Part 1Flowers for a Liar

It had been three years since I started running a flower shop to support him, and he’d gone bankrupt again.

The first time, I’d sold the house my grandmother left me, paying off seven hundred thousand.

The second time, I’d dug out the savings account my mother had set aside as a nest egg for my future, settling a debt of one point six million.

Now, with his third bankruptcy looming, I stared at his vacant, dry eyes, my fingers hovering over the number of my estranged, billionaire father. I hesitated, wondering if I should call.

But that very evening, I stumbled upon a chat group on his tablet:

“Mr. Davies, how much should we put down for the bankruptcy settlement this time?”

“Make it ten million. Otherwise, the little flower seller will just pay it off in one go. Where’s the fun in that?”

“You really know how to play, Mr. Davies. I hear the little flower seller nurtures flowers by day and nurtures you by night. Never gets old, does it?”

I set the tablet down, picked up my phone, and dialed my billionaire father.

“All you want is for me to inherit the family business and marry your protégé, right? Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Send someone to pick me up in three days.”

* * *

Hanging up with my father, Louis Davies walked back in, a signed IOU in his hand.

“Cathy, I’m so sorry. I owe another ten million this time. I’m useless.”

His acting was flawless; the lost look in his eyes used to always elicit the same response from me:

“It’s okay, we’ll work through this together. We’ll pay it off eventually.”

But now, I just stared silently at the half-exposed watch on his wrist.

It looked unassuming, but I’d seen it in a magazine. It was worth one hundred and sixty million.

Louis Davies, with a watch worth one hundred and sixty million, couldn’t pay off a ten-million-dollar debt.

And I, with nothing to my name, was considering taking out a loan for him.

My sincerity had become the very fuel for his casual manipulation.

Noticing my gaze on his watch, Louis, without a flicker of expression, pulled me into a hug.

“It’s just a fake, Cathy. When I’m rich, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

Knowing I was poor and didn’t recognize luxury brands, he didn’t even need to put much thought into his lies.

I averted my eyes, only to see another message pop up on the tablet beside me.

“Mr. Davies, what’s the little lady going to sell to pay off the debt this time? Flowers? Her house? Or… herself?”

“The women Mr. Davies has played with must be quite something. If she’s selling herself, I’ll take her for a night!”

The subsequent messages were a barrage of vulgarity and “+1s.”

I’d been with Louis for three years, and I’d paid off his bankruptcy debts twice.

The first time, I sold my grandmother’s house.

Louis held me, promising to build a home with me.

Yet, we lived in a cramped, four-hundred-dollar-a-month basement apartment for two years before he returned with another two-million-dollar IOU.

I still didn’t blame him. Instead, I used the nest egg my mother had saved for me, patching up his financial hole.

He knelt before me, saying that by accepting my pre-wedding gift, he was my husband, and he would love and cherish me forever.

But his promises were lies, from beginning to end.

Louis’s attention was also drawn by the incessant pings from his phone.

He glanced at me, and seeing that I wasn't watching him, he confidently opened his phone to scroll through the group chat.

Soon, his brows furrowed, and his lips thinned into a line.

He tapped a few times on the screen, and his message appeared on the tablet:

“All of you, get lost! Just wait and watch the show!”

Louis put his phone down. After a long silence, he wrapped his arms around me again, his voice thick with affection.

“Cathy, I promise this is the last time. Once this debt is paid, I’ll marry you, okay?”

I looked at the earnest expression on his face and suddenly found it incredibly laughable.

How precious must I be, to have a wealthy young master go to such lengths to deceive me?

Even going as far as to utter words like "marry you."

If at first, I’d wanted to lay everything bare and ask him if he found any of this amusing,

Now, I didn’t even have the energy to question him.

I calmly pushed him away.

“But Louis, I’m out of money.”

Louis froze, perhaps not expecting such a reaction from me.

After all, in his mind, I should be desperate to find any means to pay off his debts.

But quickly, his face twisted into anger.

“Cathy, are you just like the others? Do you think I’m a failure? That I’ll never succeed?”

“I knew it, I misjudged you!”

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I watched his retreating back, understanding that he was using this tactic to pressure me into submission.

But I didn’t call out to him. Instead, I pulled out my phone and blocked all his contacts.

Then I picked up the IOU. No borrower, no debtor’s fingerprint.

It was an obvious fake, yet I’d foolishly fallen for it twice.

I gave a self-deprecating laugh and dialed the agent.

“Hello, please help me sublease the flower shop on Central Street!”

The flower shop was opened to support Louis.

Now that I was done with him, there was no need to keep it running.

Anyway, I was leaving.