Part 2The Gold Digger's Revenge: A Billionaire's Regret

That day, I went home and cried, and we had a huge fight. Chris was completely baffled, but he did his best to explain. He didn't like Vivian that way, he insisted. The whole “childhood betrothal” thing was just a joke their parents had made once when they were drunk. No one took it seriously.

His explanation should have been enough.

But somehow, the knot of anxiety in my throat didn’t loosen. It only tightened.

I wanted to tell him to spend less time with her. I wanted to beg him, Just wait for me. I’ll be amazing one day, too. I’ll be someone you can be proud of.

But those secret, girlish pleas were lodged in my throat, too humiliating to speak aloud. To say any of it would be to admit my own inferiority.

So, I grew quiet instead.

Chris didn’t notice. He and Vivian had too many shared interests to explore.

But his mother did. Mrs. Johnston noticed.

She summoned me to the sunroom, her grace and elegance making it feel like a casual chat.

“Do you know why I never tried to stop Chris from dating you, dear?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk.

I said nothing.

“Because I knew it would never last. He’s a boy who needs to get things out of his system. Once he’s had his fun, the obsession fades.” She smiled faintly. “See? Look how well he and Vivian are getting along now.”

I stood there, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped down my back, making me shiver.

“Chris told me he doesn’t like her.”

Mrs. Johnston let out a soft, silent laugh and adjusted the cashmere shawl around her shoulders.

“Oh, you sweet, silly girl. If you step aside gracefully, you’ll give him an easy way out.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Thea,” she said, her tone shifting from condescending to cold. “This is a notification, not a negotiation.”

Mrs. Johnston was a woman of her word. A week later, she fired my mother.

My mom came to our small apartment in tears, her hands trembling as she signed, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

“They said I was stealing. They kept my last month’s pay.”

I fought back my own tears and apologized over and over, promising her I would find a way to get her money back.

But when I went to find Chris, he was in the middle of a video game with Vivian.

He spared me a fleeting glance before tossing his controller aside, his tone inexplicably sharp.

“Thea, why did you start dating me in the first place?”

I froze, then a cold dread washed over me. “Did your mother say something to you?” I asked, my voice rising. “Chris, don't listen to her, she’s—”

“Thea,” he cut me off, his voice laced with irritation. “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

I stood there, stunned into silence, staring at the anger on his face. He was looking at me like I was a stranger, and the coldness in his eyes made me tremble.

After what felt like an eternity, he turned his back on me, waving a dismissive hand.

“Just go home for now.”

I stood outside the door, watching as he sat back down, picked up his controller, and said something that made Vivian laugh so hard she leaned against his shoulder.

For the first time, I felt a horrifying certainty that everything Mrs. Johnston had said might be true.

A few days later, two things arrived at once: my mother’s missing wages and my acceptance letter for a study abroad program.

Seeing the joy on my mother’s face as she held the check, and the official email on my phone, I wavered. After a long hesitation, I sent Chris a text. I thanked him for the money and told him my acceptance had come through.

Studying abroad together had always been our plan.

He replied instantly with an address and two short words: “Come here.”

Chris was out with his friends, a boisterous crew of Northwood’s richest sons who excelled at one thing: giving people a hard time.

The moment I pushed the door open, the one closest to me, Carter, raised his glass.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!” he drawled. “Congratulations on your acceptance to Penn, your highness! Don’t forget about us little people when you make it big!”

I’d faced scenes like this more times than I could count since I’d started dating Chris. So, I ignored him and walked straight to Chris, who was sitting with his head bowed.

Before I could even sit down, Carter spoke again, a smirk in his voice.

“You know, Thea, you’re a classic example of marrying up. Let’s be real, without Chris, someone from your background would never even dream of studying abroad.”

The words had barely left his mouth before Chris launched himself across the table and punched Carter square in the face.

“What the hell did you just say?”

In the end, they were both sent to the hospital.

On the way there, Chris wiped a smear of blood from his lip, his head still down. “Did you get the money?” he asked.

I was dabbing at the blood on his knuckles and nodded.

He snatched his hand back, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh.

Then he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, his eyes boring into mine. He spoke each word with chilling precision.

“Thea, if I had no money, would you still want to be with me?”

A wave of exhaustion and despair washed over me. But I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his gaze, my voice earnest.

“Chris, believe it or not, I have always loved you for you.”

Years ago, my mother, who is deaf-mute, had been cheated out of her wages and thrown out of a domestic agency because they saw her as a liability. It was Chris, just a boy passing by, who had given me his number and told me to have my mom call his family, that they were looking for a housekeeper.

The image of that boy’s bright, open smile still visited me in my dreams. He was the first splash of color in my otherwise gray life. How could I not love him?

But I knew, in that moment, that Chris no longer believed me.

He was looking at me with suspicion. It was the look of a superior judging a subordinate, someone trying to curry favor.