The 0% Dad Is A Secret Bitcoin King

CHAPTER 2: UNMASKED

The phone in Garrett’s hand vibrated, the name Evelyn flashing across the screen.

​His fingers trembled as he picked it. For five years, seeing her name on his screen had brought a wave of warmth—a reminder of why he worked until his hands were calloused. Now, after seeing her standing across the street beside another man, the sight of her name made his stomach churn.

​He pressed the phone to his ear.

​"Garrett," her voice came through, flat and cold. "Don’t bother stopping home tonight. There’s an unexpected parent-child event at Toby’s school, so we’ll be coming home late."

​Garrett’s eyes stayed fixed on her through his dusty windshield. Across the street, Evelyn laughed softly at something the man had just whispered in her ear.

​"A school event?" Garrett’s voice was raspy, barely above a whisper. He squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

"Is it... just the two of you? Or is someone joining you?"

​On the sidewalk, Evelyn stiffened instantly.

​"What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, her tone turning sharp and defensive. "Are you interrogating me now? Is this divorce making you completely paranoid, Garrett?"

​A bitter laugh caught in Garrett’s throat, but he kept his mouth shut.

​"Look at yourself," she scoffed into the receiver. "You're being ridiculous. I'm choosing to overlook this question just once for the sake of our past, but don't you ever tone-police me or question me like that again. Do you understand?"

​Before he could answer, Evelyn hung up.

​Through the windshield, Garrett watched her lower the phone. She turned back to the man in the suit, saying something with a smirk.

Though Garrett couldn't hear her words, the movement of her lips was unmistakable: Handled. He’s so easy to manipulate.

​The man chuckled, giving her an approving nod before opening the rear door of the black Bentley. Little Toby hopped inside, laughing happily, followed by Evelyn.

​The luxury car pulled away from the curb, merging slowly into traffic heading toward the highway that led to the city's amusement park.

​Inside his beat-up car, Garrett’s chest heaved, his heart racing than it always was.

​A sudden wave of fury hit him. Every instinct screamed at him to slam his foot on the pedal, chase down that Bentley, and push it off the road. He wanted to tear off the mask she had worn for five agonizing years.

​He slammed his fist against the steering wheel again and again until his knuckles throbbed with dull pain.

​When the rush of adrenaline finally subsided, a cold, heavy silence filled the car.

​It was all a lie.

​Every single year.

​The guilt he had carried for half a decade—the agonizing feeling that he was a failure as a husband because he couldn't give her luxury—was nothing but a sick joke.

​She hadn't left him because she was "tired of struggling." She had used his love and guilt to bleed him completely dry. He had skipped meals, worn hole-ridden shoes, and worked himself to exhaustion just so she could buy brand-name clothes.

And when she was done leeching off him, she had manipulated him into signing away their house, their car, and every dollar left in their joint account in the divorce settlement.

​And Toby…

​Garrett closed his eyes as a sharp, piercing pain hit his chest.

​“Daddy!”

​The sound of his five-year-old son shouting that word with joy—not to him, but to a total stranger—echoed in his head.

​Suddenly, all the pieces crashed together with grim clarity—

​Why she had demanded a divorce out of nowhere a month ago! Why she hid her phone under her pillow every night! Why Toby had looked at Garrett with cold indifference whenever he brought home cheap toys from his night shifts!

​The other man wasn't new. He was back.

​And Toby... was Toby even his biological son?

​The thought sent a chill straight down Garrett's spine. His breath caught in his throat.

​"No..." he whispered into the quiet car. "You don't get to ruin me and walk away."

​Taking a deep breath, Garrett pulled out his phone. He opened a browser and searched state legal codes regarding marital property and divorce cooling-off periods.

​His eyes scanned the dense legal text until he found the specific statutes on separate personal property.

​A long, quiet breath of pure relief escaped his chest.

​Because the Bitcoins had been given to him as collateral fifteen years ago—long before he ever met Evelyn—and had remained untouched in an unliquidated digital wallet, they were legally classified as his separate property.

​As long as he didn't transfer or deposit those funds into their shared bank accounts before the divorce was finalized, Evelyn wasn't legally entitled to a dime.

​Not one cent of his one billion dollars would ever reach her hands.

​The raw grief in Garrett’s eyes slowly cleared, replaced by a quiet resolve. The naive, self-sacrificing fool who had suffered in silence for five years was gone.

​He leaned back against the headrest, staring at the empty school gates, his next course of action becoming clear.

​First, he needed to find an offshore, legal way to cash out a portion of the Bitcoins into clean capital without raising red flags.

​Second, he was going to hire the best private investigators in the city. He would find out every single secret about the man, and he would get a secret DNA sample from Toby to test paternity once and for all.

​And third…

​Garrett looked down at the divorce paperwork sitting on his passenger seat. He picked up his pen and pulled the asset transfer waiver toward him.

​He was calling off the expedited agreement.

He refused to hand over his house, his car, or any he owned to the woman who had betrayed him.

​If she wanted a war, he was going to give her one—and this time, he had a billion dollars behind him.