Chapter 1I'm the biggest joke in Manhattan's elite circle.
All because when we split, I gave up billions in stock everyone would've killed for—took fifty million cash and bought out every coal yard in the city.
My ex trashed me publicly in the media:
"Without my empire, Brynn's basically a trash collector now."
His side piece went live flashing her giant ring:
"Some people are just born broke. All she's got left is a house full of dirty coal. That's her life now."
I looked at my phone, wiped the coal dust off my face, and smiled.
Because I already knew:
In three days, a blizzard's gonna bury this city, power's gonna die, and it's gonna drop a hundred forty degrees.
By then—
Money? Just gonna turn into expensive toilet paper. My coal's the real currency.
...
The lawyer slid the divorce papers across the table.
Hudson kept checking his Rolex, looking completely over it.
"Brynn, don't be stupid. You really think someone like you can handle billions in stock?"
"Sign it. Fifty million cash is yours—more than enough for the rest of your pathetic life."
His phone kept buzzing. I didn't need to look.
Obviously Sienna—his new girlfriend. Soon-to-be Mrs. Ashford.
I squeezed that pen so tight my knuckles went white, veins popping.
Ten years. I gave him ten years—gave up my career, became his perfect little housewife while he built his empire from scratch.
And now? This is all I get?
Just as I was about to throw the pen and walk out, my Golden Retriever jumped onto my lap.
A kid's voice echoed in my head.
"Mom! Sign it! Quick! Three days till the freeze hits! Temperature's gonna drop a hundred forty degrees—those stocks will be toilet paper!"
My hand jerked. What the hell?
Hudson glared at me. "What's your problem, Brynn? Keep this up and you're not getting the fifty million either!"
"Whatever, scumbag. Last life this asshole locked us outside to freeze so he could steal our crackers!"
"Mom, stop thinking! Take the money and RUN! We need coal! Mylar Blanket! Hand warmers!"
I looked down. Locked eyes with my Golden Retriever.
This was Toby. My dog.
To check if I was losing it, I thought: "Toby, is that you?"
"DUH! Obviously it's your dog son! Mom, if you want those stocks so bad, just let me bite this dirtbag's crotch for revenge!"
"Not like he's working with much anyway—three-pump chump. Won't be missing anything!"
Puff—I nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Hudson's bedroom problems—besides me, only Toby would know.
So this wasn't a hallucination. The universe just handed me a cheat code!!
Three days from now: ice age apocalypse.
Sounded insane. But I trusted Toby.
"Fine. I'll sign."
I scrawled my name and shoved the papers back:
"Fifty million. Transfer it now. Short me one cent and this divorce is off."
Hudson blinked, then sneered. "Smart choice."
Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. Fifty million deposited.
I scooped up Toby and walked out without looking back.
Hudson called after me: "Brynn, I hope you never bother me again."
I stopped. Turned. Smiled at him.
"Don't worry, Mr. Ashford. Even when you're frozen like a popsicle, I won't spare you a glance."
Outside, Toby's voice yanked me back to reality.
"Mom! Stop spacing out! East side coal yards. We need smokeless coal. They'll lock down sales soon!"
I drove straight there and pulled up my bank app the second I arrived.
"Boss, every ton of smokeless coal you've got—I'm taking it all."
The guy spit out his coffee. "Lady, you messing with me? I've got hundreds of tons back there!"
"Not messing around. But I need it delivered to Westwood Hills before dark."
He stared at those numbers on my screen, eyes bugging out.
"Yes ma'am! You're the boss!"
Coal secured. I checked my balance and realized something.
Fifty million seemed like a lot. But to live comfortably through the apocalypse? I needed more.
So I immediately ordered three maxed-out Alienware gaming rigs, the latest PS5, two 4K projectors.
Then hit the department stores and cleared out a hundred sets of La Mer and Helena Rubinstein.
Apocalypse or not, I was still gonna look flawless.
Toby rolled around with excitement:
"Mom! Swipe! Max out every card! I want the fanciest dog food!"
"Drain that black card, platinum card—all of them! Let's GO!"
Watching my balance climb, I felt weirdly calm.
Spending his money on my survival? Absolutely perfect.
Chapter 2
Next stop: the city's wholesale market.
I hired a few pickup trucks. Toby sat in the bed barking orders.
"Mom! Stock up on rice and flour—five hundred pounds each!"
"And sugar and eggs—buy every last one they've got!"
I started clearing shelves.
"Boss, all these—mine."
After basics, I rolled toward snacks and drinks.
Toby was drooling. "Mom, don't just buy meat! Freeze-dried strawberries! Yogurt bites! We'll get scurvy without fruit!"
"And those chips! Sour cream! Barbecue! How am I supposed to binge Netflix without chips?"
"You got it!"
I wiped out the snack aisle and the instant food section.
"Ramen, canned meats, peanut butter—every one. Clear your stock."
Store owners stared like I'd lost my mind. But their hands moved fast, scared I'd change it.
While directing workers loading cases of Coke and snacks, a voice cut through.
"Well, well. If it isn't poor Brynn, fresh off the street."
I turned around—there's Sienna with her posse of Botox buddies, dripping in designer bags and fake smiles.
She made a big show of flashing her ring.
"Wow. How the mighty have fallen. Blowing your little severance on junk food?"
Sienna wrinkled her nose dramatically. "Smells like broke in here. No wonder Hudson dumped you."
Before I could respond, Toby lost it.
"WOOF! That plastic-faced witch! Last life SHE was the one who said we should eat me when food ran out!"
"Mom! That rock won't get her half a donut at 7-Eleven when the time comes! Dumbass!"
I looked at Sienna coolly. "Instead of showing off that fake nose, maybe grab a couple parkas."
"Heard this winter's gonna be brutal. Don't want that fresh nose job freezing crooked."
Her face soured. Then she sneered.
"Brynn, you're just jealous."
"Have fun playing grab-ass with old ladies over expired meat. Hudson and I are taking the yacht out for a freedom party."
She whipped out her phone and snapped photos of my cart.
"Girls, look—Hudson's ex is wholesale shopping. Opening a bodega?"
She posted to socials and strutted off.
I watched her leave. Totally unfazed. Actually kinda amused.
Yacht party? When the freeze hit, the waterfront would turn into a skating rink first.
Ignoring the stares, I headed to cold-weather gear.
"Boss, every heavy-duty parka, insulated boot, arctic sleeping bag you've got—I'll take it."
After supplies, I drove back to my Westwood Hills place.
I'd bought this as my retirement spot—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking mountains. Very zen.
Now? Flaws everywhere.
"Mom! These windows are TRASH! Might as well be plastic wrap! One gust at negative a hundred and they're gone!"
"These walls are way too thin! We need insulation—the thickest mineral wool!"
"Fireplace! We NEED a fireplace! Generator dies, we burn furniture and coal!"
I called a crew immediately.
"Every door and window—reinforce them. Insulation on all walls, interior and exterior. Coal-burning fireplace in the living room."
The foreman frowned. "Ms. Hayes, that's way too much for three days."
"I'll pay extra." I held up five fingers. "Five times your rate. But done in three days."
His eyes lit up. "Deal!"
That night, my house blazed with lights. Power drills screaming.
Property manager showed up with security.
"Ms. Hayes! You're violating codes! Neighbors complained about noise! Stop work NOW!"
I stood on the balcony looking down at these future popsicles.
Didn't waste words. Pulled out thick stacks of cash and threw them in his face.
"That's for emotional distress. Now take your people and get lost."
Bills scattered.
His face cycled through colors. Eventually he bent down and grabbed the money.
"Ahem... Ms. Hayes, stay safe. Winter prep, I suppose... understandable."
Watching them leave, I scratched Toby's head.
Money really was magic.
Too bad it'd be worthless paper soon.
Chapter 3
Day three. Morning.
Crew cleared out.
My place was a fortress now.
Every window sealed except air vents.
Walls half a meter thicker.
Front door replaced with bank-vault steel.
Looking at it made me feel secure. But my balance made me sweat.
Fifty million down to barely two million.
Coal, supplies, generators, fuel, renovations...
"Mom! Not enough vitamins! Not enough cold medicine! We need antifreeze!"
"And weapons! What if people try robbing us?"
I gritted my teeth. Ran to my walk-in closet.
One whole wall of Hermès. Plus my jewelry collection.
I used to treat these like my babies. Polished them daily.
Screw it. Sell everything!
Grabbed duffel bags. Stuffed in croc leather purses and diamond necklaces.
Dragging several massive bags downtown to a luxury consignment shop.
Staff looked shocked.
"Ms... Ms. Hayes? These are all limited editions. You sure?"
"Positive. Everything. Toby only. Right now."
Manager saw I was desperate. Started lowballing.
"Ms. Hayes, dumping this much at once—market can't absorb it. We'd have to cut the price in half."
Normally I'd have launched a Birkin at his face.
But I checked my watch. Less than twelve hours till Toby's prediction.
"Fine. Half price. Transfer it."
Zero hesitation.
With the twenty million, I hit pharmacies and outdoor stores again.
Stopped at hardware for chainsaws and axes.
Driving home in my loaded pickup, phone buzzed.
Hudson posted on Instagram—employee photo of me at the consignment shop.
Caption:
"Some people can't even afford groceries after leaving the good life. Now pawning bags just to survive. Honestly sad."
Tons of likes and comments.
Sienna: "Oh babe, don't be mean. She's just surviving. But yeah... pretty embarrassing."
Ex mother-in-law: "Useless woman. Ten years, not even one grandkid. Still embarrassing us after divorce. Thank god you got rid of her."
But that wasn't even the worst.
Because my bulk-buying was so weird, someone posted me on TikTok.
Title: Ex-Socialite Now Hoarding Garbage—Shrinks Say It's PTSD
Went viral. Tens of millions of views.
Comments brutal—hundreds of thousands mocking me:
"LMAO this chick bought every hand warmer in the city. She hatching eggs?"
"Heard she traded billions for fifty mil and bought garbage with it. No wonder she got kicked out—IQ's nonexistent."
Looking at those comments, all I could do was laugh.
These idiots.
Back home, Toby saw the messages on my phone and started clawing the couch in rage.
"WOOF! Mom, ignore them! Tomorrow when they're pissing themselves from the cold, let's see if they're still laughing!"
"Mom, we need to do final checks! NOW!"
I shut off my phone. Locked every door and window.
Did one last sweep of the place.
The basement—used to be empty, now a top-tier climate-controlled vault.
One row of shelves stacked floor to ceiling with thousands of bottles of Evian and Coke.
Another row of shelves stocked with Lay's and Doritos—sorted by flavor, organized by color.
Supplies piled like Tetris blocks all the way to the ceiling.
Walking into the kitchen, the massive double-door industrial freezer—
Left side crammed with premium cuts of beef.
Right side stacked with frozen pizzas, lasagnas, mac and cheese, and pies.
Even my bedroom had one entire wall stacked with hand warmers and thick comforters. Just looking at it made me feel warm.
Long as I didn't leave, this place was the only Noah's Ark in the apocalypse.
I fired up the ventilation and climate control systems.
Filled the fireplace with smokeless coal. Flames licking the walls, radiating heat.
Outside, the weather report was still saying:
"Tomorrow sunny, temperatures 68 to 77 degrees, perfect for outdoor activities..."
Hudson's call came through right then.
I hesitated. But answered anyway.
Ocean waves and Sienna's laughter on the other end.
"Brynn, heard you pawned all your bags? If you're really that desperate, I could throw you some scraps."
"Just come over right now, get on your knees in front of Sienna, and apologize. Admit you were wrong."
I looked at the sunlight outside. Sneered internally.
"Hudson, here's my advice."
"Layer up. Better grab a few parkas."
Hudson paused. Then burst out laughing.
"Brynn, have you lost your mind? It's seventy degrees out! Parkas? Did a truck hit your head or something?"
Click.
I hung up.
Whatever. Can't save people who are determined to die.
