
Betray Me, Lose Everything
Ladys · Completed · 7.2k Words
Introduction
Cast out on a snowy night, publicly humiliated, her career destroyed… She licked her wounds in silence and dialed her family’s satellite phone.
When they met again, she was the largest shareholder of the Corporation. He was forced to bend his pride and call her “Auntie” in a trembling voice.
You took away all my dignity once. Now I make you too low to reach me.
Chapter 1
I heard that rich businessmen let their kids practice management skills by funding them to run teams in games before they join the company—that's why David Smith came to me before his official marriage.
As practice.
For those years, we tried every shameful sexual position imaginable—he made me shout his name in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, made me beg for mercy in the garage.
I thought it was just fun between us.
Later I found out he was just afraid of hurting his beloved Emily Johnson on their wedding night.
In the fourth year of our relationship, I carefully asked David if he could come home with me for the holidays to meet my parents.
He looked like he'd heard the funniest joke ever, casually flicking his cigarette ash, "Meet the parents? Bella, are you confused about something? I sleep with you to practice my skills. Did you actually think we were in a relationship?"
My whole body went cold.
David tossed me a bank card carelessly, "Be good, take the money and get lost. I'm getting engaged to Emily after the holidays. Don't let her know you exist—it's bad luck."
I held that card and smiled.
That night, I called home and agreed to that arranged marriage I'd been fighting against.
David didn't know that at his upcoming engagement party, he'd have to respectfully call me "Auntie."
Chapter 1
When David threw my suitcase out the door, he didn't even let me come in to pack my personal items.
"Don't come back. I changed the locks too," he frowned slightly, his voice cold, "Emily has a sensitive nose. If she smells another woman in here, she won't be happy."
It was snowing hard in New York that day, the cold wind cutting like knives across my face—I stood in my thin coat, looking at this "home" I'd lived in for four years, and at that face I'd loved for four years.
"David," my voice shook—I didn't know if from cold or pain, "These four years, didn't you feel anything at all for me..."
"Bella," he cut me off, his brow furrowing impatiently, "We're both adults. This was a transaction. Don't talk about feelings—it makes me look cheap."
With that, the door slammed shut in my face—then he turned to the housekeeper and said, "Burn all the sheets and covers she used. Replace them with the silk ones Emily likes—pink ones."
I dragged my suitcase through the snow, remembering how I once had a fever of 102 degrees in that house—what was David doing then?
He was searching the whole world for a rare breed cat for Emily.
I called him in my feverish haze, and he only said coldly, "If you're not dying, don't bother me. Emily's cat is missing and she's crying."
Turns out, love and lack of love really are that obvious—he could search the entire city for one of Emily's tears, but turned a blind eye to my bleeding.
Three days after the breakup, at 2 AM, my phone started vibrating like crazy—"David" flashed on the screen.
I didn't want to answer, but the call kept coming back after I hung up—more than ten times.
Maybe I was pathetic, maybe it was one last bit of hope—I answered.
"Bella! Bella..." David's voice was frantic, chaotic background noise, "Help me, please, get over here right now! The hillside villa, hurry! I'm dying."
I heard glass shattering on the other end, then the busy signal—my heart seized up.
In that moment, instinct crushed all reason—all I could picture was David in a car accident or having a medical emergency.
I didn't care that it was pouring rain outside—I threw on a coat and rushed out.
Couldn't get a cab late at night—I had to beg a private driver forever before he'd take me up the mountain.
After getting out, I stumbled toward the villa, rain blurring my vision—I didn't see the steps and fell hard onto the concrete.
Covered in mud and water, completely disheveled.
But I didn't care about the pain—I limped through the villa gates, pushed open the half-closed door, and shouted hoarsely, "David! Are you okay?"
My voice stopped dead.
The villa was brightly lit, heating on full blast—under the huge crystal chandelier, David sat on the leather sofa.
And in his lap sat Emily.
A circle of people surrounded them—David's buddies and Emily's friends.
Seeing me soaking wet, hair a mess, bursting in like a ghost, everyone went silent for a second—then they burst into laughter.
"David, you're amazing! She actually came!"
"Told you! This Bella is just David's dog—comes when called, leaves when told!"
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One Weekend with the Billionaire is a sexy story for mature readers.
Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother
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Delicate.
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Neither does the memory of Tyler. Leaving her here without a second thought.
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