I Returned His Money. He Offered Me Ten Million.

After I sent back every dollar my boyfriend had transferred to me, he broke down in the private room and said he did not want to live anymore.

Only a minute earlier, I had stood outside the door and heard his friends laugh about what a gold digger I was. Sooner or later, they said, I would start demanding more.

He told them, “If she makes a scene, I’ll dump her.” To prove I was not the woman they thought I was, I refunded every transfer, one by one. The room erupted. “Holy shit!

She won’t take my money anymore. I don’t want to live!” Me: What? His friends: What??? Chapter 1 My best friend said there was something mystical about me.

Every boyfriend I dated willingly spent money on me.

Fresh from a breakup, Tessa Morgan screwed up her face and sobbed. “I took one bite of his ice cream, and he made me pay for half.

The restaurant charged a dollar for napkins, and when I used two more than he did, he still had the nerve to call me a gold digger. “You know the worst part?

He added the cost of the haircut he got before seeing me to my side of the bill. His bangs were down to his jaw.

He could have played the ghost from The Ring without changing a thing. And I never charged him for the makeup I put on before our dates. “An ex you can show off is an ex.

One you can’t is a criminal record!” I fumbled for a way to comfort her.

After a long struggle, I managed, “The next one will be better.” Tessa whimpered and burrowed against me. “Josie, when am I going to get lucky like you? “Let me rub against you and steal some of that luck.” Her perfume curled around me.

I was not used to people getting so close, and my cheeks burned as my thoughts drifted. My dating history was simple. I had only had two boyfriends. The first was a college romance.

He was the famous rich kid in our class. His family had money, and for reasons I never understood, he suddenly confessed his feelings to me.

Surrounded by a crowd, I looked up and met his blazing stare. After thinking it over, I decided the confession must be a punishment from some truthordare game.

I agreed because I did not want to embarrass him. I never expected him to mean it. The relationship hit me like a home invasion and lasted all the way to graduation.

His family wanted him to continue his studies abroad.

He began dropping constant hints that he did not want a longdistance relationship, while making a point of showing me how much money he had.

I assumed that was his gentle way of breaking up. That same day, I left him one message. [I wish you a brilliant future.] Then I blocked every way he had to contact me.

I thought that was the end of it. Then his mother came to see me. She offered me a check for $500,000 to leave her son. Mother and son were almost exactly alike.

When I refused his money, the younger one said I did not love him.

When I refused hers, the older one became convinced I wanted him back and raised the offer from $500,000 to $2,000,000.

With her staring at me like she was begging for mercy, I had no choice but to take the check. I became rich overnight.

After learning from that experience, I chose an ordinary office worker for my second boyfriend. My phone vibrated wildly.

I steadied my drunken best friend with one arm and unlocked it with the other. In the otherwise quiet messaging app, Cole Whitaker’s name was the only one stubbornly flashing 99+.

He really was clingy. The thought brought an unconscious smile to my face. At the top of the chat were four random handsign prompts I had sent him. Five, four, two, one.

Next came Cole’s checkin video, showing each matching hand gesture. Then came a transfer with an extra zero tacked onto it. When I did not accept it, he began to panic.

Chapter 2 [Why aren’t you accepting it? Did I do something wrong again?] [The alcohol on the table isn’t mine. Only men with no home to go to numb themselves with liquor.

I’m not some stray with nowhere to go.] [Can I come home early? Ten thirty is so far away. I only knew these people when we were kids. They aren’t really my friends.

Baby, I don’t need a social life.] His messages grew more bitter. [Did someone pin your hand down, Josie? Sorry.

I guess I should have known when I wasn’t wanted.] Cole’s way of venting was simple. He sent me money over and over. The handsign checkin videos had been his idea too.

He said his coworkers always filmed checkin videos for their partners when they went out to eat, then flaunted them in front of him.

He was the only one who looked like nobody cared whether he came home.

His eyes had filled with loneliness as he asked whether I only wanted to play with him and never intended to take responsibility. I had always been softhearted.

I finally agreed, though I only sent four random prompts at a time. When Cole kept whining for more, I gave him a tender look. “You work hard for your money. Keep some for yourself.

Don’t try to show off.” Cole’s expression stiffened. He mumbled that his boss was generous and handed out bonuses all the time. “Your boss sounds like a wonderful man,” I said.

Cole looked even worse. I was afraid he might really abandon his friends and come home, so I struggled to type with one hand. [My best friend just got dumped.

I was comforting her.] I remembered the last time I brought food to Cole’s office. His coworkers had avoided him. Their gazes had darted around with what looked like fear.

When Cole and I stepped into the employee elevator together, they poured back out in a swarm. “MMr. Whitaker, you go ahead.

Please.” As the doors closed, I even heard them gossiping about him. “God, Mr. Wh—he’s terrifying.

Next time I see him, I’m taking the long way around.” No wonder Cole rushed home every day. He was being viciously bullied at work.

I worried he would withdraw from the world entirely, so when I heard his friends had invited him to dinner, I supported the idea without reservation.

I even told him he could stay out late. After some hard bargaining from Cole, we finally compromised on ten thirty instead of midnight.

He replied at once. [You worked hard taking care of her, baby.

Go get something good to eat with your friend.] Then he sent five transfers of $131.40, each marked: [Gift—always yours. No repayment expected.] I did not accept them right away.

I was settling the bill at the bar. Tessa had hired ten male hosts and ordered several champagne towers. I checked the total and paid with my phone.

The face scan approved the payment before I noticed which card it had used. At that moment, Tessa coughed twice and said weakly, “I’m going to throw up.” My scalp prickled.

I had no time to look at the screen again. I only knew the payment had gone through on a family credit card in my mobile wallet. By the time I got Tessa settled, it was almost ten.

I took the fastest shower of my life and made sure I smelled like nothing but body wash. Only then did I relax.

I was about to enjoy some wellearned eye candy online when a text arrived. [Hey, Josie. Cole’s drunk. Can you come pick him up?] An address followed.

I was suspicious at first, but it matched the location Cole had sent me exactly. My doubts vanished. I changed clothes in a hurry and ordered hangover soup on the way.

The delivery arrived at the same time I did. I touched the container. It was still warm. Chapter 3 Cradling the little bowl, I searched carefully for the private room. A888.

This was it. The door stood slightly open. I was about to push it wider when I heard one of Cole’s friends speaking. “Cole, when are you planning to dump her?

It’s been almost a year. Don’t tell me you’re actually serious about this. “I saw all those $131.40 transfers you sent her.

Good luck getting that money back. “Damon’s about to come home, so you’d better move fast.

I know you dated his ex to get revenge for him, but if he finds out you’ve been playing with her, it could still damage the friendship.” Cole sounded impatient. “I have my own pace.

I don’t need you people telling me what to do.” Then his voice turned muffled. “Besides, she hasn’t taken my money.” His friends could not believe it. “You’re kidding.

Is she some kind of selective gold digger? Be honest with us.

How much have you sent that she refused?” Cole idly turned his phone in one hand as he counted. “Not even a hundred thousand. And when I send it, she doesn’t spend it.

I bought her a few bags and custom pieces worth several hundred thousand altogether. She thought the bags were knockoffs, so she was afraid to carry them.

The custom clothes had no visible labels, and she wore those to death.” By the end, his voice had softened. “My little country bumpkin.” It was as if someone had seized the entire room by the throat.

In the dead silence, one man finally managed, “Cole? And you think that doesn’t count as gold digging?” “You gave her all that stuff.

It’ll be hard to get it back when you split.” Cole’s voice turned contemptuous. “Could you be any cheaper? Are you broke?

Who gives a gift and then asks for it back over a little money like that?” The others thought he was joking and burst out laughing. “You don’t understand.

Cole hasn’t finished playing generous boyfriend yet. But be careful, man. She’s already taking this much without knowing who you really are.

Once she finds out, she’ll demand even more.” Cole looked down at his phone and said flatly, “If she makes a scene, I’ll dump her.” “Breaking up will be the least of your problems.

She could be playing the long game. Don’t come crying to us when she clings to you and demands the Whitaker family name.” Laughter filled the private room.

Outside, I clenched my hand. My eyes stung. I did not want to break up. Even if Cole had been pretending, I had truly been happy with him. I opened our chat.

From the beginning to the end, I refunded every transfer, one by one. [Don’t send me any more money.

I only wanted a real relationship with you.] When I finished, I let out a breath. I was about to leave without making a sound when Cole’s broken sob came from inside. “Holy shit!

She won’t take my money anymore. I don’t want to live!” What? Was Cole only talking tough? I stopped, and a small spark of hope rose inside me.

The next voice crushed it at once. “Damn, she really thinks she has you now. She’s pulling back so she can make a bigger move later. Becoming Mrs.

Whitaker is worth much more than a few transfers!” Of course. Rich people were all like this. When I refused their money, they only assumed I wanted more.

I lowered my head, dejected, and tightened my grip on my phone. I did not even notice my finger slip and like one of Damon Carlisle’s ab photos.

His message appeared almost immediately. [?] I sighed. [I just got dumped.] Damon replied with a voice message.

He sounded a little breathless, probably because he had just finished working out. [You get dumped and message your ex?

Josie Lowell, are you asking for trouble?] Chapter 4 Why was he being so mean? Besides, had he not told me to let him know if I ever got dumped? I sniffed. [Sorry.

Nobody ever taught me that exes can’t be friends.] [Maybe I should block you again.] Damon answered almost instantly. [Try it.] I answered his call. “Where are you?” Something rustled on Damon’s end.

I gave him the name of the club in a listless voice. He let out a cold laugh. “So your boyfriend came to a place like that behind your back?

He’s obviously a faithless piece of trash. You left me for that? Josie Lowell, your taste is awful.” Being dumped was bad enough.

Getting scolded from both sides brought my temper to life. “Don’t come. I don’t want you here.” “You tell me to come, so I come. Then you tell me not to, so I stay away?

Why should I listen to you? You’re not my girlfriend. You don’t get to boss me around.” A sports car roared to life over the phone.

Damon’s tone left no room for argument. “Stop talking. Stay where you are.” I had always been an obedient person with very little will of my own.

Blocking Damon when we broke up had taken every ounce of initiative I possessed. After he went abroad, he used a few tricks to get himself back into my contacts.

From then on, he began checking in every day. At parties, he sent me pictures. Everyone else crowded together, laughing, while an empty circle surrounded him.

He looked pitiful. [Josie Lowell, this is all your fault. Everyone knows I’m a man you used up and threw away. I spent four years with you. Who will want me now?

You ruined my entire life.] Sometimes it was the middle of the night where he lived. He would be in the bathroom, taking a photo from below.

One of my old nightgowns would be in his hand. I assumed he used it to wipe his feet out of spite. Our breakup had been rushed.

Damon sent me money and told me not to come collect my things. He said the sight of them disgusted him and that he had thrown everything away.

Apparently, he had taken them overseas instead. The first time one of those suggestive photos arrived, I was explaining a task to our department’s new intern.

I tried to close it and tapped the wrong spot. The image enlarged right in front of him.

Eli Vaughn studied it thoughtfully. “So that’s what you like, Miss Josie.” I later explained that the photo had been sent by mistake. Eli only gave me an unreadable smile.

He never said whether he believed me. Whenever he came to ask a question, though, one slight turn of my head gave me a clear view down the loose collar of his shirt.

Day after day, Damon told me I owed him. When someone said something often enough, an honest person like me eventually believed it.

Now he had given me an order, and I meekly accepted it. Damon arrived quickly. I had planned to sit in the back. Then I saw that he had brought a twoseat sports car.

I had no choice but to curl up miserably in the passenger seat. It had been a long time since we last faced each other in person.

When Damon returned, he had asked me to meet him at the airport.

After wrestling with the idea for a long time, I decided it would be wrong. “I already have a boyfriend,” I had said timidly. “Can I check with him first?” Damon had laughed in disbelief.

He never mentioned it again. His shirtless posts only became more frequent. I had assumed he would have changed after so much time apart.

Instead, he looked exactly as he had in college. A sweatshirt. Slightly wavy hair falling across his forehead. When he saw my thin dress, his brows drew together. “What is this?

You get dumped and decide to freeze yourself to death? Have you been watching too many melodramas?

All these years and you still haven’t learned a thing.” I pursed my lips and did not dare argue.

Chapter 5 One major reason I had worked up the courage to break up with Damon was his vicious mouth. Maybe I had never been loved properly. I liked being coaxed with care.

Ideally, a man would call me baby all day long. Damon only used the word at certain moments, and always with a teasing edge. “Lift a little higher, baby.

You can do it.” When he saw me sulking in my timid, barelyangry way, Damon clicked his tongue. “Look at you. Now you’re feeling wronged?” He reached over and caught my hand.

Startled, I tried to pull away. “Let go. Friends… friends don’t do this.” Damon sensed something was wrong. “You just got dumped.

Who are you trying to keep your distance for?” When I guiltily said nothing, his eyes narrowed. “Or did you not finish breaking up with him?” My answer was quieter than a mosquito. “We didn’t break up.” I had very few friends.

Tessa was drunk and freshly heartbroken. I could not bring myself to bother her again. After thinking through everyone I knew, Damon was the only person who came to mind.

When we broke up, he said he would never get back together with someone who had dumped him. He only added me again because he did not want to lose a friend.

He said it, so I believed him. I had hesitated forever before contacting him. Then I accidentally opened his social profile and handed him leverage I could never take back.

Damon laughed angrily and tightened his grip on my hand. “Then what does that make me? Your dirty little secret on the side?” The term was too serious for an honest person like me.

I jerked my head up, almost wanting to cover his mouth. “A friend. You’re my friend. “Don’t say that.

If your mother finds out, she’ll make me give the money back.” Damon’s expression darkened as he watched me glance nervously around.

He grabbed my hand and shoved it under his sweatshirt. My cold fingertips touched warm, solid muscle. The chill dragged a hiss from him.

Before I could struggle, he attacked first. “You won’t even warm your hands on a friend?” When I still hesitated, he sneered. “Or are you flattering yourself again?

Do you think I’m trying to suggest something? “Please. I only did this because cold hands on me while I’m driving would be distracting. It’s more convenient this way.

Spend enough time with a rotten man and you start thinking like one. Dating that loser ruined your brain.” He twisted the logic until I lost the thread.

In the end, I decided people abroad might simply be more casual about personal space. Damon was a good person too.

Feeling guilty, I was about to apologize when a familiar voice came from behind us. “Damon?” My spine locked. I buried my face against Damon’s chest.

My sudden movement startled him. Then his eyes darkened as he studied the group outside the car. They had finally reunited after so long, only to be met with that heavy stare.

Nobody seemed to know what to do. Damon spoke first, as though making idle conversation. “Why are you wrapping up so early?

That doesn’t sound like any of you.” “Well, Cole has to go home to his wife.” Damon lifted a brow and looked toward Cole, who was staring at his phone with a deep frown. “Oh?

When did Cole get a girlfriend?

Why didn’t he tell me?” One man answered too quickly. “If you knew, it would all be over.” He realized his mistake and shut his mouth, but Damon had already caught it. “What?

Is she someone I know?” A smile entered his voice, but the arm around me tightened. It hurt. I did not dare make a sound. I only gave the side of his waist a careful poke.

Chapter 6 The unexpected poke caught Damon completely off guard. A muffled groan escaped him. The sound drew everyone’s attention. The atmosphere relaxed at once.

Someone gave an appreciative whistle. “Damon, are we interrupting something?” Damon lounged against the seat and made no effort to deny it. He only stroked my soft hair. “She’s shy.

Now she’s throwing a little tantrum.” It was a dismissal. The group exchanged glances and wisely began saying goodbye. Everyone except Cole.

His burning stare bored into the tiny mole at the back of my neck. Then he said, with an unreadable edge: “You