I had just given birth, but my mother-in-law and my husband’s mistress immediately handed me divorce papers — they thought I was penniless, but they were shocked when the hospital directors arrived and bowed to me: “Ma’am, the helicopter is ready.”
My name is Celine.
I had just finished giving birth to our first child, my husband Jason’s and mine.
I was lying on the hospital bed, exhausted, holding our baby—Baby CJ.
I thought this was going to be the happiest day of my life.
I thought Jason would arrive carrying flowers and balloons.
But the door opened.
Jason walked in.
He wasn’t holding any flowers.
Behind him was my mother-in-law, Doña Miranda, whose eyebrow was always raised whenever she looked at me.
And even more shocking—Tiffany was with them. Jason’s ex-girlfriend, whom Doña Miranda constantly compared me to because she was supposedly “from a rich family,” while I was just a “poor provincial girl.”
“Jason?” I asked weakly. “Why are they with you? Where are your flowers?”
Jason didn’t answer. He just looked down.
Doña Miranda stepped forward and threw a brown envelope onto my bed, nearly hitting my baby.
“No flowers, Celine,” my mother-in-law said coldly. “We brought divorce papers.”
(Annulment in the Philippine context, but they called it divorce because of their so-called wealth.)
“W-What?!” I hugged my child tightly. “Ma’am, I just gave birth! Jason, what does this mean?!”
Jason finally spoke, but he couldn’t look at me.
“Sorry, Celine. I can’t do this anymore. You’re just… too poor. You don’t fit into our lifestyle. Tiffany will help me grow the business. You? You’re just a burden.”
Tiffany laughed and clung to Jason’s arm.
“Sorry, girl. Jason needs a trophy wife, not a milk-smelling housewife. Don’t worry—we’ll adopt the baby. We’ll raise him in the mansion.”
“You will NEVER take my child!” I shouted, even though my stitches burned in pain.
“Oh yes we will,” Doña Miranda replied. “You have no job. No money. No family here in Manila. Do you really think the court would give custody to a beggar? Sign it and leave once you’re discharged. We already paid your ward bill. That’s all you can afford.”
I looked at them.
Jason—the man I loved, for whom I hid my true identity just to experience a simple life.
Doña Miranda—who acted rich but whose company was drowning in debt.
And Tiffany—with all her fake designer bags.
I wiped my tears.
“Are you sure about this, Jason?” I asked calmly. “Once I sign this, there’s no turning back.”
“Just sign it already! You’re so dramatic!” Tiffany snapped.
I took the pen and signed the papers.
“Fine. You’re free now, Jason.”
I handed the documents to Doña Miranda.
“Good,” the old woman sneered. “Now give us the baby. We’re leaving. Guards will escort you out.”
Tiffany was about to grab my baby when—
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The door opened.
The Hospital Director, Dr. Altamirano, entered—followed by five lawyers in suits and several bodyguards.
Jason froze.
“Dr. Altamirano?” Doña Miranda said in surprise. “Why are you here? Oh, are you here to congratulate me on my new grandchild?”
The Director ignored her.
He walked straight to me.
To everyone’s shock, the Director and the lawyers bowed deeply in front of my bed.
“Good morning, Madame Chairman,” the Director said respectfully. “We apologize for the disturbance. We heard someone was causing trouble. Should we call security?”
CHAIRMAN?
Jason’s eyes widened.
Doña Miranda turned pale.
Tiffany dropped her bag.
“M-Madame Chairman?!” Jason stammered. “Doctor, you’re mistaken! That’s just Celine! She’s just a provincial girl!”
I turned to them.
My face was no longer tear-stained—it was the face of a billionaire.
“Provincial?” I smiled. “Yes, I’m from the province. But I forgot to mention… that province? I own half of it.”
“Let me introduce myself properly,” I said, fixing my hair.
“I am Celine Vandelia, the sole heir of the Vandelia Group of Companies—the corporation that owns this hospital, the bank you owe money to, and the land where your old mansion stands.”
“V-Vandelia?!” Doña Miranda screamed, turning ghostly white. The Vandelia Group was the richest conglomerate in the country.
“I hid my wealth because I wanted to find a man who would love me not for my money,” I said while looking at Jason, whose knees were trembling. “I thought it was you. But you proved that money was all you wanted.”
I turned to my lawyer.
“Attorney, what’s the status of Jason’s family loan with our bank?”
“Ma’am,” the lawyer replied, “it’s been overdue since last month. Since they failed to pay, we can foreclose all their properties immediately.”
“Do it,” I ordered. “Reclaim the mansion. Repossess the cars. Freeze all their accounts.”
“Celine! Please don’t!” Jason dropped to his knees. “I’m your husband! We have a child!”
“Ex-husband,” I corrected him, pointing to the signed papers. “You were the one rushing for this, remember? Wish granted.”
I turned to Tiffany.
“And you, Tiffany. Your boutique—wasn’t it located in Vandelia Mall? Consider your lease canceled. You’re banned from all my properties.”
“T-This can’t be happening! I’m rich!” Tiffany cried.
“Rich in debt,” I replied.
“Guards,” I said calmly.
“Take out the trash. They’re stressing my baby.”
“Celine! Daughter! Forgive Mommy!” Doña Miranda screamed as the guards dragged her away. “We were just joking! We love you!”
“Mommy?” I raised an eyebrow. “Last time you spoke to me, I was a beggar, right? Well now you’ll learn what it feels like to hit rock bottom.”
The three of them were dragged out, begging and crying.
Only my baby, the Director, and the lawyers remained.
“Ma’am Celine,” the Director said, “the private penthouse suite is ready. The helicopter is on standby if you wish to go to your private island.”
I smiled and kissed my baby’s forehead.
“Thank you, Doctor. But we’ll stay here for now. I need to rest.”
I looked at my child.
“Don’t worry, Baby CJ. You don’t need a money-hungry father. I can raise you myself. I can even buy the whole world for you if I have to.”
EPILOGUE
A week later, I heard that Jason and Doña Miranda had been kicked out of their mansion. They were now living in a small apartment. Tiffany left Jason the moment she found out he was broke.
Jason now works as a messenger—
in my company.
But he can’t approach me because of the restraining order.
Me?
I’m living happily with my child.
I learned that true wealth isn’t measured by money, but by love.
But I’ll admit… it feels good to use money to teach bullies a lesson.
The beggar from before—
is now the owner of the land.
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