Scored To Zero By My Billionaire Husband

1 Ever since I married into the Mercer family, my existence had been reduced to a monthly domestic audit. One hundred points to start. Every point deducted stripped away a hundred dollars from the household allowance. If the balance hit zero, Orion and I were left with nothing. The notification chimed on my cracked phone screen just as I collapsed onto my knees before the emergency admissions window at St. Jude’s Children’s Annex. In my arms, Orion was burning at a hundred and four degrees. His five-year-old body shook with violent, rhythmic tremors, his small heels drumming against my ribs. The triage physician’s face was grim under the fluorescent strips. "It’s acute bacterial meningitis, Mrs. Mercer. His intracranial pressure is spiking. We have to transfer him to the pediatric intensive care unit across town immediately, but because your family’s trust policy has lapsed, the private transport and immediate neuro-intervention require a twenty-five-thousand-dollar deposit upfront." My fingers were shaking so violently I could barely enter my passcode. The screen glowed with the Mercer Family Trust portal: Subject: Nora Mercer — Monthly Conduct Ledger Infraction: Intentionally exposing the child to inclement weather: -30. Infraction: Damaging the Dowager’s antique lithograph during cleaning: -30. Infraction: Scuffing Sadie’s bespoke silk gown in the drawing room: -40. Final Score: 0. Status: Monthly living stipend revoked. Zero. A high-pitched ringing flooded my ears, drowning out the hiss of oxygen valves and the clatter of stainless-steel carts. In my lap, Orion’s forehead radiated heat like an iron stove. His tiny fingers clawed weakly into the hem of my thin trench coat. His breath came in shallow, rattling gasps. "Mommy..." his voice was barely a thread of silk drifting away into the cold air. "Did I... did I make you lose your points again?" A knife twisted in my throat. I pressed my dry lips against his burning temple, choking back the bile. "No, baby. No. Orion is the best boy in the whole world. Mommy made a mistake, that's all. It’s Mommy’s fault." Behind the glass, the billing clerk’s voice turned clipped. "Ma'am? Can you authorize the card? We cannot dispatch the critical-care ambulance without the clearance." I dialed Harrison’s private line. The phone rang until the very last second before the call connected. Instantly, the background noise bled through: orchestral strings, the clinking of crystal flutes, a little girl’s melodic, pampered laughter. "Harrison," I gasped, my dignity crumbling into raw, ragged begging. "Orion has acute meningitis. They need to transfer him for emergency surgery right now. He’s having seizures. I need twenty-five thousand dollars. Please, Harrison, just authorize the wire—" The line went quiet for two beats. Then came Harrison’s familiar, low chuckle—a sound like frost creeping across a windowpane. "Your theatrical range is expanding, Nora. I’ll give you that." A cold sweat broke across my skin. "I’m not acting! He’s dying in my arms, Harrison!" "Two days ago you dragged him into the rain so you’d have an excuse for a doctor's bill," he said, each syllable clipped, measured, utterly devoid of warmth. "And now you escalate to meningitis? Do you genuinely believe that every time you invent a crisis with that kid, I’m going to open the vault and drop cash into your greedy palms?" I pulled Orion closer against my chest, feeling his tiny heart hammering like a trapped bird. "He is your son!" "Shut your mouth." Harrison’s voice dropped an octave, venomous and sharp. "Don't you ever dare invoke that lie to me. When you took my mother’s half-million-dollar cashier's check three years ago to pack your bags and vanish, why didn't you stay gone? You crawled back with a bastard in your arms, expecting me to play the doting father? You wanted to be a Mercer? I gave you the ring. I gave you the title. But you’d better remember: I gave you a cage, not a blank check." My tears spilled over, splashing onto Orion’s flushed, twitching cheek. Five years ago, my mother was in the final stages of terminal heart failure. Harrison’s mother, Eleanor Mercer, had stood outside the hospice suite in her pristine cashmere coat, offering to cover the experimental clinical trials and cede board voting shares to Harrison—on the sole condition that I sever all ties with her son and disappear. I took the money. I took it because my mother was suffocating on her own fluids. I never foresaw that Harrison’s love would curdle into an all-consuming, psychotic hatred. Nor did I foresee that when he finally tracked me down and discovered I had a toddler, he would drag us back to his New England estate not out of affection, but as a calculated, ongoing punishment. You love money so much, Nora? he had told me on the day he forced our marriage license through. Then stay in this house. Let’s see how easy Mercer money is to swallow. I had endured it all because I naively thought Orion deserved a father. Yet inside the Mercer estate, Orion’s existence had been a long, quiet humiliation. If he needed liquid Tylenol, I had to hoard my conduct points to request a grocery allowance. His winter jacket had been an ill-fitting, faded fleece discarded by the head groundskeeper’s grandson. One night, when Orion coughed until he threw up blood, I ran down the grand spiral staircase to summon the on-call family physician. The head butler had stepped into the corridor, barring my path with cold professionalism. "Mrs. Mercer, your conduct score this month is below seventy. The Mercer private medical staff is reserved for certified family members in good standing." I had carried Orion three miles through the freezing sleet to a free community clinic. When I returned, Harrison docked twenty points from my ledger. The infraction on the sheet had read: Unsanctioned departure from the estate; degrading the family name in public. My nails bit into my palms until the skin split. "Harrison, I’m begging you. Loan it to me. Just loan me the twenty-five thousand. As soon as Orion is stable, I will sign whatever you want. I will take him and disappear off the face of the earth. You will never have to see our faces again." He laughed again, cold and bitter. "Running away again? You think you can recycle the same script from three years ago and use a child as your leverage?" "It’s real this time!" I cried, my voice shattering across the sterile hospital lobby. "Harrison, listen to me, it’s real!" "It was real when your mother died; it was real when you took the payout; it was real when you sold me out," he snarled, slamming every word down like a gavel. "And it’s just as real now that you're using this bastard to run another shakedown." My vision blurred into grey static. In my arms, Orion gave a sudden, violent lurch. His eyelids fluttered back, showing only the whites. A nurse rushed through the double doors, shouting toward the back. "Code Blue, pediatric triage! Respiratory arrest! Get the crash cart!" I could barely hold the receiver to my ear. "Harrison! Do you hear them? They're coding him! He’s going into the ICU!" "Then let the county hospital handle it," he said, his tone chillingly level. "Go take out a predatory loan if you're so desperate. But don't you dare think you'll extort another red cent from the Mercer name." Click. The line went dead. When I dialed back, an automated recording informed me that my number had been blocked. A second later, a news alert popped up on my lock screen. A trending notification from the local society gazette: Billionaire Harrison Mercer Buys Out Historic Oceanfront Pier for God-Sister Vivian Drake’s Daughter; Commissions Five-Carat Diamond 'Sadie Star' in High-Society Gala. Vivian Drake. My adopted foster sister—the woman Eleanor Mercer had taken in as her beloved goddaughter. In the high-resolution photo, Vivian’s daughter, Sadie, was perched in Harrison’s arms like an heiress, wearing a white custom tulle frock. Harrison was smiling down at her with a gentle, protective tenderness I had never once seen in his eyes. He had bought her a constellation. He had bought her an entire amusement pier under the fireworks. And my Orion was lying on a gurney behind swinging steel doors, his life hanging on twenty-five thousand dollars. The admissions clerk thrust the financial liability waiver toward me. "Ma'am, we’re doing emergency stabilization, but without funding, the specialized neuro-transfer unit won't dispatch." I leaned against the linoleum wall, my knees giving out, sliding all the way to the floor. Just before the double doors swung shut, Orion’s eyes opened for a split second. The fever had robbed him of focus, but he turned his head toward my voice. "Mommy..." his lips barely moved against the oxygen mask. I threw myself against the glass. "Does... does Daddy not want me?" I pressed both hands over my mouth, suffocating my screams behind my teeth. The red emergency lamp above the door flared to life. My phone buzzed in my lap. It was the Mercer family butler, delivering Harrison’s final decree via the trust app: Notification: Mrs. Mercer engaged in malicious harassment and telephonic extortion against Mr. Mercer. Penalty applied. Current Ledger Score: -40. 2 I didn’t wait for my legs to stop shaking. I hailed an unlicensed cab with the crumpled twenty-dollar bill I had hidden in my shoe and sped toward the Mercer estate in Greenwich. The iron gates parted only after I stood under the security camera for ten minutes in the pouring rain. When the butler finally ushered me into the conservatory, Eleanor Mercer was sitting in a velvet wingback chair, nursing a cup of Earl Grey. She lifted her eyes, her lips pursing into a line of aristocratic disgust. I fell to my knees on the cold, polished Italian marble before her feet. "Eleanor... Mother. Orion has acute meningitis. The hospital needs twenty-five thousand dollars for the transport and the craniotomy. I am begging you. Save your grandson." Eleanor set her porcelain cup down with a delicate, precise clink. "Do not call me Mother." "You can hate me," I choked out, my forehead pressed against the freezing stone. "You can despise me forever. But Orion is innocent. He shares your blood." A dry, mocking sneer curled her lips. "A nameless stray born in some gutter? You think that child is worthy of a single dollar from the Mercer family trust?" My fingers curled against the marble, my fingernails scraping the stone. "He is Harrison’s son!" "Enough." She snatched the monthly evaluation printout from the side table and whipped it across my face. The sharp edge of the heavy parchment sliced across the corner of my mouth. A drop of warm copper welled on my lip. "The Mercer household runs on order," Eleanor said, looking down at me as if I were a grease stain on her Aubusson rug. "Your balance is below zero. You have forfeited your right to a single dime. And now you crawl in here demanding twenty-five thousand dollars?" Swallowing the blood in my mouth, I pressed my forehead back against the floor, bowing until my spine ached. "I will sign a promissory note. I will work as a maid in this house. I will scrub every floor with my bare hands to pay it back. Just wire the hospital the money." Eleanor watched me, her gaze cold, clinical, calculating. "You want the money that badly?" I snapped my head up, hope flaring like a sick ember. "Yes. Anything." The butler stepped forward from the shadows, placing a leather portfolio on the mahogany tea table. Eleanor nudged it toward me with the tip of her manicured finger. "Sign it." I leaned forward, my eyes scanning the crisp black typography. The blood drained from my face so fast the room seemed to tilt on its axis. Declaration of Paternity Renunciation and Asset Release: I, Nora Mercer, hereby acknowledge and declare that Orion Mercer is of unverified lineage and possesses no biological relation to Harrison Mercer. I voluntarily surrender all legal claims, custody rights, spousal support, and inheritance under the Mercer Family Estate, departing with null settlement. My hands shook until the paper rattled against the table. "He... he is Harrison’s flesh and blood. You know he is." Eleanor’s eyes turned venomous. "Then walk out that door without a cent." At that precise moment, her iPhone chimed on the table with a FaceTime alert. The icy frost on Eleanor’s face vanished instantly, replaced by an adoring, radiant warmth. She tapped the screen. "My little princess! Are you having the best birthday?" On the screen, little Sadie was sitting atop a gilded carousel horse under the dazzling lights of the pier. "Grandma! Daddy Harrison said the whole amusement park belongs to me tonight! Look at the fireworks!" Eleanor laughed, her voice dripping with doting affection, not even bothering to correct the child’s use of the word Daddy. "Of course it does, sweetheart. Whatever Sadie wants, the Mercer family gives you." I stayed frozen on the marble floor, listening to her shower that child with love. Orion had never received a single gentle word from this woman. The first time I brought him to the estate, Orion had spent three days meticulously drawing a family portrait with cheap crayons, presenting it to Eleanor with both hands, his eyes shining with shy hope. Eleanor had glanced at it for half a second before telling the maid to toss it into the incinerator because the waxy smell offended her sinuses. On the screen, Vivian leaned into the frame, her diamond earrings catching the carnival lights. She smiled softly. "Godmother, please don't spoil her too much. You know Harrison already treats her like royalty." Eleanor’s tone grew fiercely maternal. "You saved my life when that limousine caught fire five years ago, Vivian. Your daughter is my true granddaughter in spirit. If the Mercer family ever neglects you two, God will strike us down." The call ended. Eleanor turned her gaze back down upon me, the softness vanishing instantly into a razor-sharp sneer. "Sign. Or leave." I reached for the pen. My fingers trembled so hard I could barely form the letters. Every stroke of ink felt like carving out my own heart with a dull blade. Nora Mercer. I signed away my son’s name. I signed away his heritage. I branded him a bastard on paper, solely to keep his lungs pumping air. I threw the pen down and held out my trembling hands. "The check. Give it to me." Eleanor picked up the document, checked the signature, and smiled with cold satisfaction. Then she rose smoothly from her armchair. "The check isn't here." I froze, the air seizing in my throat. "What did you say?" "I already instructed the estate accountant to deliver the twenty-five-thousand-dollar draft to Vivian at the pier," Eleanor said, looking down her aristocratic nose at me. "It is Sadie’s birthday. Vivian has been under immense stress dealing with the press. You will go to the pier. You will apologize to Vivian and Sadie for your past insolence. When Vivian is satisfied with your contrition, she will give you the money." I bit my lip so hard I tasted iron. "You promised me!" "I promised you an opportunity to acquire the funds," she said smoothly, turning her back. "You were the one who rushed to sign." I lunged forward, but two private security guards immediately seized my shoulders, driving me back down onto the floor. Eleanor’s voice floated back as she walked toward the grand staircase. "Remember your place, Nora. And never dare suggest that stray has a drop of Mercer blood. The Mercer gate does not open for filth." They dragged me down the front steps and cast me out into the rain. My knees slammed into the gravel driveway, bruising deeply, but I didn't feel the pain. I dragged myself up and began to run. By the time I reached the pier, the sky was pitch-black. The entire boardwalk was ablaze with neon bulbs and roaring music. Massive digital banners projected Sadie’s face onto the side of the Ferris wheel. Fireworks bloomed across the night sky, their thunderous applause echoing over the dark ocean waves. I shoved past the private security cordons, soaking wet, shivering violently, and burst into the VIP pavilion. Vivian sat on an ivory leather sofa under a heat lamp, casually twirling a pastel-pink cashier’s check between her French-manicured fingers. When she saw me, her lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile. "Well, well. Look who dragged herself out of the gutter. You actually came, Nora." I stared at the check in her hand. "Give it to me." She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. "Is that how you ask for a favor?" My lungs felt scorched. "Orion is in the pediatric intensive care unit. His brain is swelling. Vivian, give me the check." "And why should I care about your little mistake?" Sadie sat beside her, swinging her patent-leather Mary Janes, holding a spun-sugar confection. "Mommy, is that the dirty lady? The one who tries to steal Uncle Harrison?" Vivian stroked Sadie’s curls, her smile sweet and venomous. "Yes, sweetie. That’s her." Then Vivian leaned forward, lowering her voice so only I could hear beneath the thumping bass of the music. "Nora, you used to be the golden girl back when our foster parents had money, didn't you? Always so dignified. So untouchable." Her eyes flared with cruel delight. "Get down on your hands and knees. Bark like a dog for me." My blood ran cold. "Vivian." She flicked the cashier’s check against her knuckles. "Isn't your little bastard about to flatline? Bark, Nora. Let’s see how much a mother’s love is worth." The world narrowed to the slip of paper in her hand. Orion’s dying face flashed behind my eyelids. I closed my eyes. "Woof." Vivian erupted into a peel of breathless, melodic laughter, her shoulders shaking. "God, Nora. You really are pathetic." I lunged forward, reaching for the paper. "Give it to me!" Vivian’s fingers casually relaxed. The twenty-five-thousand-dollar check slipped from her grasp, carried by the coastal gust right over the railing, fluttering down into the freezing decorative fountain below. The chlorinated water splashed, soaking the paper instantly. Vivian gasped, theatrically pressing her palm to her chest. "Oh dear! My hand slipped! Better fish it out before the ink bleeds, sister." I didn't hesitate. I vaulted over the stone balustrade and plunged into the icy water. The frigid fountain water rose past my knees, numbing my joints in seconds. I scrambled through the basin, my fingers brushing against the soggy paper, when a voice like cracked granite shattered the air behind me. "Nora." I turned. Harrison stood at the edge of the fountain, tall, imposing, impeccably tailored in a charcoal cashmere overcoat, silhouetted against the dazzling explosions of Sadie’s private fireworks. "What kind of unhinged spectacle are you staging now?" 3 I stood shivering in the dark fountain, the soaked cashier’s check clutched tightly in my numb fist. Behind Harrison, the boardwalk was alive with laughter, champagne toasts, and glowing carnival lights. I stood in the icy water like a drowned rat, an uninvited ghost at their grand celebration. Vivian’s eyes welled with tears in an instant. She pulled Sadie against her hip, her voice trembling with manufactured distress. "Harrison, please don't be angry with Nora," she pleaded, her throat hitching. "She’s just... she’s desperate for cash." Sadie buried her face in Vivian’s skirt, sobbing dramatically. "Uncle Harrison! That mean lady yelled at Mommy! She said I don't deserve a daddy, and she’s going to make Orion take everything away from me!" Harrison’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening into pure thunder. He stepped forward, bypassed me entirely, and lifted Sadie into his arms, resting her little head against his broad shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Sadie," he murmured, his hand gently patting the little girl’s back with a tenderness that hit me like a physical blow. Orion had begged for a hug like that. When Orion was shivering with a fever months ago, he had reached his small arms toward Harrison in the hallway. Harrison had stepped backward in disgust, warning me to keep the diseased child away from his suits. Yet the moment Vivian’s daughter shed a single tear, the ruthless titan of Mercer Global softened into a doting protector. Vivian dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "Nora told me Orion was on his deathbed and demanded twenty-five thousand dollars. I gave it to her, Harrison, but then she threw it in the water and started cursing at us. She said if I didn't give you back to her, she’d go to the tabloids and tell the world Sadie is fatherless..." Harrison turned his gaze toward me. There was no question in his dark eyes. No curiosity. Only a deep, bottomless revulsion. I dragged my soaked body out over the fountain rim, my knees hitting the concrete so hard the impact echoed in my skull. "Harrison, that’s a lie," I gasped, holding up the dripping slip of paper. "Orion is at St. Jude’s right now. He’s in septic shock. The doctors need this money for the craniotomy. Just come with me to the hospital. Come see him with your own eyes. Just once!" Harrison looked down at the soggy check in my hands. His lip curled into a sneer. "You really stop at nothing, do you?" Before I could react, he reached out and snatched the check from my frozen fingers. Without breaking eye contact, he tore the paper in half. Then into quarters. Then into tiny, dripping shreds. He opened his hand, letting the confetti fall back into the freezing fountain. My mind went blank. The world ceased to turn. "Harrison!" I screamed, a sound wrenched from the bottom of my soul. His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Disrupting Sadie’s birthday: minus fifty points." "Threatening Vivian and a minor: minus fifty points." "Fabricating a terminal illness to extort estate funds: minus one hundred points." He looked down at me as if swatting away a fly. "From this moment forward, your household allowance is terminated for the next quarter." I threw myself forward, catching the wet hem of his overcoat. "He will die! Harrison, Orion will die!" He jerked his coat away with such force that I fell flat against the wet pavers. "Then that is the natural consequence of having a mother like you." Vivian gently touched his elbow, her eyes cast downward, playing the role of the saintly mediator. "Harrison, please... don't be too harsh. Nora has always been like this. She knows how to manipulate people." Harrison looked at her, his voice softening. "You don't need to defend her, Vivian." "I’m not defending her," Vivian whispered softly. "She’s still my sister, even if our parents adopted me second. I just know her too well. Ever since we were girls, Nora knew exactly how to cry to get men to open their wallets. When she accepted your mother’s half-million dollars years ago, she bragged to me about how easy it was to milk the Mercer family." A violent tremor tore through my spine. "Vivian Drake, you lying parasite!" Vivian flinched dramatically, cowering toward Harrison’s chest. "You see? She gets violent every time she’s caught. Harrison... there’s something I’ve kept hidden for years because I was afraid of hurting you." Harrison frowned down at her. "What?" Vivian bit her trembling lower lip. "Orion’s birth certificate... Nora altered the dates. She doctored the clinic records before she came back to New York." A deafening roar filled my skull. "She planned this entire shakedown from the start," Vivian whispered. "And tonight, she came here to terrorize Sadie." Sadie instantly wrapped her arms around Harrison’s neck. "Uncle Harrison, I'm scared. Make the bad lady go away." The last ember of restraint in Harrison’s eyes died out, replaced by a cold, murderous fury. I scrambled up, charging toward him. "She’s lying! Harrison, run the DNA test! Send your own personal doctors! Test him! If you check the blood, you'll know he's yours!" Harrison’s hand shot out like an iron vice, clamping around my jaw. He squeezed so hard I heard the cartilage in my face groan. "Nora," he breathed, his face inches from mine, his eyes black as pitch. "You sicken me to the marrow of my bones." Tears of physical and emotional agony streamed down my cheeks. Yet I didn't break his gaze. "He is in the hospital," I choked out between clenched teeth. "He is five years old. All he ever wanted was for you to hold him the way you are holding that girl!" For a fraction of a second, something in Harrison’s eyes flickered—a dark, unsettled tremor. Vivian immediately coughed, a soft, pathetic sound. "Harrison... she told me earlier that if you didn't acknowledge the boy tonight, she’d have the press run stories calling you a deadbeat." The flicker vanished. Harrison released his grip with sudden force, stepping back as if he had touched raw sewage. He pulled a crisp silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and slowly, deliberately wiped each of his fingers. "Security," he said coldly. "Remove this trash from the premises." Two hulking guards immediately seized my arms, hauling me backward. "Harrison Mercer!" I screamed, thrashing against their grip, my voice tearing raw in my throat. "You will regret this! You will spend the rest of your life burning in hell for this!" He didn't even turn his head. "I've heard that threat a thousand times, Nora." At that exact second, the phone in my pocket began to shriek. I ripped my arm free from one of the guards and slapped the call button on speaker. The head pediatric nurse’s voice blasted through the speaker, breathless, cracked with panic. "Mrs. Mercer! Orion has entered status epilepticus! We’ve initiated manual bagging and transferred him to the trauma suite! We need the father to sign the surgical consent and authorization for the neuro-shunt right now! Where is he?!" I shoved the phone toward Harrison’s face. "Do you hear her?! Do you hear that?! He needs your signature to live!" Over the line, the monitor alarms shrieked—a chaotic chorus of high-pitched alerts. A surgeon shouted in the background: "Get the crash cart back in here! Pupils are fixed and dilated!" I dropped to my knees again, throwing my dignity, my pride, my soul into the dirt, slamming my head against the cold concrete before Harrison’s leather shoes. "Harrison, I swear on my life. I am not lying. Come with me to the hospital. Sign the papers. If he isn't your son, you can put a bullet through my head. Take my life to pay for it!" Harrison looked down at me from his towering height, his face an impenetrable mask of stone. "What makes you think your worthless life is worth twenty-five thousand dollars?" I lifted my head, my face covered in blood, rain, and tears. "Then what about Orion? What is his life worth to you?" Harrison was silent for three long, agonizing seconds. Then, his lips parted, and he spoke with absolute, terrifying clarity: "If he dies, good riddance. At least you won't be able to use him to hustle me anymore." The universe shattered. Something inside my chest snapped with a quiet, final crack. The guards seized my collar and hauled me across the asphalt, dragging me past the velvet ropes and throwing me into the alleyway beyond the gates. The skin on my palms tore open, leaving crimson smears against the gravel. My phone was still connected. Suddenly, the chaotic sirens on the other end of the line ceased. The background noise at the hospital collapsed into a vast, terrifying silence. A few seconds passed. Then, the nurse’s voice came back through the receiver, choked with heavy, broken sobs. "Mrs. Mercer..." She couldn't finish the sentence. "His heart... he’s gone. Time of death: eight forty-six PM." I lay prone on the freezing, filthy pavement. High above my head, the grand finale of Sadie’s private fireworks exploded in a shower of brilliant gold and crimson stars. The roar of the crowd echoed across the ocean, cheering for the little princess of the Mercer dynasty. And my Orion... my little star... had burned out in the dark.