Pay Off the Bill: My Clingy Billionaire

November in Empire City brought biting winds.

Rebecca Getty felt like she was about to freeze as she approached The Skyline Grand Hotel.

She glanced up at the top floor, bit her lip, and pushed through the revolving door.

Just a week ago, Rebecca was the daughter of the Getty family, a prominent name in Empire City.

Foreign fashion shows and high-end auctions were her playground, flying out with her elite friends and buying whatever caught her eye without hesitation.

Then, overnight, the Getty Group went bankrupt.

Her father, Henry Getty, passed away.

Her mother, Alexa Clark, was driven to the brink of madness by the shock.

Relatives who once relied on the Getty family turned their backs, acting as if they'd never had any connection.

Friends who once called her "dear" and "darling" now ignored her calls and blocked her.

The mansion, cars, bags, jewelry—all sold off, yet the Getty family's debt still stood at a staggering hundred million dollars.

In the blink of an eye, Rebecca transformed from a glamorous heiress to a beauty burdened with immense debt.

The Skyline Grand Hotel was owned by the Johnson family, and the VIP9999 presidential suite on the top floor was Dennis's private domain.

He and his friends often gathered there to drink and play cards.

Rebecca had been there many times over the years.

The Johnson and Getty families had been close for half a lifetime.

The adults were like family.

She and Dennis had grown up together and had been engaged for two years, waiting for her to turn twenty to get married.

But when she turned twenty, the Getty family fell apart.

Dennis... he should help her, right?

If he was willing to lend her the money, great.

If not... she'd find another way.

There's always a way.

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca stepped out of the elevator and walked straight to the suite at the end of the hallway.

She turned the door handle, and the door opened.

Rebecca let out a sigh of relief.

Dennis hadn't contacted her all week.

When she called friends for help, they took the opportunity to mock her, saying that if Dennis really cared, he'd have already stepped in to solve her problems, sparing her from begging.

Part of her believed Dennis was respecting her pride by not bringing it up.

Another part feared they were right.

Busy and overwhelmed, Rebecca hadn't had time to ponder Dennis's thoughts.

But now, the retained fingerprint access eased the tension in her heart.

The sound of cards and conversation filled the room, and Rebecca froze when she heard her name.

"Dennis, aren't you going to do anything about the Getty family? I heard Rebecca's been begging for help!"

"Let her beg..."

Dennis's voice was lazy and indifferent. "We hoped the Getty family would support the Johnson family, but they've declined year by year. My father regrets the engagement and was looking for a way to break it off. The Getty family's bankruptcy is perfect timing."

"Mr. Getty is dead, but Mrs. Getty is still alive. Aren't you worried they'll cling to you?"

"Cling to me?"

Dennis sneered. "You can't force a cow to drink water. If I refuse to marry, what can she do?"

"Can you really give up? Rebecca's face alone would outshine any model in Hollywood. In a few years, she'll be a stunner. Can you really turn your back on her?"

"Helping depends on the situation! If it were hundreds or thousands of dollars, sure, I'd help. But a hundred million dollar debt? You want to help, go ahead! I'm not doing it!"

"Mr. Johnson is certainly clear-headed!"

Laughter erupted, and Rebecca's heart plummeted into an icy abyss.

Sharp pain spread from her heart, and she bit her pale lip, turning and leaving the suite.

In the elevator, Rebecca pulled out her phone and sent a message to Dennis: [Let's break off the engagement! From now on, we have nothing to do with each other!]

Without waiting for a reply, she blocked and deleted all his contact information.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Rebecca walked out with her head down.

"Mr. Windsor..."

"...Watch out!"

A cool sandalwood scent.

A hard collision.

A cold presence like a blade pierced through, and Rebecca trembled, ignoring the pain in her forehead, instinctively stepping back.

She looked up, stunned.

The hallway lights were bright, and a man in a black coat was surrounded by a group, like the moon among stars.

The man was tall, his striking face shadowed by the backlight, making him appear particularly stern and cold.

Those around him, regardless of age, bowed slightly, showing extreme respect and fear.

"Mr. Windsor, are you alright?"

"How do you walk?"

"So young, yet your eyesight is poor..."

The group chattered, but fell silent under the man's cold gaze.

The elevator area went quiet.

Rebecca's temples throbbed, and she quickly glanced at the man, lowering her eyes. "Mr. Windsor, I'm... I'm sorry!"

"No problem."

His voice was cold and deep, his gaze sweeping over Rebecca's red eyes, dissipating the surrounding chill.

Rebecca lowered her head and hurried through the crowd.

Outside the hotel, she realized it was snowing. She stood at the entrance, looking dazed.

She had already asked all her friends and relatives for help.

Everything that could be sold had been liquidated.

Her best friend, Isabella Taylor, even sold her only mansion and a limited-edition car, raising thirty million dollars for her.

Who else could she turn to?

There must be a way.

There would be a way!

Clenching her teeth, Rebecca stepped into the falling snow.

...

The small figure ahead kept walking tirelessly.

In no time, her hair and shoulders were covered in snow.

The snowy road was slippery, and with each gust of wind, the figure wobbled, seemingly about to fall.

Yet she steadied herself and continued walking.

Even from behind, her helplessness and determination were palpable.

Mike Williams glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing the furious face, and hesitantly asked, "Mr. Windsor, should we... offer Ms. Getty a ride?"

The car's atmosphere instantly chilled.

Mike shrank his neck.

Seeing Frederick Windsor's grim expression, Mike knew he'd made a bad suggestion.

Mike racked his brain, finally speaking, "Ms. Getty has been seeking help for a week, but the Getty family still owes a hundred million dollars. If you intend to assist, why not..."

"Why not pay off the hundred million dollars?"

Frederick's cold voice interrupted.

Mike fell silent.

After a long wait, just as Mike thought he'd never get a response, Frederick spoke coldly, "Without a valid reason, how could I help? Besides... she's about to get married. Helping now would harm her."

Mike understood instantly.

In every way, the Johnson family should be the ones to help Rebecca.

If the Johnson family ignored her, and Frederick stepped in, it would create an unresolved tension when Rebecca married Dennis.

What a pity!

If not for her engagement to Dennis, Frederick's influence might have prevented the Getty family's bankruptcy.

Mike didn't know whether to lament the Johnson family's heartlessness or the twists of fate.

Driving slowly, Mike continued to search for a reason to get Rebecca into the car.

Suddenly, Mike's eyes lit up.

"Mr. Windsor..."

He braked sharply, his voice urgent, "Ms. Getty has fainted!"