Service Was Mediocre: Reviewing My Billionaire Lover

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 768 | Released on: 22/01/2026

curled like dead skin. The Uber driver didn't even pull into

garette, her movements jerky and nervous. She looked exhausted. Dar

aid, tossing the cigarette onto the a

a lump form in her throat. In the original stor

smoke and lemon cleaner. It was cramped, wi

s," Zoe said, sitting on the edge of the bed

have work to do. I need to go to the studio l

suicide. Everyone there hates you right no

d. She started unpacking her suitca

t Studio lot. Avery had changed into black jeans and a black t-s

hadows of the soundstages, b

ll. Look

n of a major producer. A man who had peaked in high sch

flanked by two guys in expensive sui

but it came back," Hamlin sn

ve us alone, Hamlin. We'r

t wasn't a hard shove, but it was dismissive. Zo

very's head. Her visio

y said. Her v

stepped into her personal space. He s

her hair, a move he used to do to intimidate girls in prep s

er eyes: a humid training hall, the sting of sweat, and an instructor's voice yelling about vulnerable points. It was for a role in

t his wri

in, pivoting her hips. She drove her elbow into his solar pl

air leaving his l

e collapsed onto the pavement, gasping like a

e. They looked from Ham

he brought her face

whispered, "and I bre

d up. She adjus

s go,

mouth open. She looked like she

do that?" Zoe hissed as they

sses," Avery lied. "K

d exited through the side gat

ty camera blinked red. It had captured the enti

his stomach, tears of humiliation sting

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Service Was Mediocre: Reviewing My Billionaire Lover

Min Xiaoxi Billionaires

“I woke up in a luxury penthouse with a blinding headache and bruises on my thighs, staring at the man who was about to ruin my life. Cullen Hunter, the most dangerous billionaire in Los Angeles, was stepping out of the shower, ready to discard me with a signed check and a cold look of disdain. Then the memories hit me like a physical blow. I realized I had woken up in the "Death Flag" scene of a script-this was the exact morning Avery Hall was supposed to be kicked out, humiliated, and started her downward spiral into a tragic death. The nightmare escalated within minutes. My own brother, Ernest, called to tell me I was no longer a member of the family, freezing my trust fund and evicting me from my apartment. He believed the lies of our "perfect" adopted sister, Cheslie, who had leaked her own private photos and framed me for it just to gain sympathy. Even my fiancé, Preston, couldn't wait to dump me in public, calling me a "crazy bitch" before running straight into Cheslie's waiting arms. I was suddenly homeless, bankrupt, and the most hated woman in the city. My family wanted me to crawl back and apologize on my knees for a crime I didn't commit, while the man I had just spent the night with watched my destruction with boredom. I didn't understand how they could all turn on me so fast, or how I was expected to survive in a world where the script was literally written for my failure. "Avery, don't make this difficult," Cullen warned, waiting for the tears he thought were coming. But I refused to play the victim. I pulled three hundred dollars of my last bits of cash, slapped them onto Cullen's nightstand, and told him the service was mediocre. I wasn't going to beg for love or mercy anymore; I was going to rewrite the ending of this story and become the most dangerous femme fatale Hollywood had ever seen.”