She Made Her Fortune By Selling Things On The Street

On Christmas, I called for two handsome guys to play cards with me at a club on a whim. But things took a turn when the police showed up and arrested us. They told me to call someone to come pick me up.

I was stumped. I'm an orphan. My father had saved Sebastian Hemsworth's father's life ten years ago, and on his deathbed, he entrusted me to him. That was how I ended up married to Sebastian.

Our relationship was purely transactional. Sebastian gave me a monthly allowance, and I stayed out of trouble. But, desperate to leave the police station, I mustered the courage to call him.

"Hello." His voice was deep, hoarse, and tinged with weariness.

I took a deep breath and whispered, "I got into trouble. Can you come pick me up?"

"Address." His tone was indifferent, almost dismissive.

I pressed my lips. "Maple Grove Street Police Station."

"Hm?" Sebastian hesitated briefly before asking, "Do you need a lawyer?"

"No." I didn't dare to admit over the phone that I was detained on suspicion of soliciting.

Half an hour later, Sebastian arrived. As the police explained the situation, his expression remained calm, but I could feel the coldness radiating from him.

After the officers had lectured me for half an hour, Sebastian dragged me to the car. Once we were alone, his gaze bore into me like a wolf on the prowl. He said nothing, just staring.

His silence weighed on me, so I finally blurted out, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to? So, you just wandered in by accident?" Sebastian's words were laced with sarcasm, his smile more menacing than friendly.

I knew there was no point in making excuses, as no one would believe I hired those gigolos just for a card game. So, I decided to throw in the towel.

"Do you want a divorce then?" I looked up at him, my eyes wide and pleading. After all, I've been getting 500,000 dollars a month as an allowance. In the three years we've married, I've saved over five million. I could even set up a street stall and do a few designs to make money. It would easily support me until I finish my graduate studies. After that, I could open my own small shop.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, the coldness in them cutting like a knife. "What do you mean by that?"

"We don't like each other, so why not just end it?" I lowered my head, thinking about the best spot to set up a street stall.

Sebastian was exasperated. He nodded, and his tone was cold. "Next month, your allowance will be cut in half. If I hear this nonsense again, I'll cut it off completely!"

"Then so be it," I snapped, turning on my heel and stepping out of the car. I hailed a taxi and left without looking back.

After my bold declaration, I quickly put my plan to sell on the street into action. When I got back, I rented a frog costume, bought a bunch of stuffed toys, inflated them all, and set up a stall outside the university gates, selling my "kids."

The toys might seem childish to elementary kids, but they were just quirky enough for college students. My "kids" were nearly sold out within an hour, and I had made around 300 dollars. Just as I fantasized about which mansion to buy with my earnings, a voice suddenly called out from behind me.

"Hey, you there in the frog suit! You can't sell here without a permit!" A security guard came running toward me.

Hearing this, I instinctively dropped my toys and bolted. "Take my toys! If you took them, you can't catch me!"

"What am I supposed to do with your toys? Stop right now, or if I catch you, there's gonna be a fine!" The guard shouted as he chased after me.

I was absolutely convinced he couldn't catch up to me. After all, I was the 800-meter champion back in the day. There was no way he'd keep up. Unfortunately, this street was 801 meters long, and he got me.

The guard bent over, panting heavily, and finally straightened up. "Take off that headpiece."

I clung to my costume's headpiece like my life depended on it. "No way! This frog's keeping its head on."

"If you don't take it off, I'll confiscate all your toys. Don't think I won't."

"I don't believe you."

The next second, the red light flashed, and I ran again. But in my haste, I didn't notice a car heading straight for me. The driver slammed the brakes, but it was too late. I blacked out from the impact.

I was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. Thankfully, it was just a mild concussion. The driver was quite responsible, covering my medical expenses and compensating me with an additional 10,000 dollars.

Back home, I pulled out my notebook and jotted down the day's earnings: [Day 1 of street vending: Sold 43 toys, net profit of 300 dollars. Due to the accident, I received 10,000 dollars in compensation. Total earnings for the day: 10,300 dollars. Taking tomorrow off. Injured, need a month to recover.]

"See? Making money isn't that hard," I thought.