My Billionaire Husband Gave Me Just $500, So I Auctioned Off His Three Kids

The Hargrove shipping dynasty had a long-standing belief that the more children a family had, the more prosperous it would become. The family even made it a publicly announced rule.

A new wife who had one child would receive a million dollars a month in living expenses. With two children, she'd get ten million a month. With three, a hundred million.

I was one of the lucky ones. After I married Spencer, I conceived triplets on my first try.

But when I left the delivery room, the money deposited into my account amounted to just a hundred dollars.

I fainted on the spot.

When I woke up, my phone had already been confiscated, and I'd been shipped off to recuperate in a tiny fishing village with no running water or electricity.

After five months of living on dried fish, I couldn't take it anymore.

I snatched a passing tourist's phone and started a livestream.

"I'm auctioning off Spencer Hargrove's children! Six hundred dollars each, or take all three and get twenty percent off!"

The stream quickly filled with viewers.

Spencer joined the livestream using his max-level, verified account.

"So I didn't buy you a private jet. Celeste, do you really have to throw a fit over it?"

"Even with all my money, five hundred million in cash is already my limit. Stop pushing your luck!"

I froze, clutching my three babies. They were just as starved and emaciated as I was.

How much? Five hundred million?

But in all the time since giving birth, I'd received only five hundred dollars!

The moment Spencer spoke, the comments came pouring in.

"Took five hundred million and still plays poor? She's gone money-crazy."

"A woman like her should be thrown in the river. She's using her own kids as bargaining chips!"

"Mr. Hargrove, call the police. This is straight-up extortion!"

I watched the screen fill with abuse.

I felt nothing. Not a thing.

Let them curse. Hunger is worse than any insult in the world.

Ever since giving birth, I'd been stuck in this remote fishing village.

There was nothing on the island but dried fish.

Fresh water had to be bought with money. Vegetables and fruit cost a fortune.

As for formula, I didn't even dare to dream of it.

I held my three babies in my arms, their little faces gaunt and sallow with hunger. Even their cries had dwindled to faint whimpers.

Just then, Spencer's request to join the stream popped up.

I accepted his request.

The screen lit up, but my eyes went straight to the sandwich beside Spencer's hand. I swallowed hard.

"Celeste, there's a limit to how far your tantrums can go."

"I've had Vanessa tell you over and over that I’ll buy you that jet. Just be patient."

"Have you been spending so much time lounging around on your private island that you've got nothing better to do than pull this ridiculous stunt?"

Spencer's voice was thick with disappointment.

Someone in the livestream chat who knew the backstory started explaining.

"Oh my God, isn't that the island Mr. Hargrove bought right after his wedding?"

"I heard that for that island, Mr. Hargrove passed up a villa right next to the financial center downtown!"

"I heard that too! Supposedly, it was all because Celeste mentioned online that she wanted to spend her postpartum recovery by the sea, lounging in the sun."

The chat filled with comments expressing envy and admiration.

I was completely lost.

A private luxury island?

On the other side of the screen, Spencer spoke, holding down his anger.

"I named that island Treasure Island. Celeste, you should understand what that means."

I laughed. I laughed until tears filled my eyes.

"I know. How could I not know?"

"That was the vow you made me when we married."

For five months, with no money to my name, I'd gone down to the shore every day to collect dead fish no one else wanted and boil them into soup.

Every time, I'd pass the stone monument at the island's entrance, with the words Treasure Island carved into it.

The monument also bore a story about a husband who sacrificed himself to save his wife and daughter.

When I first arrived, I didn't even have a place to live.

All I could do was hold my children and sleep beneath that stone.

Night after night, I'd stare at those two words—Treasure Island—and feel my heart break a little more.

When Spencer married me, he'd promised to cherish me as his most precious treasure.

Spencer let out a heavy sigh, his face drawn with exhaustion.

"I'll find the money for the private jet."

"The company's cash flow is tight right now. Just wait half a year. Half a year, all right?"

His tone softened, as though he were trying to soothe a child in the middle of a tantrum.

"I set you up with a team of a hundred postpartum nannies on that island. You have fresh ingredients flown in every day from overseas. All you have to do is lie in the sun and enjoy the breeze."

"Vanessa graduated top of her class from Harvard. She quit her job as group general manager just to take care of you. She went there to be your caretaker."

"What more could you possibly have to complain about?"

Complain.

What was there to complain about?

If only any of that had actually been true.

For the past five months, I'd done everything I could to save enough money to feed my three children.

I'd even fought over scraps of dog food.

Never mind Vanessa.

The childhood friend Spencer thought so highly of had been no help at all.

Before I went into the delivery room, she told me everything was arranged, and all I had to do was relax and deliver my babies.

Just then, the tourist whose phone I'd snatched poked his head out from behind me.

He leaned in and stared at Spencer on the screen, looking utterly bewildered.

"Huh, Mr. Hargrove, all this stuff you're talking about—is it some kind of fantasy?"

"I've been wandering around this island for half the day. How come I haven't seen a single bit of it?"

As he spoke, he took his phone back and slowly panned the camera around the island.

The ruined fishing shack creaked in the sea breeze, looking ready to collapse.

Mud and potholes stretched as far as the eye could see.

The camera swung back to me.

I stood there in rags, shaking uncontrollably in the cold sea breeze.

The three babies in my arms were wrapped in tattered cloth, their tiny bodies so frail and bony that they looked like three newborn kittens.

The tourist couldn't hide his disbelief.

"At first, I thought whoever grabbed my phone was some crazy old woman."

"Turns out she's the daughter-in-law of the Hargroves, New England's shipping dynasty?"

"Tsk, this high-society life really isn't fit for a human being. Look what it's done to her."

On the other end of the stream, Spencer's face turned livid.

"How could this be?"

"Vanessa sent me photos just yesterday—photos of you sunbathing on the beach in a bikini!"

"She said she had everything taken care of!"

I managed a bitter smile.

"I never saw any luxury island."

"After I had the babies, I opened my eyes and I found myself stranded on this island, surrounded by nothing but fish."

After three seconds of silence, the comments in the livestream turned against Spencer completely.

"Oh my God! Is Spencer an Oscar winner? He's over there playing the devoted-husband act?"

"He dumped his wife and kids on a wrecked island to die, then sat around getting all emotional over fake photos of her? Disgusting!"

"This isn't scum anymore. This is murder!"

I looked at Spencer's shocked, confused face and continued.

"If the babies hadn't come down with fevers, and there wasn't a single tablet of fever medicine to buy on this island, I wouldn't have done this."

A flicker of pain crossed Spencer's face, but irritation quickly overtook it. He still couldn't seem to understand what was happening.

"Then why didn't you contact me?!"

How had I not contacted him?

I'd spent the past five months trying every way I could think of to reach him.

I'd borrowed phones from tourists and even stolen them from fishermen.

But every message, every call, went unanswered.

I looked at Spencer, my voice hoarse.

"I couldn't reach you."

Spencer looked at me as if I were the one who'd let him down beyond repair.

"You couldn't reach me, so you couldn't think of any other way? You just let the kids suffer like this with you?"

I forced a smile more painful than tears.

With the Hargroves blocking every way out, what else could I have done?

At first, I'd naively assumed the Hargrove security system was simply set to block calls from unknown numbers.

So I turned to our mutual friends.

Every last one of them dodged my questions and told me to stop making trouble and enjoy my time on the island.

I had nowhere else to turn. Under cover of night, I stole a fisherman's boat and tried to row back to the harbor.

But every time I reached shore, someone knocked me out.

When I woke, I was back on that lonely island.

Again and again.

Who else in the entire harbor could have that kind of power except the Hargroves?

Looking at Spencer's face, which made it clear he thought I was an idiot, I didn't even have the strength left to explain.

I only said, "Spencer, it's fine if you don't want me, but you can't abandon the children."

"They really can't take much more."

I held the weakest of the three, the youngest, closer to the camera.

His little face was sunken and flushed a frightening red.

His cries were so faint and weak they were barely louder than a mosquito's buzz.

Just then, Vanessa cut into the livestream.

The moment she spoke, her tone turned accusatory.

"Celeste, haven't you made enough trouble?"

"Why would you sneak off the island and pull a stunt like this just to make Mr. Hargrove feel sorry for you?"

I froze at her words.

Act? What act?

Vanessa immediately shared a video on the livestream.

In the video, there I was, sneaking out of a villa on a luxurious island and climbing aboard a speedboat.

The shot then switched to the villa's nursery, where three plump, fair babies slept soundly.

Vanessa's face was clouded with hurt and disapproval.

"I told you long ago, Mr. Hargrove has been swamped with work preparing for the launch of his new ship."

"You not only ran off on your own, you even found three sick babies somewhere and used them to play the victim?"

Spencer's brows furrowed deeply.

"Is all of this an act of yours, Celeste?"

The tourist who had spoken up for me a moment ago went pale.

He frantically waved both hands at the camera.

"Mr. Hargrove, please don't come after me. I was just doing a job for money. I don't know anything!"

I stared at him, stunned.

"Before today, I had never once laid eyes on you!"

The man kept backing away, looking absolutely terrified.

"Mrs. Hargrove, don't drag me into this, and stop making a scene. Just hurry back with Mr. Hargrove and live a proper life."

Spencer's face turned icy.

"Celeste, stop acting. Is there no end to this?"

"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with this stunt?"

"If you want so badly to stop being Mrs. Hargrove, then once I'm finished with the new ship's launch ceremony, I'll come to the island myself and divorce you!"

The instant he finished, the livestream was cut off.

The screen went black.

I stared blankly at the screen as my last shred of hope vanished.

The child in my arms let out a faint cry. I reached out and touched his forehead. He was even hotter than before.

That tourist looked at me impatiently, urging me to hurry up.

"All right, everyone's gone, nobody's watching now. Stop the act and give the kid back to whoever he belongs to."

My eyes burned with tears as I stared at him, my voice trembling.

"Why did you lie?"

He looked at me as if I were the one pretending.

"Didn't you pay me a couple of days ago to come out here and help you put on this show? Otherwise, who'd come to a godforsaken place like this?"

I was completely bewildered.

Just then, his phone rang.

He answered, said a couple of words, then held the phone out toward me.

"It's for you."

On the other end was Vanessa's cold voice.

"Celeste, that man was hired by me. I just wanted you to stop looking for help outside the island once and for all."

"These past few months, I've nearly lost my mind covering up all your escape attempts."

Her voice dripped with contempt and mockery.

"Spencer knew you'd have triplets. He was afraid you'd get spoiled and full of yourself, so he wanted to teach you a lesson by making you rough it for a few months. Why can't you understand that? Do you really have to act like you're fighting for your life?"

I was shaking with rage. I couldn't stop myself from demanding an answer.

"Then what about the five hundred million we agreed on? The private island and the nanny team? Spencer clearly said he'd arranged all of it for me!"

Vanessa let out a cold laugh.

"There's no one on this island, so doesn't that make it a private island? And there's an old woman there who's given birth before. She's your nanny."

"As for the five hundred million, I did transfer it to you. Five hundred million Indonesian rupiah. Converted to dollars, that comes out to exactly five hundred."

The call ended.

The tourist took back his phone and walked away without a backward glance.

I held my feverish child and looked out at the vast, desolate sea in front of me.

Despair filled my chest.

In the end, I gritted my teeth and scraped together the last twenty dollars I had.

I borrowed a boat from a fisherman.

I was going to find Spencer and demand an explanation.

The Hargroves always chose an auspicious date to launch a new ship.

I figured out the timing, gathered the children, and rowed toward the harbor.

Partway there, the sky darkened without warning, and a sudden downpour hit.

This rickety old boat didn't even have a canopy.

All I could do was huddle over the three children, shielding them with a battered umbrella I'd found.

The freezing rain drenched me to the skin, chilling me to the bone.

Before long, I was running a fever myself.

By the time I'd finally made it to the harbor, a few boats pulled alongside.

The people aboard leaned out to look at me, their voices dripping with scorn.

"Isn't that the drama queen, Mrs. Hargrove, the one who livestreamed herself selling her kids?"

I forced an awkward smile and shook my head.

"No, you've got the wrong person."

Without even the slight smoothing effect of the livestream filter, I was dark and gaunt now, my hair a bird's nest of tangles.

Nothing about me suggested that I was married into a dynasty worth hundreds of billions.

They looked me over a few times, apparently convinced, and even tossed me a few rolls of bread and a bottle of water.

I wolfed it all down and managed to hang on until the Hargroves' ship launch ceremony.

The dock buzzed with voices as ribbons fluttered overhead.

Spencer stood at the center of the crowd, surrounded by people eager for his attention.

Standing beside him, in a custom-designed gown and covered in jewels, was Vanessa.

I raised the oar and waved it desperately, doing everything I could to catch his attention.

Spencer noticed me.

But he only frowned slightly and signaled to the bodyguard standing behind him with a glance.

A bodyguard in black strode to the water's edge and pulled a thick wad of cash from his wallet.

"Today's the Hargroves' big ship-launch day. Mr. Hargrove's giving you ten thousand. Consider it a little good-luck money."

When I didn't take it, his face hardened.

"It's not easy making it all the way out here to beg. Quit while you're ahead. Take the money and go."

A beggar.

So even standing right in front of him, he didn't recognize me.

Spencer would casually hand a beggar ten thousand dollars.

But he'd only given me five hundred to raise his children.

The youngest in my arms started fussing again, his little face flushed with fever.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and reached out to take the wad of cash.

My voice was so faint the wind could have whisked it away.

"Thank you, Mr. Hargrove. I'll keep it for myself."

I turned the boat around and rowed away, my heart aching.

If this was how things were going to be, why keep trying?

But the wind suddenly picked up, turning into a howling gale.

My little wooden boat capsized in seconds.

My heart lurched, but thank God the children were in the small wooden basin I'd prepared beforehand and were still safely afloat.

Gritting my teeth, I kept one hand on the basin and swam toward shore with all the strength I had left.

Just as I reached the shallows, I heard Spencer's voice.

He was holding a plump, pale baby, chatting casually with the business partners gathered around him.

Even as the people around him showered him with praise, he kept his brow furrowed.

"You'll have to forgive the spectacle, everyone. It's an important day for the Hargroves, and Celeste still has to throw a tantrum and refuse to show her face."

"I honestly worry the children will take after her someday. No matter how much I give, it's never enough for her."

He sighed, looking utterly helpless.

"The truth is, I was all set to order a private jet today."

"The moment Celeste apologizes and admits she was wrong, I'll buy it for her."

That was when I couldn't take it anymore.

I snatched up a clump of seaweed and hurled it at Spencer with the last of my strength.

"Spencer, I did nothing wrong!"

The slimy seaweed splattered across his face, but he didn't get angry. He only stared at me in the water, stunned.

"Celeste? Why are you in the water?"

He rushed to the edge of the dock and reached down to pull me up.

"Come up, quick! The water's freezing. You're frail; you can't stand being cold."

His voice was frantic, as if he truly cared about me.

"Stop sulking at me. Whatever you want, I'll find a way to buy it for you."

"It's only money, isn't it? If you want a billion, I'll scrape it together for you!"

I knocked his hand away, tears streaming down my face.

"Spencer, stop acting!"

"I went through hell to give you three children, and you made me eat rotting dried fish, live in a leaking shack, and refused to give me a single clean set of clothes!"

I was crying so hard I could barely catch my breath.

"A billion? Another billion in Indonesian rupiah, which works out to a thousand dollars?"

"Spencer, do you even know? How did I survive on those five hundred dollars for the past five months?!"

Under the dock lights, Spencer's face turned deathly pale.