The billionaire scion of New York, Julian Blackwood, famously despised gold diggers. Unfortunately, I was one. When I found out about his little pet peeve, I asked him casually, "Julian, what would you do if someone got close to you just for your money?" He didn't even look up from his phone. "Kill them." Me: ? Excuse me? Since when were you a psycho? That was a dealbreaker. I was here for the bag, not a body bag. I packed my valuables and ran away overnight. I left a note: [Not gonna bother you anymore. I'm leaving. Hope you find someone who loves you for you, not your wallet.] Three days later, I was haggling at a pawn shop over my designer bags when a black Centurion card slammed onto the counter. The man standing there had red-rimmed eyes. "Babe," he rasped, "take all my money. Just bother me for the rest of your life, okay?" 1 "Babe, what are you looking at?" Julian had a networking dinner tonight and didn't get back until nearly eleven. The scent of expensive scotch clung to him, making me wrinkle my nose. I pushed him toward the bathroom. "Don't kiss me until you scrub that smell off!" He laughed and scooped me up bridal style, carrying me into the bathroom with him. Steam filled the room, fogging up the mirrors. His hand reached for the strap of my silk nightgown. "Let's shower together." "No," I refused. He insisted. Riiip— The ridiculously expensive, easily-torn nightgown Julian had picked out split in two. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Babe..." I kept my face deadpan. "I said no. I already showered before you got home. Washing twice is bad for my skin." I pulled the tattered silk around me and shoved him back into the shower, closing the glass door. "Stop ripping my clothes! They're expensive!" Seriously! Just take it off normally! That was the third one this week. Spendthrift! The water ran loudly; Julian was clearly speed-running his shower. I lay on the bed, scrolling through my phone. A WeChat notification popped up from my best friend, Sarah. Sarah: [Look at this link] It was an article titled: [Deep Dive into the Secret Lives of the Elite!] I sent back a question mark and clicked it. I skimmed through the usual gossip about famous socialites until my eyes snagged on a specific paragraph. [Julian Blackwood, heir to the Blackwood empire, reportedly has zero tolerance for gold diggers. Rumor has it he once...] Sarah sent a screenshot of that exact section. Sarah: [Babe, is this true?] Me: [Idk? Probably fake news?] Sarah: [A lot of the other stuff in here is verified. Maybe you should test him?] I hesitated, switching back to the article to read the rest, when a hot, damp chest pressed against my back. "Babe, is your phone more interesting than me?" Guilty as charged, I swiped the page away instantly. "What?" Julian turned my head, gripping my chin. "Wearing this just to tease me, huh?" His voice pitched up at the end, dangerously seductive. I put on my best doe-eyed look. "I would never." My finger traced his jawline. "But... I'm desperate. My mother is in the hospital..." I closed my eyes, channeling my inner tragic heroine. "Mr. Blackwood, if you give me fifty thousand—no, ten thousand is fine—I'm yours tonight." He bit my earlobe. "Tonight, you entertain me." 2 Entertain him? I was the one who needed saving. I kicked him. "I'm tired." He caught my ankle and hooked it over his shoulder. "You rest, babe. I'll do the work." Rest my ass! By the end, I couldn't even lift my arms. Julian cuddled me, whispering sweet nothings until I was dozing off. He carried me to the sink to wash up. Through half-lidded eyes, I saw him kiss my forehead in the dim light, like I was something sacred. "I love you, babe." Maybe it was the roleplay earlier, or the article, but I mumbled, "If a woman got close to you for money, what would you do?" He was rummaging for a fresh nightgown. Without missing a beat, he said, "Make them disappear." I froze, sleep vanishing. "What?" He pulled the silk over my head. "Kill them." He kissed my lips, satisfied. "Okay, sleep now." He pressed my head to his chest and said goodnight. But I was wide awake. Crap. I was the woman who got close to him for money. Since when was he a murderer?! 3 I came from a broken home. Gambling addict dad, day-trading mom. I was an only child. They lived in their own worlds, barely noticing me. Luckily, when I was small, they were rich. A rich neglectful childhood isn't the worst thing. But in middle school, the market crashed, and dad's luck ran out. They sold everything. The house filled with screaming matches. I went from a princess to a pauper overnight. That poverty lasted until college. Not because they bounced back, but because one night, during a fight, a lit cigarette met a spilled bottle of vodka. The fire took them both. My terrible family turned to ash. They left me nothing but debt. Loan sharks, credit card debt—they had borrowed from everyone. After they missed payments, collectors blocked my dorm room door, threatening me. They doxxed me online. It was hell. I couldn't work; I couldn't make money. They pushed me to the edge. I was ready to end it. Then I looked in the mirror. Young. Beautiful. It was the only inheritance my parents left me. Aside from them, the world was beautiful. I wanted to live. At any cost. Truth be told, I got with Julian for the money. If he were broke, I wouldn't have looked twice. And now Julian says he hates gold diggers. He hates me. I peeked at him. He was asleep. I traced his face, inch by inch. "Julian..." His eyes snapped open. He grabbed my wrist. "Babe, thought you were tired? Still got energy?" He flipped me over. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Tired! Tired! I'm sleeping!" 4 Morning. I said goodbye to Julian and burrowed back into the blankets. He tucked me in, chuckling. "Lazybones." I threw a pillow at him. "You have the nerve? Who made me this tired?!" He was an energy vampire. It was 8 AM. I went to sleep at 3 AM! Why doesn't he reflect on his actions?! Julian kissed me. "My bad. Next time we'll start earlier." Me: ? Can we just cancel the event entirely? He knew he was pushing it, so he ruffled my hair and fled. I slept until noon. When I woke up, my phone was blowing up. I replied to Julian's "good morning" text first, then checked the rest. Sarah had sent a wall of text. [Did you test him?] [What did he say?] [Why aren't you replying?] [???] [Hello?] [Did the test turn into sex?] [Okay, confirmed. That's what happened.] [Whatever, reply when you wake up tomorrow.] [Actually, you might not wake up. Reply tomorrow afternoon.] Me: ... Speechless. I replied: [1] (Acknowledged). Sarah was probably still asleep. I rubbed my chin, thinking. I didn't really "test" him. I just asked. And Julian gave me an honest answer. He really hates gold diggers. I sighed. I'm screwed. If he finds out... I'm dead. For him, it's not a question of can he do it, but does he want to. And honestly... I felt guilty. If he didn't love me, it would be fine. A transaction. I provide emotional value, he provides cash. But Julian loved me. And I treated him like an ATM. What's the saying? Mixing sincerity with lies is like mixing chocolate with sh*t. If I were him, I'd hate me too. He'd destroy me. The more I thought about it, the colder I felt. I have to run. Run fast. Before he figures it out. I packed immediately. I kept the sentimental stuff, the specific gifts. But Julian gave me a lot. Random gifts, PR packages sent to him. I sorted through it all. I could sell a lot of this. I spent the day packing. When I was done, I clapped the dust off my hands and waited for Julian. 5 Feeling guilty, I went to the supermarket and bought a feast. I cooked a full meal. Julian walked in just as I was plating the sweet and sour ribs. He hugged me from behind. "Babe, you cooked?" I slapped his hand. "Wash up. Dinner time." He ignored me, turning my face for a kiss. I let him. I was compliant now. I wrapped my arms around his neck, panting. "Eat first." He nibbled my lip. "Don't want food. Want you." I didn't want to waste my effort. "I spent three hours on this. Eat!" He put me down obediently. We washed our hands together. He kissed my cheek. "Babe cooked for me. I'm the luckiest man alive." He was so easy to please. My guilt spiked.
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