The Villainess Quits, The Billionaire Submits

I enforce one rule for my men: stay pure. Stay innocent. His chest bulged too wide. It disgusted me.

I shoved a tiny compression shirt at my boy toy. "Cover that up." I forced the fabric into his hands. Glowing text flooded my vision. [This toxic villainess acts so extra.

Humiliating the male lead? Just wait for his revenge.] [LMAO.] [She knows nothing. He reigns as the missing heir to New York's biggest oldmoney empire.

The second he reclaims his billionaire status, he bankrupts her first.] [Destiny guarantees he falls for the true female lead at first sight.

Only she claims the exclusive right to bury her face in those massive pecs!] My hand cocked back. I readied to slap Vance. Instead, my arm froze midair. I dropped my hand.

My palm landed against his jawline. No stinging slap today. "Forget it." I traced his cheek. "Skip the shirt if you hate it." Chapter 1 Confusion flickered in his dark eyes.

It made sense—just a second ago, I was losing my mind. I had measured his chest, and the tape hit a ridiculous fortythree inches.

I had sneered, demanding to know exactly who he was trying to thirsttrap at the gym with those massive pecs. Which random bitch was he trying to be a bigtitted himbo for?

Then, I had shoved that ridiculously tight compression shirt at him, forcing him into it. But his chest was just too broad. The XL fabric literally tore at the seams.

Bringing me back to the present, Vance coldly swatted my hand away from his face. He bent down, gripping the shredded fabric from the floor.

He let out a bitter, selfdeprecating laugh. "You don't have to play games. I get it. I'll custom order an XXL later.

That should fit." Panic choked me. "Guys don't wear corsets," I blurted out. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have forced you." He froze.

Then, with a sudden, violent motion, he gripped the hem of his halfworn black turtleneck and ripped it over his head.

The harsh overhead light carved shadows into his ridged abdomen and the heavy cut of his chest. My mouth went bone dry.

But the glowing text from the comments flashed in my mind, and I forcefully tore my gaze away. Vance grabbed a baggy grey hoodie, throwing it on to bury that perfect physique.

He stared down at me, his eyes dead. "You said that sweater was slutty. You said I was asking for it," he said, his voice clipped. "So I took it off.

Are you happy now?" Despair knotted in my stomach. I had said that—I'd told him tight black knitwear was the sluttiest thing a man could wear. But that was before!

Why was he twisting my words now? I forced what I hoped was a harmless, gentle smile. "You can wear whatever you want.

I'm not going to control you anymore." His expression instantly dropped into a deep scowl.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "Vivienne, how many fucking times do I have to explain myself?" he gritted out, pure fury lacing his tone. "I'm not using my body to get attention!

Surviving your jealousy and paranoia is already bleeding me dry. When the hell would I have the energy for anyone else?" He swayed on his feet.

The anger shattered, leaving behind a raw, devastated vulnerability.

His Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow. "Besides," he choked out, his voice hoarse. "You've already completely ruined me. You used me up.

Who else is going to want damaged goods like me?" A heavy weight pressed down on my chest. I was toxic. Spoiled rotten since childhood, I demanded the best of everything.

Naturally, that included men. They had to be pure. Exclusively mine. Dropdead gorgeous and built like a god. I first spotted Vance during freshman orientation.

He was standing at the podium, his face stoic and cold. Tall, broadshouldered, radiating an untouchable arrogance. The perfect toy.

His crippling poverty was just the leverage I needed. Once he became my kept man, I made his life a living hell.

I barked orders at him and tore him down at the slightest inconvenience. If I caught him breathing the same air as another girl, the punishments were brutal. Slaps. Belts.

Collars and chains. But the joke was on me. He was actually the missing heir to a New York oldmoney dynasty. And he had a destined female lead waiting in the wings.

I was just the disposable villainess. Chapter 2 A chill racked my spine at the thought of complete financial ruin. Let's be real—I knew the difference between men and money.

Stripping me of my Birkins, the Porsche, the sprawling penthouse? That was like ripping a fish out of water and watching it suffocate. I made a silent vow right then and there.

The spoiled, toxic princess act had to die. I needed to soften up. Treat Vance better. If I flipped the script, maybe I could rewrite my ending.

I stayed up until dawn, scouring the internet before finally settling on a sleek, designer men's necklace.

But of course, some idiot had to ruin my morning. "Time to get up." Annoyance flared in my chest.

Eyes still glued shut, I grabbed my silk pillow and hurled it at the voice. "Get out," I snarled. "What is all the noise about this early in the morning?" Silence stretched.

Then, a low, magnetic voice rasped, "Just reminding you. You have an eight AM lecture." My blood ran cold. I snapped my eyes open.

Behind Vance's broad shoulders, glowing text scrolled relentlessly: [This villainess is a nightmare.

He just woke her up, and she’s throwing a fit?] [She threw a pillow right at his face. Male Lead’s villain meter +1.] [Joke’s on her. Let her skip her 8 AMs.

When she goes bankrupt, she won't even be able to land a minimumwage job.] I scrambled out of the tangled sheets, lunging across the rug to snatch the pillow from his feet. "Got it, got it.

I'm going to class today," I babbled, my heart hammering. "I didn't mean to hit you. Are you hurt?" Vance's face twisted into a weird expression.

He stared at me, a muscle ticking in his jaw, before heavy resignation washed over his features.

He leaned down, tilting his left cheek toward me. "Just slap me," he said, his voice dead. "The pillow hit the right side.

You hate when things are uneven, don't you?" What kind of delusional script are you writing in your head right now?

I squeezed my eyes shut, a heavy exhaustion settling in my bones. "I don't want to hit you." Vance clicked his tongue—a sharp, dismissive sound.

Before I could blink, his large hands gripped my waist. He hoisted me off the floor, setting me onto the edge of the mattress. He dropped to one knee.

His brow furrowed as he shoved my bare feet into my plush slippers. "No socks.

No shoes," he mocked, his tone laced with bitter irony. "Are you going to complain to me when your feet are freezing later?" He knelt there, his massive frame folded into an agonizingly submissive posture.

Reality snapped back into focus. I yanked my ankle out of his searing grip. "I can do it myself." His hands hovered in the empty air.

The silence in the room thickened, suffocating and heavy. Slowly, he straightened up to his full, towering height. His face was an emotionless void. "Then I'll help you get ready.

Move. You're going to be late." No. I couldn't treat him like a personal servant anymore. I cut him off, my voice firm. "It's fine. I don't need your help.

Just go downstairs and eat breakfast." A raw flicker of shock—and something dangerously close to panic—flashed in his dark eyes.

He stared at me for a long, agonizing second. "Fine," he muttered, turning on his heel. "Whatever you want." But he was acting so weird.

The penthouse stairs were wide and shallow, yet he managed to trip twice on his way out. I ordered Victor to take him to campus.

I took my own car, detouring to the luxury boutique to grab the necklace I’d ordered last night. I figured Vance would be thrilled.

I wasn't breathing down his neck or dragging him to class with me. But the second I pushed open the heavy doors to the lecture hall, I froze.

Vance was slumped in the front row, glaring at the doorway with murderous intensity.

The moment his dark eyes locked onto mine, the heavy tension in his shoulders instantly melted. …Who the hell pissed him off now?

Chapter 3 I blatantly ignored Vance tapping the empty desk beside him. Instead, I ducked my head and made a beeline for the very back row. I was barely scraping by with Cminuses.

There was no way I deserved to sit next to an academic god like him. I honestly tried to pay attention. But my attention span was equivalent to a goldfish.

I barely survived until the tenminute break. Just as I dropped my head onto my folded arms to catch up on sleep, a random girl walked up to Vance’s desk.

Glowing text immediately flooded my vision: [Male Lead energy on point. He’s basically the TA, of course everyone wants his notes.] [Where is the actual Female Lead?

This NPC is totally using homework as an excuse to get his number.] [Just watch. The toxic villainess is going to completely lose her mind.

Cue her classic line: 'How dare you look at another woman?!'] My phone buzzed against the desk. It was a text from Vance.

A status report. [A girl from the lecture is asking me about the assignment.] The old me would have completely flipped out. It was a direct threat to my territory.

Plus, he was sitting while she stood over him. With his broad chest pushing against that hoodie, she definitely had a frontrow view of the goods. But I was a changed woman now.

I typed out a totally rational, unbothered reply: [Oh, that's fine.

You don't need to report little things like that to me.] A second later, his response popped up. […Little things?] The typing bubble hovered on my screen for an agonizingly long time.

Finally, three rapidfire texts hit my phone. [Why don't you care that I'm talking to another girl?] [Are you still mad about yesterday?] [The custom compression shirt hasn't arrived yet.

The second it gets here, I'll put it on.] I stared at the screen, completely baffled by his logic. Why were we back to the suffocating shirt?

Besides, he was destined to meet his true Female Lead anyway. No amount of toxic policing on my part could stop fate. I bit my lip and typed out a serious response. [I'm not mad.

Stop overthinking it.] [Everyone has the right to make friends. You can talk to girls, Vance.

You don't need my permission or to report back to me every single time.] A harsh crack echoed from the front of the hall. I jerked my head up.

Vance was leaning over, his face a thunderous mask as he scooped his phone off the floor. The screen protector was entirely spiderwebbed.

I eventually let my heavy eyelids drop, burying my face in my arms. Just as I drifted off, someone jabbed me hard in the ribs.

I blinked the sleep from my eyes, squinting at the arrogant, smirking face invading my personal space. Every toxic villainess needed her evil sidekick.

Naturally, my childhood best friend, Tristan, filled that role flawlessly. We were basically the toxic, dumpsterfire version of soulmates.

Absolute red flags. "I thought you were partying in Ibiza," I hissed, dropping my voice to an excited whisper. "Why the hell are you back? And in an 8 AM lecture?

Who even are you right now?" Tristan propped his chin in his hand, looking like a hollow shell. "Yeah, well.

I totaled my old man Alistair's favorite Pagani while street racing last night.

He blew up my phone ten times and froze all my black cards." I couldn't help but smirk, relishing the schadenfreude. "Need me to float you some cash?" "If I borrow it, I have to pay it back," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "And I'm broke broke.

But whatever, I have stuff I can liquidate.

How much do you think I can get for this?" He tapped the silver chain resting against his collarbone. "Just copped the newest drop in Milan right before the cards got declined." I leaned in, squinting to inspect the pendant.

My stomach dropped. It was the exact same designer necklace I had ordered for Vance last night. Chapter 4 Tristan and I were toxic besties for a reason.

Our tastes were identical. "Sell it to me," I mused, tapping my chin. "It's a men's chain, but I can rock it as a matching set." But then I really thought about it.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. "Actually, never mind. We're going to break up sooner or later anyway." Knock, knock. Two sharp raps against the desk made me jump out of my skin.

I snapped my head up. Vance was towering over us, his face draped in menacing shadow. A dark, twisted smile played on his lips. "Having fun?

You didn't even notice the lecture ended." A weird, guilty knot twisted in my stomach. "Did it?

I didn't hear the bell." Under the crushing weight of Vance's dead stare, I scrambled up.

I started shoving my stuff into my tote, completely missing the sleek velvet box sliding out of my desk. It hit the floor.

The necklace and the customized greeting card spilled out onto the linoleum. Vance crouched down, scooping them up. His name was written right there on the card.

It was glaringly obvious this was a gift for him. But Vance's eyes didn't soften. Instead, his gaze locked onto the identical silver chain resting against Tristan's collarbone.

His eyes went entirely dark. Panic flared hot in my chest. Then came the bonechilling scoff. "‘Break up sooner or later’…" Vance repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "Right.

I get it." He took a slow step closer, the air around him suffocatingly tense. "No wonder you've been so cold to me lately. You already found my replacement.

Didn't you?" I had been bending over backwards to be sweet to him! How the hell was that being cold? Did this guy literally need to be physically abused to feel loved?

The glowing text swarmed my vision again: [This villainess is such a hypocrite.

She locks the male lead down, but she's out here flirting with her childhood bestie.] [Oh, his villain meter is about to spike through the roof.] [The male lead holds fatal grudges.

She just added another nail to her coffin.] Desperation hijacked my brain. I spun around and slapped Tristan across the face.

A perfectly calculated slap—enough to sting, but not enough to bruise. "Are you done acting like a total psycho?" I cried out, faking absolute heartbreak. "You just had to buy the exact same chain as my boyfriend?

And then force me to tell you who wore it better? Have some selfrespect and cover up!

You couldn't even compare to a fraction of the man he is!" Tristan looked like his soul had just left his body. Vance froze, utterly derailed by the sudden chaos.

Seizing the moment, I snatched the necklace from Vance's grip.

I quickly stepped into his space, reaching up to clasp the cold silver around his thick neck. "See?" I breathed, smoothing my hands over his chest. "I knew it.

It looks infinitely better on you." But the tension didn't break. Vance stared down at me in dead silence for what felt like hours.

Then, his voice cracked with raw, unhinged jealousy. "Why did he get to take your slap?" Tristan's eyes practically bulged out of his skull.

He cupped his stinging cheek, muttering under his breath. "You two are absolute psycho soulmates.

If you want me dead, just shoot me…" I opened my mouth to keep up the charade, but a shadow fell over our desks.

A stunning girl clutching a stack of textbooks hovered nervously nearby.

Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "I'm so sorry to interrupt." She looked up at Vance, a shy blush painting her cheeks. "But the next lecture is about to start.

We got paired up for the Orgo project, Vance. Could I get your number?" Glowing text immediately erupted around her like a halo: [It’s happening!

The Female Lead is finally here!] [She's actually had a massive crush on him for ages.

This chem project is where they fall madly in love.] [Cue the epic romance background music! 'A Thousand Years' is officially playing!!] [It’s over for the villainess.

Didn't she literally delete every female contact in his phone? Well, except his mom.] [The true heroine takes the crown.

The villainess is about to lose her absolute mind.] [Doesn't matter what she does.

He’s destined to fall for the true female lead at first sight.] Chapter 5 Vance instinctively turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

I immediately averted my gaze, playing the ultimate understanding girlfriend. I was going to give them the perfect, undisturbed space for their loveatfirstsight moment!

I covertly kicked Tristan in the shin under the desk. "You guys chat. I just remembered I have somewhere to be. Gotta go." I bolted out the door before anyone could blink.

The second I hit the hallway, my panicked facade melted into deep concern. "Bro, I'll Venmo you five grand for the slap right now," I told Tristan, who was practically wheezing as he caught up to me. "It didn't hurt, right?

I totally pulled my punch." Tristan let out a breathless, cynical laugh. "Taking the fall for you in front of our parents wasn't enough?

Now I have to take the heat from your psychotic boyfriend, too. You've literally slapped me into submission; my face is completely numb at this point." Honestly? I was toxic.

So what? Thank god Tristan was a fellow villain. I could actually drop the act around him. I patted his shoulder. "Say less.

If the whole world turns against you, I'll treat you to Nobu." Tristan offered a deadpan smile. "Vivienne, you are the whole world turning against me.

The second I walk away from you, the sun literally comes out." We hit the designer boutiques after that.

Tristan actually had some use—his height and build were practically identical to Vance's.

I used him as a human mannequin, swiping my card for a massive haul of new clothes for my boyfriend. But the entire time, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

A heavy, suffocating gaze seemed to track my every move. It prickled right between my shoulder blades. I stepped into the penthouse.

The living room was plunged into total darkness. "You're back." The low, haunting voice sliced through the silence. "I'll heat up your food." I flicked on the lights.

The long dining table was covered in a lavish spread of untouched, icecold dishes. Panic spiked. "Don't bother," I blurted out. "I already ate.

I'm not really hungry." Vance stood dead still in the shadows. A dark, hollow laugh slipped past his lips. "Oh," he murmured. "So you filled up on someone else while you were out.

Is that it?" He stepped out of the shadows, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt. In one smooth, predatory motion, he stripped it off. "Then let's eat something else," he rasped.

A chilling, quiet madness dripped from his words. He stepped fully into the harsh overhead light. My breath hitched. He was wearing the custom compression shirt.

The microscopic amount of black fabric stretched tight across his chest, clinging to every single ridge of hot muscle.

The seams groaned under the strain of his massive pecs, somehow managing not to snap.

Below that, the shirt gripped the sharp, Vcut lines of his torso and his perfectly sculpted abs. The sheer magnetism of his body was suffocating.

I could hear his ragged, uneven breathing. The heavy, wet swallow of his throat. I should have been devouring the view.

But glowing text erupted in my vision, and sheer panic flooded my veins. [He just met the Female Lead! Shouldn't he be saving himself for her?

Stop acting like a total slut!] [Villainess, avert your damn eyes! Only the true heroine gets to look at that!

Back off!] [My ace ass is genuinely sweating right now…] [What did she train him to be?

That compression shirt is literally his Roman Empire now.] [Gaslighting really drives a man insane.

She flirts with her childhood bestie and gives the male lead the silent treatment. Men get competitive too, damn.] My stomach dropped. Vance belonged to Eloise.

Starting right now, I had to protect his purity! If he was tainted goods, what if the Female Lead rejected him?

A man's innocence was his absolute best asset! "Aren't you freezing?" I asked, my voice deadly earnest. "Put a shirt on, Vance." He froze.

The brutal, clinical rejection slammed into him like a physical blow. He swayed on his feet. A violent tremor wracked his massive frame.

The dangerous predator vanished, leaving behind something utterly shattered.

A jagged breath tore from his lungs. "You turned me into this," he whispered, his voice cracking with pure agony. "And now you think I'm cheap.

Don't you?" Chapter 6 My mind raced to process his words. Panic clawed at my throat. "What?

What did I even say to make you think that?" I pleaded, desperation leaking into my voice. "It hasn't even been two minutes.

Can I just take it back?" I had zero clue what I did wrong. But I had to fix it. My hands shook as I shoved the mountain of shopping bags into his chest. "It's getting cold out.

I bought you some new clothes," I babbled. "Try them on. They should fit perfectly." I thrust a plastic cup toward him. "That new boba shop at the mall dropped a seasonal drink.

I got you one." Vance's dark hair fell forward, casting heavy shadows over his eyes.

He stared blankly at the bags, his voice a hollow murmur. "I get it," he rasped. "Someone else didn't want them, so you're giving them to me.

Right?" A jagged, bitter laugh slipped from his lips. "Ha. Whatever. It doesn't matter. I'm your boyfriend. I'm the main priority." My brain basically shortcircuited.

But Vance was already turning away. He retreated into the shadows, his broad shoulders slumped in absolute defeat. A few minutes later, I refreshed my Instagram feed.

Vance had posted a photo of the matcha latte I gave him. He deliberately centered the green leaf logo of the boba cup.

The caption read: I refuse to be just the halfsweet option in anyone's life anymore. Right below it, I saw a comment from Eloise, the true Female Lead: Would 100% sugar work?

Later on campus, Eloise held out a fresh fruit tea toward him. Vance kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He didn't even move to take it.

Instead, his dead eyes slid over to me, silently demanding my verdict. I widened my eyes, practically telepathizing my encouragement. Take it! This was a gift from the Female Lead!

This was the crucial bonding moment! Vance let out a heavy sigh. "You see that?" he told Eloise, his voice dripping with forced helplessness. "My girlfriend doesn't approve.

She doesn't let me accept things from other girls. Sorry." Eloise’s eyes went wide. Total shock and crushing disappointment washed over her pretty face.

Cue the 'kid with a million question marks' meme in my head. We walked into the lecture hall. I immediately pivoted toward the back row to slack off with Tristan.

But Vance's massive hand clamped down on my wrist. He dragged me to the front row, his dark eyes locking onto Tristan. "This is my girlfriend.

She belongs next to me," Vance stated, his tone deadly calm. "Oh, and your grades are garbage.

Don't infect her with your stupidity." Tristan's jaw practically unhinged. "Bro, who the fuck even asked you?" Later that day, I posted a quick selfie on my story.

Vance immediately reposted it to his own grid with a psychotic caption: Do you guys know how gorgeous my girlfriend is? If you do, you're dead. If you don't, you're also dead.

I was genuinely losing my grip on reality. His unhinged behavior made zero sense. Glowing text swarmed my vision again: [Drop the dogtraining tutorial, villainess.

I need my man acting like this.] [Can the toxic villainess just back off already?

She's ruining the main couple's sweet romance!] [The male lead is giving desperate husband clinging to his wife. He's overcompensating because he's terrified she'll dump him.

Wait, I kind of ship it…] [Ship what? They belong in two completely different worlds. They’re destined to crash and burn. Just wait.

His billionaire parents are about to find him and drag him back to his oldmoney empire.] They were right. To Vance, I was just the wet sand left behind after the tide rolled out.

A temporary mark that was destined to be washed away completely. So, when Vance's biological mother finally tracked me down, I was fully prepared for the fallout.

She took a delicate sip of her espresso, a perfectly manicured smile on her lips. "So, you're Vance's girlfriend?" Chapter 7 If my life was a cheap billionaire romance novel, I knew exactly what was coming next. "Name your price.

How much to leave my son?" My eyes dropped to the ultrarare Hermès Faubourg Birkin sitting beside her. I tried to suppress it, but my materialistic heart skipped a beat.

New York old money. She probably had enough purchase history to get literally anything. I took a deep breath. "Ma'am, don't worry.

I know I'm totally out of his league." I held up a hand. "You don't even have to pay me. I'll break up with him.

It's just…" She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, thoroughly amused. She gave a slight nod, silently urging me to continue.

I agonized over it for a second before my voice dropped to a pathetic whisper. "I've been trying to score a Himalaya Kelly forever. Could you… maybe help me secure an offer?

You can just put it on my Amex." Glowing text flooded my vision instantly: [This toxic villainess is actually braindead. She's selling out the Male Lead for a purse?] [LMAO.

Talk about asking for pennies from a billionaire.] [At least she has morals. She's still paying for it herself.] [Talk about fumbling the bag.

Literally.] [Wait, why is she the one initiating the breakup? I guess she really just saw him as a toy.

She doesn't give a single fuck about him.] Vance's mother let out a soft, elegant laugh. "That's it?" She stood up gracefully. "Come with me.

Let me show you my closet." She grabbed my hand, leading me deeper into the massive estate. My jaw literally unhinged. An entire walkin closet dedicated to Hermès.

Every single bag was exotic leather!!! She gestured vaguely to Rita. "This wall. And that one. Box all of them up. Send them to this young lady." I was actually going to pass out.

I found my soulmate, and it was my boyfriend's mom! Trading one toxic man for this many Birkins was the ultimate return on investment.

Right before I practically sprinted out the door, I made sure to pledge my absolute loyalty. "Ma'am, you have my word! I'm breaking up with him the second I get home.

I'll send him straight back to his billionaire empire!" I bolted out of there faster than an Olympic sprinter, terrified she would change her mind about the bags.

Which meant I completely missed her confused murmur behind me. "Wait… I never said I wanted you two to break up." I hit the penthouse and immediately raided Vance's bedroom.

I started shoving his clothes into a massive duffel bag. The shower shut off. Vance stepped out, a white terrycloth robe hanging loosely from his broad shoulders.

He froze, the towel in his hands pausing midrub against his damp hair.

He frowned, genuinely confused. "Are you going somewhere?" Then, his eyes dropped to the shirts I was holding. His expression darkened. "…Wait." I nodded frantically. "Yes, wait!

You're going back to your massive oldmoney empire. I'm packing for you." I clapped my hands, flashing a huge fake smile. "Congratulations, Vance!

You get to live that crazy rich billionaire lifestyle now. I am so incredibly happy for you