The Betrayed Girlfriend's Secret Million Dollar Comeback

Chapter 2

Word Count: 668 | Released on: Today at 18:57

ra's

he hazy morning l

ntle kiss to my forehead. He whispered a lie, saying he had to go to so

click, I lay on the cold, hol

search bar. It was a newly built residential tower located in an upsc

al media. Her accounts were completely publi

required reservations six months in advance. Half-hidden in the corner of the frame was Presto

inner. He scolded me, calling it a boring and wasteful idea, and then boiled

olled down m

BMW MINI. The caption read that her "perfect boyfriend" had bought

Soaked to the bone, I stood helplessly by the side of the road, while Preston refused to pay for repairs, le

d found an album from their three

tire penthouse: a high-end refrigerator, an impor

ared a rundown, unheated apartment for five years, Preston had quie

worn-out coat that had been m

at high-rise made of smooth stone and glass. I leaned against t

V with darkly tinted windows dro

ously, one hand possessively resting on Preston

-relaxed, open, as if completely detached

traffic, shoved my hands deep into my empty pockets

my phone began to vibrate

was blunt and clear: she knew I had been standing ac

exactly that she knew who I was be

rs tapping the keyboard, replying that I was Preston's

ting she was typing flickered on and off

te: In Preston's heart, your re

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

The Betrayed Girlfriend's Secret Million Dollar Comeback

Qing Jiu Short stories

“For eight years, I lived in a freezing, unheated apartment, washing the bloodstains out of my mob enforcer boyfriend's suits every day. He strictly gave me two thousand dollars a month, saying we had to live frugally and save up enough money to escape this dark world. But when I was washing his clothes, I found a receipt for a custom engagement ring worth sixty-eight thousand dollars. That ring wasn't for me, but for his secret lover, Mia. I cracked the password on his encrypted laptop and uncovered his three-year-long double life. He wasn't a bottom-tier thug struggling to survive in a dangerous game at all. He embezzled forty-eight thousand dollars from his mob boss's accounts every month to buy Mia diamonds, cars, and a luxury apartment in Manhattan. And meanwhile, I was drinking watery porridge just to save a little on the electricity bill. When I confronted him, he didn't show a single ounce of guilt, accusing me instead: "You're too heavy. Being around you suffocates me." He thought I was a pathetic parasite who couldn't survive without his protection. But what he didn't know was that I had already quietly earned over a million dollars through legitimate antique painting restoration work. I packed my bags. It was time to let the mob know who was really stealing their money.”