Upgrading to the Billionaire SEAL

Through the sliding glass door, I watched my boyfriend of five years flirting intimately with another young woman right in the middle of our living room.

The cat I had handraised from a kitten was purring obediently in her lap.

I stood out on the balcony, shivering in the biting wind, reduced to nothing more than a dirty little secret intruding on their perfect domestic scene.

Pressed against my ear, my mother’s hysterical voice buzzed through the phone, demanding I snap out of my delusion and go on a blind date.

This was my reality, all because my arrogant boyfriend had laid down his ultimate condition: he wouldn't even consider marrying me until his precious, unrelated "little sister" tied the knot first.

I had swallowed my pride and caved every single time before. But this time, I was done. Chapter 1 Late that night, my mom must have seen my reply.

My phone buzzed with a contact card she excitedly forwarded for my blind date. [Declan. Sixfoottwo, former Navy SEAL, rocking a perfect eightpack.

His family owns a massive local real estate empire—true old money.] Whether Declan actually had an eightpack under his shirt was beyond me.

But since when did my mother make abdominal definition a key requirement for a husband? She was really keeping up with the times.

I sent Declan a friend request with a note introducing myself. He didn't accept it. Donovan finally walked back through the front door after dropping Harlow off.

He was wearing a fresh change of clothes, which meant he had showered at her place. Again. Sometimes I wasn't sure if this apartment was his actual home or just a convenient hotel.

When we first moved into this building, he bought the unit right across the hall—just to make it easier to "take care" of Harlow.

Then, under the guise of celebrating her new place, Donovan practically lived across the hall for an entire month. Back then, Donovan would always say, "It's a new place.

A young girl living alone gets scared." I had swallowed that excuse like an idiot. But thinking about it now, wasn't I a young woman, too? "Still awake?

Don't you have work tomorrow?" Donovan asked. He shrugged off his jacket, climbed into bed, and reached over to pull me into his arms.

I didn't pull away, nor did I answer his question. Instead, I kept my voice flat. "My mom called again today.

She asked when we're getting married." Hearing this, Donovan deflected. "Marriage is just a meaningless piece of paper.

I'm in the middle of a massive career sprint right now; I don't have the energy to deal with all those tedious ceremonies." "Besides, Harlow doesn't even have a boyfriend yet.

There's no rush." I pressed my lips into a thin line and just stared at him. Donovan let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not like I'm running away.

I honestly don't know what your mother is so worried about." "If you're just worried your five years of youth haven't cashed out, how about I just write you a massive check as compensation?" A harsh, humorless laugh slipped past my lips.

My chest tightened until it was hard to breathe. I couldn't even fathom the mindset required to spit out something so degrading.

Five years of devotion, and it boiled down to a payout for sleeping with me? "If you don't want to get married, then let's just not do it!" I snapped.

Donovan's jaw tightened as his temper flared. He threw off the covers, got out of bed, and headed straight for the den. "I don't care either way!

You guys are the ones constantly hounding me!" He paused, his gaze dropping to the phone in my hand. "Your mom told you to go on a blind date, didn't she?" My breath hitched.

My fingers tightened around the device. Donovan knew everything. "Audrey, I'm not going to stop you," he said. "Until Harlow gets married, I'm not tying the knot.

If your mother wants you to go on a blind date, then go." "It might finally get her off our backs.

It's not like you're ever going to fall for someone else anyway." His tone left no room for debate. The den door clicked shut. Chapter 2 A dry scoff scraped against my throat.

But Donovan was dead wrong this time. Donovan and I met at a sophomore Greek mixer. Later, we bumped into each other at a mall just as a massive fire broke out.

He dragged me out of the burning building, disregarding his own life. Love at first sight, the adrenaline bonding—every romantic trope hit me at once.

Pushed by my best friend, I made the first move. People say girls chasing guys is a walk in the park, but chasing Donovan felt like scaling a goddamn mountain. Donovan was icecold.

His words were toxic, and he always managed to casually cut people down. His indiscriminate verbal crossfire drained me. I still remember my first real attempt at wooing him.

I wore this stunning red dress, sprinted across two campuses to grab his favorite breakfast, and staked out his dorm building at the crack of dawn.

Donovan walked out, took one look at me, and his brows pulled together in a tight V. "It's twenty degrees out.

You're wearing that flimsy thing just to look good?" he stated, his voice merciless. "Plus, that color ages you by a decade.

You'd look better in a puffer jacket." It was the morning rush. A crowd of students streamed past.

My face burned so hot I wanted the concrete sidewalk to crack open and swallow me whole. Soon, everyone knew I was chasing him.

The whole campus mocked me, saying a painfully average girl like me didn't deserve an Ivy League genius like Donovan.

They told me to save my energy and hit the library to grind through more calculus problem sets instead. But I refused to quit.

I kept staking out his dorm and delivering his morning coffee like clockwork.

Then, I saw Donovan's comment on the campus forum thread roasting me: "If you have time to dissect someone else, worry about your own GPA." Finals were creeping up, and our major had a brutal thirtypercent pass rate.

I barely scraped by that semester, and it was only because Donovan had stepped in to tutor me.

From that moment on, I stamped a new label on him: cold on the outside, warm on the inside. We finally made it official junior year.

Harlow had come to campus to see Donovan and almost got hit by a car. I grabbed her at the last second, pulling her out of the vehicle's path.

She walked away without a scratch, but I ended up with a severely sprained ankle. I was stuck in a cast for three months.

Those three months were when Donovan and I really heated up. Lately, I caught myself wondering if the only reason Donovan agreed to date me… was because I saved Harlow's life.

After all, ever since his mentor passed away, Harlow had been the undisputed center of Donovan's entire universe. When I finally woke up again, Donovan was already gone for work.

A note sat on the kitchen island, bearing Donovan's entitled, expected command: "Harlow wants your handmade lasagna for dinner tonight.

Remember to let the red wine breathe ahead of time." I crushed the paper into a tight ball and pitched it into the trash can. I only ever catered to Harlow because I loved Donovan.

Now that I was throwing Donovan away, Harlow meant nothing to me. I sank onto the living room sofa and let my eyes sweep over the apartment.

I had picked out every single piece of furniture and decor in this place. Donovan hadn't contributed a single thought.

Yet, in Harlow's apartment, Donovan had personally scoured showrooms to handpick everything down to the hardwood floor panels. Stepping back from the delusion, the reality hit hard.

I had actually endured this blatant double standard for five agonizing years. My phone screen lit up. Declan had accepted my friend request. [Hi, I'm Declan.

Sorry, I didn't see the notification.] [Your mom mentioned you're flying back this weekend. I'll pick you up at the airport.] I didn't play hard to get.

I typed back a single word: [Okay.] After forcing down a quick breakfast, I pulled up the text thread with my boss.

Two weeks ago, my boss had strongly recommended me to take over the Director position at the West Coast branch.

As long as I completed this crossstate transfer, I could directly enter the company's core management team. Initially, I had turned it down to stay near Donovan.

But now, I had zero reasons left to decline.

Chapter 3 My boss replied within seconds: [Didn't you turn down the opportunity to leave the East Coast just for Donovan before?] [I've thought it through.

My future is far more important than a man.] Hitting send, a heavy weight lifted off my chest. Life boiled down to a few major milestones: career, marriage, and personal growth.

Cutting Donovan out of the equation pushed every single one of those milestones forward. That afternoon, I headed out to the office to hand over my projects.

I yanked the front door open, only to find Harlow blocking my path. "You're heading to the grocery store, right?" she asked, her tone dripping with entitlement. "I forgot to have Donovan tell you—I'm suddenly doing strict carb control today." "I don't want that greasy lasagna anymore.

I want a freshly made black truffle lowfat seafood risotto!" I stood rooted to the floorboards, my gaze locking onto hers without a flicker of emotion. Harlow was nineteen.

Beautiful, doeeyed, and obsessed with playing the innocent girl next door in her little designer dresses.

Except today, she clutched the latest Hermès Birkin bag and balanced on a pair of signature redsoled Louboutins.

Head to toe, she was draped in trophies swiped on Donovan's supplementary black card.

Donovan split his income into two uneven pies: eighty percent funded Harlow’s vanity, while a meager twenty percent trickled down to sustain our shared apartment.

The irony left a metallic taste in my mouth.

I was supposedly Donovan's girlfriend, yet the only roses I received on Valentine's Day were the rejects Harlow had decided clashed with her living room aesthetic.

In the past, I wore blinders, convincing myself that any scraps were better than nothing.

My best friend used to call me an idiot. "If he doesn't value you, he doesn't love you," she would warn.

Back then, I actually defended him. "If he didn't care, why would he give them to me instead of some random girl?" Looking back, I wanted to reach through time and slap myself across the face.

Love had plastered a massive, forgiving filter over Donovan. Stripped of that filter, he was nothing but trash.

Catching my deadpan stare, Harlow deliberately flashed her hand, showing off the new gold ring Donovan had just bought her. "Donovan is just so good to me.

I told him I wanted what everyone else had, and he immediately took me shopping. I'm the absolute most important person in his life." "Oh, by the way, Audrey.

Do you know why a guy as successful as Donovan refuses to dump you?" She stared straight into my eyes, enunciating every single syllable. "Because in his eyes, you're just a livein maid he gets to sleep with for free." My knuckles turned white against the doorframe.

The words were a vicious gut punch.

But knowing Donovan, Harlow wasn't just throwing out a baseless insult to provoke me; those were exactly the kind of words Donovan would say behind my back.

A metallic taste of revulsion coated my tongue.

How did I ever fall for such a piece of garbage in the first place? "If you want seafood risotto, tell Donovan to cook it." I stepped forward, closing the distance. "Now, get out of my way.

I have to get to work." I straightened my spine, brushing right past her without a backward glance.

Harlow, used to me bending over backward to please her, stood rooted to the floorboards.

By the time her brain processed the rejection, she was already frantically dialing Donovan to whine and play the victim.

As I rounded the corner to the elevators, Harlow's shrill voice echoed down the hall. "Donovan said if you don't want to cook for us, then don't ever cook again!

He's never touching your food anyway!" A dry scoff escaped my lips. I didn't even bother turning around. The handover at the office went smoothly.

Since it was Friday, I booked a Saturday morning flight back home.

When I returned to the apartment that evening, I punched in the passcode. [Error.] I paused, then pressed my thumb against the biometric scanner. [Access Denied.] A cold rush of adrenaline spiked through my veins.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Donovan's number, but it went straight to a busy signal.

My texts sat there, completely ignored. [You changed the lock code?] [This isn't just your apartment!] [I pay half the mortgage, and my name is on the deed right next to yours!] Chapter 4 My text messages sank into the void.

A dry, humorless laugh slipped past my lips. I marched straight across the hall and jammed my finger against the doorbell. Harlow pulled the door open within seconds.

Spotting me, she slapped a hand over her mouth in a calculated display of mock shock. "Oh, if it isn't Audrey.

Why aren't you going home?" "Where's Donovan?" I demanded, cutting straight to the chase.

Harlow blocked the doorway, crossing her arms with a smug little smile. "Since you refused to cook for me, Donovan is obviously making dinner himself.

I'm his little sister." "It's completely natural for him to take care of me. Besides, Donovan and I have a very special relationship.

Do you have a problem with that?" My fingers dug hard into the plastic of my phone case.

I took a slow, measured breath. "Tell him to come out." "Nope," Harlow popped the 'p', lifting her chin. I let out a sharp scoff and glanced past her shoulder.

Down the hall, I could clearly see the broad line of Donovan's back moving around the kitchen island. A fresh layer of frost coated my chest.

There was zero chance he couldn't hear us. "Fine." Harlow's perfectly drawn brows knit together. "What are you trying to do? Break and enter?" I didn't waste another second on her.

I spun on my heel, marched right back to my own door, and pulled out my phone. I dialed a 24hour emergency locksmith, specifically requesting a crew to come drill the lock out.

Within twenty minutes, a musclebound guy in work boots showed up with a heavyduty power drill, tearing into the metal deadbolt with a deafening screech.

The grinding noise echoed down the entire hallway. Harlow shrieked, "Donovan! She's lost her mind!" Only then did Donovan finally deem the situation worthy of his attention.

He stepped out of Harlow's apartment, tossing a kitchen towel onto the counter. He stared at the locksmith practically dismantling our front door, then locked his gaze on me.

His jaw visibly tightened. "This is our home." "Oh, so you actually remember this is our home?" I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then what the hell do you call changing the passcode and wiping my fingerprint from the scanner?" Donovan's brow twitched.

His eyes darted to Harlow on instinct. Harlow bit her lip, looking up at him with wide, innocent doe eyes. Donovan knew exactly what she had done.

And, true to form, he let it slide without a second thought. "Donovan, I didn't do anything," she whined softly.

He let out a helpless sigh and reached over to ruffle her hair. "Alright, I'll handle this. Go back inside and eat." If this were the past, I would have ripped into him.

I would have fought tooth and nail for an explanation. But now? I was just bonetired. I let Donovan deal with the locksmith and pay the invoice.

The moment we stepped over the ruined threshold into our apartment, Donovan went on the offensive. "Audrey, not everyone in the world has as much free time as you do.

Stop acting like a spoiled child, causing massive scenes over absolutely nothing. In the end, I'm always the one cleaning up your messes." I treated his words like white noise.

I walked straight past him into the bedroom, yanked my suitcase from the closet, and started packing. I grabbed my passport, my IDs, and everything essential.

Zipping the luggage shut, I grabbed the handle and headed straight for the exit. Donovan stepped into my path, his large frame blocking the door. "Where do you think you're going?

Are you seriously throwing a tantrum and running away?" "You had a locksmith take a power drill to our front door, and I haven't even gotten mad at you yet.

Now you're throwing an attitude at me?" I didn't say a single word.

Staring at the man standing in front of me, the utter absurdity of my five wasted years hit me right in the chest. "Put that suitcase away—" Before Donovan could finish his command, a small, hollow smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

My knuckles turned white around the plastic handle. "You're blocking my way. You're trying to stop me from going home for a blind date. Why?

Are you finally planning to marry me?" The question struck him like a physical blow. His jaw went slack. A moment later, he dropped his arm.

He probably convinced himself I was just going through the motions to appease my mother, because he actually took a silent step back, clearing my path.

The sheer pathetic reality of my existence pressed like a heavy weight against my ribs. But this time, everything was going to change