The Billionaire's Deadly Birthday Gift

Before my billionaire boyfriend Brooks left the country to chase after his precious first love, Juliette, he wired a massive sum of money into my account.

Attached was a simple note: [Live well.] I got the message loud and clear. No drama. No clinging. I took the cash and vanished from his world.

Half a month later, he kicked the door of my VIP booth wide open.

His face was dark as thunder as he dragged me right off the lap of an eightpack male stripper. "Well, aren't you living it up." I gave a dry laugh. "All thanks to that generous breakup fee you gave me." His jaw clamped shut.

A muscle feathered at his temple before he kicked a nearby stool. "Breakup fee my ass!

That was your fucking birthday present!" Chapter 1 It wasn't my alarm clock that woke me up this morning.

It wasn't ambition, and it certainly wasn't a good morning kiss from my boyfriend. It was a bank notification pinging on my phone. Blinking through the sleep, I counted the zeroes.

One, two, three… My eyes snapped wide open. I tapped on the transaction details, my fingers trembling. The transfer note read: [Live a good life.] My mind flatlined. I reached out.

The other side of the bed was ice cold. I scanned the room—not a single trace of Brooks remained. Every last one of his things was gone.

Based on my years of bingewatching trashy soap operas and reading cheap romance novels, I could deduce only one thing. I, in all likelihood, had just been dumped.

It wasn't a total shock. From the day I started dating Brooks, I knew this moment was coming. He was a filthy rich heir. A notorious playboy. He never stayed with one girl for long.

And he was famous for being exceptionally generous to his exes, always handing out hefty severance packages. Now I was experiencing it firsthand.

It was my cue to take the hint and quietly exit stage left… Yet, my thumb betrayed me, opening his pinned chat on my phone. A bitter knot tightened in my chest.

I couldn't swallow the fact that all that affection had just evaporated overnight. Was last night's warmth all a lie?

He had pulled me close, his voice a low rumble against my ear as he promised, "I'll be there for every major milestone in your life." Was that a lie too?

While I stared blankly at the screen, a new text popped up. [Did you get it?] Before I could even type a letter, another followed. [Sorry, I can't make it.] [Pick a place you like, and take your time setting it up in whatever style you want.] Minutes dragged by.

Then, an incoming call from Brooks lit up my screen. I answered. His voice drifted through the speaker, lazy and entirely unbothered. "What's taking so long?

Drafting a whole damn essay?" "Save it. It's not that deep." An intercom announcement echoed in the background of his call. I stiffened. "Where are you?" "Hmm?

The airport." My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white.

A sudden realization hit me, drying out my throat like sandpaper. "Flying to France?" A low chuckle sounded from his end. "Smart girl." The knot in my chest pulled so tight it snapped.

I'd always heard the rumors. Brooks had Juliette—the one that got away. She lived in France, and the second she snapped her fingers, he would drop everything to run to her side.

And I was the 'everything' he just dropped. Right before hanging up, he actually had the nerve to remind me not to be late for my first day of work. How rich.

He dumps me and still plays the supportive boyfriend pushing me to climb the corporate ladder. I looked down and counted the zeroes in my banking app one more time.

A long exhale pushed past my lips. I texted my best friend, who was currently losing her mind studying for the bar exam.

Once she confirmed he legally couldn't ask for the money back, I kicked into gear.

I sent in my resignation email, blocked Brooks on everything, changed my number, and broke my lease. I executed every step with the cold efficiency of a machine.

I knew exactly how to play this game. The perfect exgirlfriend was supposed to vanish off the face of the earth. No forwarding address. No lingering texts. Zero clinging.

Because Brooks despised clingy women. If I played the stagefive clinger, he'd cut me out with zero hesitation anyway. So, no matter how much it stung, I kept my mouth shut.

I refused to throw a tantrum and ruin whatever shred of a good impression I had left in his mind.

The only thing left to do was grit my teeth, buy a fullpriced latte at Starbucks, scrape the bottom of my discount makeup palettes, and order takeout without a single free delivery promo code… Chapter 2 Damn it, how is this money lasting so long!

I was spending it every day, but I couldn't even outpace the daily interest. I went from broke to loaded overnight, and I literally had no idea how to blow it fast enough.

I scrolled through threads about what regular people do when they strike it rich.

Buying sports cars, throwing massive parties, even snagging a mansion in Beverly Hills… It was all just unrealistic fantasy. Nothing that felt like practical, grounded splurging.

God, how could humans be so greedy? Why couldn't I just take the win and enjoy my life? … Two minutes later, I was googling 'lowrisk, highreturn investments'.

I scrolled through a dozen articles, my brain turning to mush from all the financial jargon, and tossed my phone onto the bed. Forget it.

You can't make money off things you don't understand. Plus, almost every article listed 'buying real estate' as the number one priority, which left a bitter taste in my mouth.

It reminded me of the day I nailed down my first real job. I had happily dragged Brooks out to dinner. "I'm one step closer to my goal," I had grinned.

In my incredibly screwedup childhood home, I didn't even have a bedroom with a lock.

My alcoholic stepdad and trashy stepbrothers would barge into my space whenever they felt like it. Zero privacy.

From that point on, I made a vow to myself: I was going to buy a highend Manhattan penthouse with massive floortoceiling windows and a biometric lock.

Brooks had listened, stayed quiet for a long moment, and nodded. "You'll get it." Then he asked what my next goal was.

Like an absolute idiot, I blurted out, "To live in that apartment with Brooks and adopt a bunch of dogs and cats." He had just smiled.

Looking back, he was probably already planning our breakup. He was just mocking me in his head. I dug my nails into the sheets and rolled over, a heavy lump forming in my throat.

The aftershock of getting dumped was hitting me way harder than I expected.

I was just debating if I should book a flight somewhere to clear my head when my best friend called. "Oh my god, sugar mama, please adopt me," she wailed into the speaker. "I don't want to work anymore!" I decided to wait until she finished her bar exam so we could go crazy together.

I spent my days dragging her out of bed to study, gossiping in our downtime, and cooking her highprotein meals to keep her brain functioning. "I don't think I miss him as much anymore," I mumbled to her late one night.

She was halfasleep. "Human nature." Less than a minute later, I buried my face in the pillow, my voice cracking. "I still miss him.

Having money is great, but I want the money and him.

Am I just being too greedy?" Her voice was practically dead to the world. "Understandable." "What if I unblock him and beg him to take me back?

Would that work?" My best friend went silent for a few seconds before letting out a massive sigh. "Can you grow a spine?

You have time and a fat bank account. "You can find any kind of entertainment you want.

Stop obsessing over an exsugar daddy who never takes back his leftovers." "Fine," I grumbled, pulling the blanket over my head. "I'll reinstall my games tomorrow and flirt with ten different guys at once." She didn't respond.

A second later, she rolled over, clamped her hand onto my cheek, and pinched hard. "Wake up.

You're only going to find squeakers and basementdwelling losers on those games… Forget it. Once I pass this stupid exam, I'm taking you out to see the real world!" The real world.

What real world? Was she talking about male strippers, escorts, and gigolos? Because I'd already seen that.

Chapter 3 During my first year with Brooks, I went to a birthday party his friends threw for him.

At that private penthouse party, every corner was packed with halfnaked men and women. None of those guys had Brooks's face or his build.

If they had any redeeming quality, it was their smooth talking, calling me "hot stuff" until my head spun.

Too bad I only enjoyed a few minutes of it before Brooks—his jaw ticked tight, eyes dark—dragged me right out of there and straight home.

I had to listen to his sarcastic bite all night, pinned beneath the crushing heat of his absolute obsession. Why is it that the hottest fire always turns to ice first? Cruel.

I couldn't sleep, so I finally redownloaded the game. It was a good distraction. Under the covers, the harsh screen light burned my eyes.

I squinted through the loading screen, closed out a dozen flashy 'welcome back' popups, and tapped my friends list. A new message immediately caught my eye.

S: [Message me when you see this.] The timestamp was six days ago.

The message right above it was from four years ago, when I told him I was quitting to focus on real life and he wished me luck. This guy… Ah, right.

To save up for college tuition the summer after high school graduation, I did some game boosting on Discord. S was a hardcore gamer I randomly matched with.

He added me, invited me to his squad, and once he found out I was boosting for cash, he threw down enough money to buy out all my gaming time.

Later, I got a real parttime job and quit boosting, but we still played duos whenever I occasionally logged on. [Sorry, just saw this.

What's up?] I couldn't fathom why he would reach out after four years. Was he still hung up on my gaming skills? Or… after all this time, did he want a refund?

I clearly made him swear he was an adult and that all sales were final! The next day, I cracked my eyes open and immediately checked the chat. No reply.

Maybe he messaged the wrong person. I was just about to close the app when his grayedout avatar suddenly lit up.

A second later, a new message popped up. [Where did you vanish to without a word?] I blinked, slightly thrown off.

Was he asking what I'd been up to these past few years? [Studying, dating, finding a job, and getting single again.] [Single???] He seemed shocked. Heat flushed my cheeks.

I had bragged about focusing on real life, dated Brooks exclusively for three years, and then got brutally dumped out of nowhere. …So humiliating.

But I typed back honestly anyway: [Pretty normal. You get bored, you break up.] His replies shot back instantly. [Bored??? Who got bored?

How does that even happen?] Thinking about how hopelessly naive I was just a week ago, picturing a whole future with Brooks, I let out a heavy sigh. I typed: [Nothing lasts forever.

I was just too stupid.] The word 'stupid' got censored into asterisks. I retyped: [I was just an idiot.] 'Idiot' turned into asterisks too. I tried again, typing 'a clown'.

I stared at those letters, my vision suddenly blurring as a heavy ache clamped down on my chest. I erased it all and just hit send on: [Me.

I got bored.] Seeing the string of question marks he shot back made the knot in my throat tighter. [What's so weird about that?

Who wants to waste their whole life on just one anyway.] I chewed on my lower lip, my fingers tapping aggressively against the screen. [There are plenty of young, fresh out there.] He didn't reply for a long time.

I buried my head under the pillows and fell back asleep. When I woke up, I finally saw his response: a simple smiley face emoji, followed by four words. [Wow.

Good for you.] Chapter 4 I didn't know what was so 'good for me' about it. But at least keeping my best friend company while she studied wasn't so mindnumbingly boring anymore.

It felt like three years ago when we used to play duos. Back then, I'd leave my mic on and ramble about whatever came to mind, while he responded with silent text in the chat.

Now, afraid of disturbing my roommate's bar prep, I was the one with the muted mic. S had his mic open but hadn't said a word.

We played in complete silence until the third match, when his voice suddenly dropped through my headset. "Come grab the blue buff." I froze dead in my tracks in the middle of the river.

I didn't even snap out of it until an enemy assassin leaped out of nowhere and oneshot me. [Ah… sorry.] A beat of silence. Then a low, soft scoff. "Sorry for what?" Familiar.

It sounded so damn familiar, though his voice was a fraction deeper. [Your voice sounds a lot like my exboyfriend's.] A sudden sarcastic edge crept into his tone over the line. "Oh.

Should I mute my mic then? Thought you were bored of him." [No, keep talking.] Right after I hit send, a memory hit me.

But my typing speed couldn't beat the respawn timer, so I just deleted the rest of what I was going to say. So his mutism was finally cured.

Years ago, S was in an accident that left his best friend permanently disabled. The trauma had mentally locked him up, rendering him unable to speak for a long time.

Now that he was communicating normally, he must have finally moved past it. Thinking about it, it was better not to rip open an old wound.

Halfway through the match, my roommate, who was having a total meltdown over her studying, ran over and hugged me, wailing. "I don't want to take this stupid test!

Screw the bar exam, I'm going to a bar right now to find a rich old man to marry!" I distracted myself to pat her shoulder a couple of times, but she pinched my cheeks and demanded, "What's more important, your game or me?

Some random gamer boy or me?" I rolled my eyes.

We were losing the match anyway, so I just hit the forfeit button. "Surrendering already?" his voice came through the headset. [Yeah, logging off.] "In a rush?

Something came up?" [I have a stagefive clinger to pacify.] "Hah. A new fling?" Why was he being so aggressive?

I frowned and quickly typed back: [I'll get back on later.] He wouldn't let it go, his voice chasing me. "Later when? You aren't lying to me, are you?" "Keep your word.

I'll be waiting…" I yanked my headset off. Sweet silence. But a weird sensation prickled in my chest. Even that demanding tone sounded just like him.

After stuffing our faces with food, my roommate and I went for a walk to digest.

Passing by an inconspicuous storefront, she suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Let's come here next week." "Sure, but what is this place?" "Here, you don't have to bend over backwards to please anyone.

As long as the number in your bank account is long enough, they'll treat you like a real queen." She pointed at the building. "It's that exclusive, strictmembersonly toptier VIP private club downtown.

The men inside are practically walking testosterone." …I got the picture. She was still obsessed with showing me 'the real world.' Honestly, I didn't need it.

I was still having Brooks withdrawals. I had zero interest in other men right now. "How about you just focus on your exam first?

We can go out and party after you pass." "But," she whined, shaking my arm, "next week is your birthday." It had slipped my mind. I had spent my last two birthdays with Brooks.

Hearing the word 'birthday' now, right after our breakup, just left a hollow cavity in my chest