said through gritted teeth that the kidnappers might actually kill her. Soon after, a transfer landed in the kidnappers' account. Amount received: one dollar. Then Julian's ice-cold voice came through the phone. "Elena, consider this dollar your acting fee. "Chloe's having an asthma attack. I don't have time for your little show." The line went dead. Her face covered in blood, Elena begged the kidnappers for three days. This time, she didn't want his love. She wanted to survive. 1 When the kidnappers shoved a gun into Elena's mouth and demanded ten million dollars from her husband, Elena had one thing to say. She told them, "Don't call him. He's busy. He won't care." They didn't listen. In the abandoned dockyard, the kidnapper called Julian's private number anyway and put him on speaker. The call connected. A symphony played in the background, along with a woman's flirtatious giggle. "Julian, my zipper's stuck. Can you zip me up? Please?" It was Chloe. She was the younger sister of Julian's late mentor. He'd sworn to take care of her for the rest of her life. The kidnapper barked into the phone, "Mr. Vaughn, we have your wife. Get ten million dollars ready, or the next time you see her, she'll be a corpse." The line went quiet for two seconds. Then Chloe's soft voice came through. "Is Elena pranking us again? Julian, just the other day she threatened to hire people to stage something you'd regret if you took me to the gala tonight." Julian's voice followed, cold as ice. "Elena, last month you faked appendicitis to make me cut a meeting short and rush to the hospital. "Last week, you knocked over a champagne tower on purpose just to see which of you I'd protect first in front of the press. "And now you've taken it even further? You hired actors to stage a kidnapping?" Elena was on her knees with broken ribs on her left side. Every breath was agony. "Julian, this isn't a show. They have guns..." "Shut up," Julian cut her off. "You want ten million? Fine. I'll give it to you." It didn't take long. A transfer notification popped up on the kidnapper's phone. Amount received: one dollar. "Consider this dollar your acting fee," Julian said coldly. "Chloe's having an asthma attack. I don't have time for your little show." The call ended. Then silence. The kidnapper stared at the one-dollar transfer on his screen in disbelief. He'd been in the business for over ten years and had never been insulted like this. He slapped Elena hard across the face. "You stupid bitch! You're married to a billionaire, and that's all you're worth to him? One fucking dollar?" He grabbed her by the hair, shoved her face down into the filthy water, and pressed the muzzle of the gun to the back of her head. "He thinks he can brush me off with one lousy dollar? I'll blow your brains out right now!" A chill ran through Elena. But the moment she saw that one dollar, her tears dried up for good. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of fighting side by side. She'd helped him build everything from the ground up. Now her life was hanging by a thread, and he'd sent her one dollar. She looked up at the kidnapper, eerily calm. "Kill me, and you won't see a cent. You'll have the cops after you, too." Elena coughed up blood. "Give me a phone and three days. I'll get you the money. "Ten million in three days. You get your money, I walk free. One cent short, you pull the trigger." The kidnapper stared at the determination in her eyes for a long time. Then he put the gun away. "One cent short, and I'll chop you into pieces." For three days and three nights, Elena lived in hell. Feverish and nursing two broken ribs, she made 78 calls from a beat-up old phone. She begged her old investment banking colleagues and friends for loans. They made excuses. They mocked her. "Elena, Julian already told everyone you're just throwing a tantrum. Who'd dare lend you money?" She stopped begging. Instead, she began signing one agreement after another. She put up the three-million-dollar apartment she'd owned before the marriage as collateral, taking out a loan for far less than it was worth. She liquidated her stocks, bonds, and funds for half their value. She even sold the antique brooch her late mother had left her. Over a video call, a pawnshop bought it for three hundred thousand dollars. By the 71st hour, she'd finally scraped together the ten million. Once the kidnapper confirmed the money had arrived, he looked at her like she was insane. "Get lost, Mrs. Vaughn. You've got more guts than that husband of yours." 2 Her ankle dislocated, Elena limped out of the dockyard one painful step at a time. It was early morning by the time she made it back to the apartment. Julian was at the kitchen island, frying eggs. Chloe cradled a mug of warm milk and gazed at him, her face glowing with happiness. "Julian, your eggs are too runny. I want mine cooked all the way through." "So picky." Julian chuckled. "You're still recovering from your asthma attack. Go easy on cold drinks." How cozy. The sound of the door opening shattered the cozy scene. Julian took in her torn clothes, tangled hair, and the scratches all over her feet. "So, had your fun? Took you three days to come crawling back." He tossed the spatula onto the counter, his face twisting with disgust. "Dressed like that, what sob story are you trying to sell me this time? "You want everyone to think I abuse you?" Right on cue, Chloe stood up with a wounded look. "Elena, I know you're upset, but you can't just disappear for three days to make a point. The company's at a critical stage..." They made quite the team. In the past, whenever Chloe put on that innocent face, Elena lost it. She'd lose control, smashing plates and screaming at Julian for being so blind. She'd cry herself hoarse, accusing them of stripping away what little dignity she had left. Julian would just watch her like she'd lost her mind, then walk away without a word. But today, Elena just stood there, her eyes empty. No tears. No anger. "I'm not making a point, and I'm not putting on a show. I'm just here to get what's mine." Her strange calm stung Julian. It unsettled him. He pulled out his checkbook, wrote out a check, and flung it at her feet. "Two million for disappearing for three days. Happy now? And wipe that dead look off your face." The check fluttered down to her feet. A flash of resentment crossed Chloe's face. Julian folded his arms and watched Elena with his usual arrogance. He was waiting for her to do what she always did: tear the check to shreds, burst into tears, and demand to know if he thought their love was some kind of transaction. But Elena simply bent down, her face blank. The movement exposed the raw rope burn on her neck. She picked up the check from the floor. Right there in front of Julian and Chloe, she put it away. Julian froze. "Elena... what are you doing?" Elena looked up. At last, a smile touched her pale face. "Julian, you're right. "I used to be so stupid. I thought love was worth more than cold, hard cash. "I'll take the two million. "But it's not enough." Julian frowned. "Not enough? Two million isn't enough to buy a handbag?" "Sign the beach condo over to me. Give me the yellow diamond necklace you bought at auction last year, too." Julian thought he'd heard wrong. The condo was worth four million. The necklace, three and a half million. Elena had always hated how damp the beach condo was, and she'd always thought the yellow diamond was too flashy. She'd never even touched it. "Elena, have you lost your mind?" Chloe's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Elena, Julian promised I could borrow that yellow diamond necklace for the charity gala next week..." Elena didn't even glance at Chloe. She kept her eyes on Julian. "Yes or no?" Julian started to panic. Elena's eyes used to light up whenever she looked at him. Even when she was angry, there was fire in them. Now there was nothing. He hid his unease. "Good. You've finally learned to solve your problems with money." He had his secretary draw up the transfer papers right away, then took the yellow diamond necklace out of the safe and tossed it on the table. "You've got what you wanted. Now go back to playing your part as Mrs. Vaughn. I'm taking Chloe to her follow-up appointment tonight." Julian watched Elena closely, waiting for jealousy, for resentment, for anything. Elena just took the jewelry box and the paperwork and nodded. "Okay. I hope everything goes well for you two." Julian watched her walk away, her slender frame looking frail. He could have sworn he smelled blood. "Elena, what's that smell? Are you hurt?" "No." Elena kept her back to him. "I haven't showered in three days. I smell like the cheap motel I stayed at." 3 "If the smell bothers you, Mr. Vaughn, I can sleep in the guest room." With that, she walked into the guest room, shut the door, and locked it. The moment the door closed, Elena's legs gave out, and she slid to the floor. The loan shark had already sent three texts demanding payment. One included an attachment. The attachment was a photo taken during the kidnapping, showing Elena covered in blood. "Mrs. Vaughn, you have 18 hours left. If you don't pay up, every major news outlet will have this photo by tomorrow morning." Without hesitation, she sold the yellow diamond and put up the beach condo as collateral for another loan. She was still far short of the amount she needed. Elena peeled the gauze off her chest. The wound underneath was badly infected. She didn't make a sound. She didn't even dare go to the hospital. If she went to the hospital, the police would get involved, and Julian would learn the truth. After cleaning the wound, she applied her makeup flawlessly, covering every last visible mark. Julian didn't get home until evening. He looked relaxed. When he saw Elena sitting on the sofa, he gave her an approving look. He liked her polished and glamorous. This was the perfect wife he wanted. "There's a private preview tonight," Julian said, as if he were doing her a favor. "Christie's Asia president will be there. Haven't you been wanting me to introduce you? Go change. I'll take you." In the past, Elena would have seen it as an olive branch, a sign that he wanted to fix their marriage. But now, she simply closed the file and asked in a flat voice, "Is Chloe going?" Julian paused, then frowned out of habit. "Chloe studied art. She needs to make connections tonight. Don't start being unreasonable again." "I'm not." Elena stood up. "Since Ms. Bennett is going too, let's make a deal." "What deal?" "There's a painting expected to fetch two million dollars at tonight's auction. Buy it in my name." Julian laughed in disbelief. "Elena, what's gotten into you today? Suddenly obsessed with money? The condo transfer just went through, and you haven't even had a chance to wear the yellow diamond. Now you're already asking for more? "Didn't you used to hate all this? You always said all you wanted was a simple life with me." Elena stepped forward and held out her hand, palm up. "People change. The only money you can count on is the money already in your hands. "Buy it in my name, and I'll play the perfect wife tonight. Say no, and I'm going back to my room to sleep." Julian stared at her, his eyes sharp. But he couldn't read her at all. To him, Elena had finally become just as materialistic as everyone else. It disappointed him a little, but more than anything, it made him feel in control. As long as she wanted money, he'd always be the one holding her leash. "Deal. As long as you behave yourself tonight." At the preview that evening, Elena was flawless. Arm in arm with Julian, she smiled and worked the room, moving from one wealthy, influential guest to the next. Halfway through the night, Chloe accidentally stepped on the hem of Elena's dress and spilled red wine all down the front of it. Looking panicked, Chloe said at once, "I'm so sorry, Elena. I didn't mean to. The carpet's so slippery..." Instinctively, Julian stepped in front of Chloe and shot Elena a warning look. The old Elena would already have been in tears, demanding to know why Chloe would stoop to such a dirty trick. Instead, she simply pulled out a tissue, calmly dabbed at the stain, and even smiled at Chloe. "It's fine. It'll wash out." Surprise crossed Julian's face, then gave way to a satisfaction he'd never felt before. When the bidding started, Julian bought the painting for two million dollars without a moment's hesitation. In the parking garage, Julian turned to look at Elena beside him. In the dim light, she was breathtaking. He reached for her hand. "Elena, as long as you keep being reasonable, we won't have any problems." But the moment his fingers brushed the back of her hand, Elena jerked it away like she'd been burned. Julian's hand froze in midair. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Julian watched her walk away, and that panic rose up in him again. What he didn't know was that the second Elena stepped into the elevator, she called a buyer. "I have a two-million-dollar painting from tonight's auction. It's yours at a discount. Wire the money within half an hour. We'll transfer the title as soon as the sale settles." The final payment notification popped up. The final payment, combined with everything else she'd already sold, brought her total to exactly ten million. She transferred the full ten million, settling the debt once and for all. Then she destroyed every IOU and every record tied to the blackmail. Paid off. 4 This was the money she'd used to buy back her life, scraped together one handout at a time. She'd paid it back bit by bit, with Julian's coldness, favoritism, and every handout he'd thrown her way. She didn't owe anyone anything anymore. Then Elena took out the divorce papers she'd prepared long ago. When Julian woke up, the other side of the bed was empty. Last night's preview was still vivid in his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Elena had pulled her hand away. "Sulking again." Julian smiled wryly. As far as he was concerned, Elena had gotten the painting she wanted. Now her pride had kicked in, and she was acting cold just to hold on to the last shred of her dignity. She'd accepted assets worth more than ten million dollars. That meant she'd accepted the rules of the game. He strolled leisurely out of the bedroom. "Elena, make two cups of coffee. I have a meeting at ten this morning." His voice echoed through the empty living room. No smell of coffee. No toaster popping. Just silence. Julian frowned and headed for the guest room. The door was open a crack. He pushed it open, and what he saw stopped him cold. The bed was neatly made. The closet doors stood wide open, and there was nothing inside. Every trace of Elena was gone. The photo of the two of them that had once sat front and center was gone, too. Only the empty frame remained. "Elena?" Julian called her name again, louder this time, and hurried back to the living room. The dining table was bare except for a single document. Divorce papers. Elena had signed her name with so much force that the pen had torn through the paper. There was a note, too. "I took the ten million and used it to pay off my debts. As for the dollar you sent me, consider it your tip. Keep the change." Julian stared at the note, his shock giving way to a dark fury. "Ten million... to pay off her debts? And the dollar was my tip?" It sounded like the most ridiculous joke he'd ever heard. "Elena Vaughn, you're still playing games with me!" He crushed the divorce papers into a ball. To him, this was just Elena's usual drama taken to the next level. She'd run away for three days, and now that she'd gotten the condo, the yellow diamond, and the painting, she'd gone so far as to fake divorce papers just to scare him. How could she leave me? Without me, what would she even have? Didn't her social circle and all her elite connections come through me? "You think running off with ten million makes you independent?" Julian scoffed and dialed Elena's number. "We're sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service..." Julian hung up and called the Vaughn family's private banker. "Put an immediate hold on every account my wife can access. Trace every cent she's moved." The banker hesitated. "Mrs. Vaughn requested that we close all her accounts ten minutes ago." "Closed? "Where does she get the nerve to close her accounts!" Before he'd even finished, the doorbell rang, sharp and urgent. Irritated, Julian went over and yanked the front door open. "Elena, your little game ends right here..." The moment the door swung open, Julian's voice cut off. FBI agents and police officers stood outside, staring at him as if he were a suspect in a major felony case. "Julian Vaughn?" "I am." Julian's arrogance returned. "If this is about a tax investigation, contact my legal team." The stone-faced detective pulled out a bloodstained evidence bag and held it up in front of Julian. Inside was a length of blood-soaked rope and a few long strands of hair with bits of scalp still attached. "Mr. Vaughn, we're not here for you. "We're here about a kidnapping that happened four days ago."