Pregnant and Abandoned: My Billionaire Ex Regretted Leaving When the Lawsuit Revealed the Truth

The fluorescent lights of the pharmacy hummed, a low drone that drilled into Sarah’s migraine. She placed the bottle of prenatal vitamins and a pre-packaged turkey sandwich on the counter. Her hands were trembling.

"That’ll be forty-two fifty," the clerk said, not looking up from his phone.

Sarah swiped the heavy black platinum card—the one that used to open every door in the city.

Beep.

"Declined," the clerk said flatly.

"That’s impossible." Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. "Try it again. It’s a joint account."

She wiped the magnetic strip on her thrift-store maternity jeans, her heart hammering against her ribs. Julian had threatened to ruin her, but surely not this fast? Surely not before she could eat?

The clerk swiped it again. Aggressively.

Transaction Denied. Card Reported Stolen.

"Stolen?" The clerk’s eyes narrowed. He pulled the card back, out of Sarah’s reach. "System says the owner flagged this. I’m gonna have to cut it."

"No!" Sarah lunged, but he was too quick. He snipped the plastic in half with a pair of scissors.

"I am the owner!" Sarah cried, her voice cracking. She fumbled for her phone and dialed the bank's VIP line. Her fingers felt like ice.

"Mrs. Blackwood," the operator’s voice was automated and cold. "Access to this account has been suspended by the primary holder due to suspected fraud. Please visit a branch with valid identification."

Sarah lowered the phone. Julian hadn’t just cut her off; he had branded her a criminal.

"Look, lady," the clerk sneered, tossing the sandwich back into a bin behind him. "You want to pay with cash, or are you just wasting my time?"

"I... I really need the vitamins," Sarah pleaded, barely a whisper. "Please. My baby has a condition..."

"Not my problem." The clerk leaned over the counter, his voice rising. "Get out before I call the cops. We don't serve grifters here."

The security guard by the automatic doors took a step forward, his hand resting on his belt. The line of customers behind her muttered in disgust.

Humiliation, hot and prickly, flushed Sarah’s neck. She turned and fled, the bell above the door jingling like a mockery as she stepped out into the cold, empty street.