Catfishing the Cold-Blooded Heir

My online boyfriend was a total poser, claiming to be New York oldmoney royalty. Not one to back down, I lied right back, swearing I was Columbia University’s reigning It Girl.

Plot twist? He actually spent months spoiling me rotten with cash and relentlessly spamming my inbox with pictures of his shredded abs. Until we bumped into each other at a club.

I tripped, practically ate dirt at his feet, and blurted out, "Hubby." He coldly kicked my dropped purse away. "I've seen a million girls like you.

Just touching you makes me sick." God help me. He wasn't faking it. He really was that coldblooded, ruthless billionaire heir.

And he had absolutely no clue that the online obsession he practically worshipped was standing right in front of him.

Chapter 1 Julian texted me right on cue. "Baby, pulling an allnighter for this thesis.

Be a good girl and get some sleep." I typed back, playing the perfect, obedient girlfriend role to a tee. "Okay, hubby. Going to sleep right now. Kisses.

Night night." My eyes stayed glued to the glowing screen. I completely missed the edge of the step. Air caught in my throat as my heel slipped.

I lost my balance and stumbled forward. Julian happened to be walking right past. He was close enough to catch me. He could have easily grabbed my waist. He didn't.

He literally took three steps back. He just stood there, watching me faceplant right into the spilled liquor. Just like that.

Julian, who was supposedly grinding over a thesis, and me, who was supposedly fast asleep in bed. We collided in the middle of the club.

I pushed myself up, my vision clearing—and slammed straight into a face that belonged on a billboard. We had been texting for months.

He had made damn sure my camera roll was flooded with his features. Postworkout mirror selfies. Yacht trips. Even those damp, towellowonthehips shower traps.

I recognized him instantly. Before my brain could hit the brakes, the word slipped out. "Hubby…" Julian froze. A muscle feathered in his jaw.

He looked at me coldly. "I've seen a million girls like you. Just touching you makes me sick. Don't try that pathetic act with me." He just stepped around my crumpled body.

His Oxford shoe carelessly kicked my spilled clutch out of his path. I stood there, completely stunned. Where was the sweet, obsessed guy from my DMs? This man was pure ice.

A hand hooked under my arm, yanking me up. Skylar let out an exasperated breath and pinched my arm hard. "Maeve, have you completely lost your mind?

You can't just throw yourself at him! That's Julian. He's literal NYC old money. He's notoriously ruthless. He goes to our university.

How do you not know this?" Of course I knew of Julian. But Columbia is massive. We ran in completely different circles. I had never seen him in the flesh.

When we matched and he dropped that name, I thought he was just roleplaying a billionaire trope. So, I fired right back and gave him my absolute worst enemy's name.

Because seriously, who uses their real name for an online relationship? Across the VIP booth, Julian dropped onto a leather sofa.

Grant leaned over, nudging his shoulder with a smirk. "Julian, the wifey still refusing to show her face? You’ve been blowing us off to practically live at the gym.

Swear to God, you’re gonna benchpress yourself into a coma. No meetup, no pictures. I'm just saying, major red flag. Something feels off. Yeah, man.

You're sending her abs, selfies, dropping serious cash on her left and right.

Are you sure you aren't getting catfished by some dude in a basement?" Julian knocked back his drink in one swallow and said evenly, "Her name is Gemma.

She's a sophomore at our school. Journalism major." Grant choked on his drink. "Gemma?

Columbia’s reigning MMA It Girl?" Julian's brows pulled together in a sharp V. "What MMA It Girl?" "Last semester.

Two girls threw actual hands in the auditorium over who was hotter. Gemma was one of them. A ton of people, like Celeste, roasted her online.

They officially crowned her our firstever fightclub queen." Julian didn't look pissed. Instead, a dark, amused chuckle vibrated in his chest.

His lips curled into a dangerously intrigued smirk. "Threw punches over a popularity contest?" Because in his mind… His online obsession was a sheltered, innocent little good girl with incredibly strict parents.

Chapter 2 Grant pulled up the Columbia Barstool page on his phone. He slid the screen toward Julian. "Yeah, it was a whole massive thing. They even posted the photos.

Not gonna lie, both of them are total smoke shows." Julian stared at the glowing screen for a long, heavy moment. His icy gaze flicked up.

His eyes cut straight through the neon haze of the VIP booth and locked onto me. A cruel, mocking smirk twisted his lips. "Her? You’re comparing her to Gemma? Average face.

Trash sense of style. Way too much makeup. And the worst part? She throws herself at any guy with a pulse. Absolute red flag." His first impression of me.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. On top of that, my literal fistfight with Gemma was out in the open. Julian's death glare was impossible to miss.

If he ever found out I catfished him using my worst enemy’s name… I would be dead. Literally dead. So. I had to strike first. I was dumping him!

I texted: "Hubby, I can't sleep." He texted back instantly. "What's wrong, baby?" "I wanna see those abs." The typing bubble popped up immediately.

It hovered there for about two minutes.

Finally, Julian's message pushed through. "Baby, I'll take a bunch for you tomorrow, okay?" "But I can't sleep tonight." I attached a pouting meme.

When he didn't reply, I pressed my attack. "Hubby, is it inconvenient right now? Didn't you say you were home writing your thesis? Wait. Is there someone else at your place? Fine.

I get it." I typed out: "Have a nice life." Before I could hit send, Julian's text came through. Two words. "It's fine." I let out an involuntary gasp.

He was literally surrounded by a mob of people right then. How exactly was he going to snap a thirst trap for me? I peeked around the edge of my booth, my eyes zeroing in on Julian.

His face showed no emotion as he calmly stood up. "Bathroom break," he muttered casually to the guys around him. Barely a minute later. My screen lit up with a photo.

He attached a caption: "Satisfied, baby?" I zoomed in on the picture. I zoomed in again. Flawless. Eightpack, perfectly cut vline.

I couldn't find a single flaw to pick a fight over. Just then, my TikTok algorithm fed me a viral, incredibly explicit Magic Mike dance challenge. Inspiration struck.

I slammed the share button and forwarded it to his DMs. "Hubby, I wanna see you do this." Ten minutes dragged by. Julian still hadn't emerged from the club's bathroom.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to text back. "Baby, I seriously don't know how to do that." So, I flipped the switch into fullblown toxic girlfriend mode. "You used to give me whatever I wanted.

So it really IS inconvenient, huh? Guess I was dumb to trust an online relationship. Three people in this relationship is just too crowded. Fine. I'm out." I hit block.

Deleted his number. Flawless execution. I felt a wave of guilt. I needed to sneak out and bolt straight to my apartment. But of course… It was pouring rain outside.

Jace the bartender immediately slid a sleek black umbrella across the counter toward me. My fingers brushed the handle—someone snatched it right over my shoulder. It was Julian.

His jaw was set in stone. Pure, freezing malice radiated from his tall frame. I immediately yanked my hand back, surrendering the umbrella to him. Even then.

He shot me a glare so venomous it could have stopped my heart. The pure, unfiltered resentment pouring off him was enough to fuel a supervillain's origin story!

Chapter 3 Rideshare apps were completely gridlocked in the pouring rain. A glowing cab finally cut through the downpour. I jogged out into the freezing rain and flagged it down.

My fingers didn't even graze the yellow paint. A muscular arm shot past my shoulder. Long fingers clamped over the door handle. Julian. Again.

I had already surrendered the umbrella to him. Now he was stealing my damn cab? Freezing rain plastered my clothes to my shivering skin.

My jaw clamped shut. "Dude, I already gave you the umbrella. I flagged this cab down first!" His knuckles didn't budge from the handle.

I wiped a stream of cold water from my eyelashes. "Can't you be a gentleman for five seconds?

I am literally freezing out here!" His massive height advantage meant his umbrella cast a perfect shadow over us. I stood right under its canopy. He tipped his head down.

A low, mocking scoff vibrated in his throat. That smirk. It was creepier than a grad student's thesis topic! He took one deliberate, unhurried step backward.

The icy downpour instantly slammed into my face again.

He let the silence stretch before his dark eyes locked onto mine. "Are you my girlfriend?" "No." "Are we legally obligated to each other?" "No." "Then I have absolutely zero obligation to play the gentleman for you." My throat seized.

I was beyond speechless. Like, nextlevel speechless. "Now move. You're blocking my door." I'd finally had enough.

I stood frozen on the flooded curb, watching him slide into the backseat of my cab. The absolute worst part?

Right before pulling the door shut, he deliberately gave his umbrella a sharp shake. Dirty rainwater splattered directly across my ruined outfit. Perfect. This meant war.

I slipped back into my painfully mundane routine. Mindless TikTok scrolling, thirsttrapping over random guys, and bingereading Wattpad tropes.

So when the group chat blew up about a class party at a highend lounge, I smashed the RSVP button without a second thought. I pushed through the heavy velvet doors of the lounge.

My breath caught. Julian stood right in the center of the VIP section. We didn't share a single class. He wasn't even in the same department. What the hell was he doing here?

My brain shortcircuited trying to process it. Skylar grabbed my wrist and dragged me into a dark corner. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her head. "Maeve, huge news.

Like, earthshattering news!" "Did your ex finally get hit by a bus?" "God, I wish. But no." "Did my ex get hit by a bus?" Skylar snorted. "No, idiot. It's the billionaire heir.

Julian." My peripheral vision locked onto Julian's broad shoulders. I forced my voice to stay deadpan. "What about him?" "Word on the street is his family owns this entire club.

He completely waived our booking fee and covered the entire open bar. Take a wild guess why." "I'm guessing… he has shit for brains." "Hahaha, no!

He’s going after Gemma!" My heart jumped into my throat. Billionaires could snap their fingers and have supermodels lining up.

Why was he so psychoobsessed with tracking down a random internet catfish? Fight or flight kicked in. Flight won. My heels pivoted toward the exit. I didn't even make it two steps.

Gemma walked through the entrance. Julian's dark gaze locked onto Gemma instantly. He immediately pushed off the bar, striding directly toward her.

I panicked, immediately turned around, and linked my arm tightly through Gemma's. "Gemma! Why are you so late? Crazy traffic?" I cooed, pressing myself against her shoulder.

Gemma flinched. Her manicured brows pinched together in pure disgust. "Maeve, are you off your meds?" "Gemma, what are you talking about? I haven't seen you all summer.

I missed you so much!" Not just Gemma. Every single person in our class stared at my desperate, clinging performance with their jaws practically unhinged.

Chapter 4 I practically shoved Gemma into the curved leather booth, wedging my body like a human shield completely between her and Julian.

Skylar drove a sharp elbow into my ribs. "Maeve, do you owe her money or something?" she whispered. "I've got an emergency Venmo stash.

Do I need to bail you out?" I shot Skylar a desperate look and shook my head, my throat clamped shut.

Mitchell decided to liven things up with a round of Never Have I Ever, tracking strikes on our hands. The first few rounds were painfully standard. Then it was Julian's turn.

He leaned back against the velvet cushions, his voice completely deadpan. "Never have I ever… been in an online relationship." His dark, predatory gaze immediately locked onto Gemma’s hands.

Just as Gemma started to lower a finger—taking the strike because she hadn't—I slapped my hand over hers. "What are you doing?

It's not like you've never dated online!" Gemma scowled. "Since when?" "You had a literal pen pal in middle school!" "But he said an online relationship, Maeve." "Same difference!

You never met the pen pal, you never meet internet boyfriends. The concept is identical!" Gemma paused, actually digesting my completely unhinged logic.

She let out a huff and kept her finger raised.

Then, Julian struck again. "Never have I ever… been dumped by my online girlfriend." Everyone at the table immediately perked up. "Someone dumped Julian?" "Who has a freaking death wish?!" My eyes—and Julian's—were laserfocused on Gemma.

But Gemma's finger stayed perfectly straight.

I started to panic again. "Since when have you ever been dumped by an online boyfriend?!" Gemma looked at me like I was completely insane. "Didn't you just say pen pals count?

Sophomore year, I sent him a letter and he totally ghosted me. That definitely counts as getting dumped." "How does that count as getting dumped?! He didn't explicitly reject you.

Put your finger down!" Gemma rolled her eyes and folded her finger. The suffocating knot in my chest finally loosened. The open bar did its job.

Almost everyone caught a buzz, Gemma included. Julian smoothly volunteered his Maybach to take her home.

I threw my dignity out the window and shamelessly thirdwheeled. "Gemma and I live in the same dorm building.

You can just drop me off on the way!" Before Julian could even form a rejection, I lunged forward and practically dove into the leather backseat.

Julian’s face was an absolute thundercloud. With me acting as a giant, radiating roadblock, the car's atmosphere was completely stripped of any romantic tension.

It was dead silent until Gemma hopped out.

Julian actually softened his voice, dropping a gentle, "See you around." The second Gemma's figure disappeared, the Maybach’s engine roared.

The car sped off toward the north side of the city. "Julian, you can just dump me at this next intersection," I offered, trying to sound casual. He completely ignored me.

The speedometer kept climbing until we reached the absolute desolate peak of North Hill.

The tires finally screeched to a halt. "Get out." His voice was icecold, the freezing command whipping through the dark cabin. I tapped my Apple Watch.

It was pitch black and past 11 PM. Rideshares wouldn't even ping out here. Stranded alone on a mountain in the dead of night was literal truecrime podcast material.

I forced a stiff, panicked smile. "Julian, abandoning a girl on a mountain at midnight… that's a little psychotic, don't you think?" He ripped his door open, marched around the hood, and yanked my door wide.

His hand clamped around my wrist. He dragged me out into the freezing night air. I struggled against his grip, trying to scramble back into the car.

He violently shoved the heavy car door shut. —Slam. It nearly crushed my hand. My lungs completely locked up.

He boxed me in, leaning his tall, imposing frame against the tinted glass.

I could physically feel the dangerous, suffocating heat radiating off his chest. "The girl I was dating online…" His voice was icecold. "It was you, wasn't it." Chapter 5