My Ex Betrayed The Wrong Billionaire

She asked me once, her head resting on my chest in the quiet of our shared apartment, If you ever made it big, Luke, would you leave me?

Never, I said.

And for the next six years, I kept that promise. Through every failed audition, every soul-crushing rejection, every moment she was ready to give up, I was there.

Then, she was the one who made it big.

At the Lumina Awards, the industry's golden night, she stood on stage, tears welling in her mascara-lined eyes, ready to announce the love of her life to the world.

The spotlight swept past me, landing instead on the kid Id taken under my wing.

He stood beside Sienna, his own eyes glistening. "Luke, man," he said, his voice thick with emotion for the cameras. "Thank you for taking care of her all these years. But love and gratitude are two different things. You can't hold her hostage with kindness."

Siennas gaze found mine, and it was as cold as steel. "I transferred a hundred thousand dollars to your account," she mouthed silently, a final, brutal transaction. "We're even."

Six years of my life, reduced to a wire transfer.

As the internet exploded with headlines branding me the obsessive "other man," I made a single phone call.

"Pull every film Sienna Croft has ever been in from every platform. Effective immediately."

You see, Sienna, you weren't the only one who made it big.

And in that moment, I knew I'd made a mistake all those years ago. If I had been the one to hit the big time first, I would have left you without a second thought.

1

After the awards show, in the sterile quiet of our now-fractured home, Sienna tried to soften the blow.

Im grateful for the six years we had, Luke. For weathering the storm together, shed said, avoiding my eyes. But you cant force love. I knew it was over the day you brought Evan home.

She offered a final, hollow olive branch. We can still be friends, though.

But by the next morning, friendship was the furthest thing from her mind. A coordinated smear campaign erupted online. The six years Id spent supporting her were twisted into a narrative of coercion and emotional blackmail.

Sienna went on a morning talk show, her face a mask of practiced sorrow. "When he first told me how he felt," she said, dabbing a tear, "I never planned on saying yes. But he used Evans situation against me. For six years, I had to do what he said. Taking bad scripts, doing those terrible reality shows Im so sorry I gave my fans such a poor experience."

Six years had honed her acting skills to a razors edge. She bowed her head, and a single, perfect tear hit the floor.

And there he was, right beside her, the boy Id mentored, his own eyes red-rimmed. "Sienna and I were terrified of what hed do," Evan said, his voice trembling. "We never dared to even see each other alone. I never dreamed wed be able to stand here together, in the light. Thank you all for your support."

Perhaps as a final pang of guilt, Sienna had another hundred thousand dollars wired to my account.

I had to laugh. It was a bitter, hollow sound. The resources Id leveraged for her, the deals Id brokered from the shadowsthe commission alone on any one of them dwarfed this pathetic sum.

I didnt say a word. This was a job for my PR team.

The team I had secretly built over the years, a crack unit designed for the sole purpose of protecting Sienna Croft from negative press, was now about to be turned on its original subject.

But when I called my department head, his voice was clipped and unfamiliar.

"Luke, the entire department is resigning. The letters are on your desk. Sorry, but we won't be working for you anymore."

The line went dead before I could respond.

I scrambled to call the others. Each call went straight to voicemail. They'd all blocked me. The entire department, the one Id built from the ground up to serve her, had abandoned me.

A quick search confirmed my suspicion. They had all been hired by a new boutique agency, a joint venture co-owned by Sienna Croft and Evan Ross.

I shrugged, a gesture that felt heavier than it should. They had no idea what theyd just thrown away.

I started calling the major PR firms I had on retainer. But something was wrong. The same agency heads who had called me "Luke, my man" for years were now rejecting my calls.

One of them, a guy Id considered a friend, finally picked up. His tone was cautious.

"Listen, Luke, Im telling you this as a friend. Your ex shes been hand-picked by a major player. Someone with serious backing. Shes untouchable right now." He sighed. "She wants to make her new boyfriend a star, and you getting in the way is bad for his image. Take the money and walk away. You dont want to go up against the person behind her."

The person behind her?

A cold smile touched my lips. Who could possibly have more power than me?

For six years, I had moved mountains for her, all from the shadows. She never knew the extent of my influence, the true nature of my work. It was all because of that one damn question shed asked. I was afraid that if she knew who I really was, shed feel insecure, that our relationship would be built on an imbalance of power. So I played the part of a small-time manager, carefully lifting her up so that one day, she could stand beside me as an equal.

Just as I was about to call my real team, my right-hand man, the hospitals number flashed on my screen. I answered, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach.

"Mr. Walker? Your father his room has been surrounded by a mob of radical fans! You need to get here now!"

2

"That's the bastard's mom! And if the son is harassing our queen and trying to tear down our king, you can bet the father is just as scummy! Don't let him get away!"

By the time I arrived, the entire hospital corridor was a chaotic sea of screaming fans, their phone cameras held high like weapons. Hospital security was completely overwhelmed.

My bodyguards and I forced a path through the throng. Inside the room, I found my father, huddled in a corner, his face bloodied.

"The bastard's here! Get him!"

"We've been shipping Sienna and Evan for three years, asshole! Who the hell are you to get in their way?"

A phone was hurled at my head. My father, despite his injuries, lunged to shield me. The sound of sirens finally pierced the chaos.

"Police! Everybody drop what you're holding!"

The mobs makeshift weapons clattered to the floor. My father was rushed into emergency care. Seething, I pulled out my phone and dialed Sienna.

"It was you," I snarled, my voice raw with fury. "You told them where my dad was. Only you and I knew which hospital he was in."

There was a pause on the other end. When she finally spoke, her voice was cool and detached. "Fans can be resourceful, Luke. They dox people all the time. I know you're upset about your father, but you can't just throw baseless accusations around."

She hung up.

But she had forgotten something. I still had the password to her private social media accounts.

I logged into her official fan Discord server. And there it was, in a private channel for her most dedicated "stans": a message from her, posting my fathers location and medical information. My hands started to shake. My dad had treated her like his own daughter. After her parents passed, hed always set a place for her at our dinner table.

Before I could screenshot the evidence, the system logged me out. A notification popped up: "Password has been changed." She knew.

My anger was choked by a wave of panic. My father's doctor appeared, his face grim.

"He's older, Mr. Walker. The assault caused severe internal bleeding. We need to transfer him to a specialized trauma center immediately."

"Then transfer him!" I yelled, my voice cracking.

The doctor hesitated. "Mr. Walker the funds from your account won't clear."

I froze. My father's medical expenses were tied to my personal black card. The account held, at a minimum, nine figures. How could there be no money?

It took a dozen frantic calls before a friend at the IRS gave me the news.

"Someone tipped us off, Luke. An anonymous report with some very convincing-looking documents suggesting money laundering. All your domestic accounts have been frozen pending a full investigation. Don't worry, if it's clean, they'll unfreeze everything eventually."

The floor dropped out from under me. I felt like I was plunging into ice water.

3

My friend didn't say who reported me, but I knew. Only one person could have fabricated evidence that convincing. The person who had shared my life for the past six years.

I hadn't done it. The authorities would eventually clear my name. But the investigation could take weeks, months. The delay was a death sentence for my father.

And then, the knockout blow. The news of the investigation broke online.

Sienna was immediately in front of a camera, her eyes artfully red-rimmed. "He could be very controlling," she said, her voice catching. "He did some terrible things to me and Evan. But he did help us in the past. I I never thought Mr. Walker was this kind of person."

Evan stood beside her, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. "Was it because of me?" he whispered to the reporter. "Because Sienna and I fell in love? Did we push him over the edge? If I'd never fallen for her, maybe none of this would have happened."

Sienna squeezed his hand tightly. "No, Evan. It's not your fault."

A photo of her clutching his hand went viral, catapulting to the top of every trending list. A high-resolution shot of Evan's "perfect tear" became a meme celebrating their tragic, beautiful love.

And I became the villain who tried to tear them apart.

You two have to stay together forever! Show that monster Luke Walker what real love is!

I'm literally crying. My ship is finally sailing!

My choice was simple. Cooperate with the investigation and let my father die, or

My fists clenched. Or become the criminal they accused me of being.

4

I discarded the thought as quickly as it came. There had to be another way. I immediately initiated an emergency funding request.

But the platforms that usually approved my requests in seconds were now rejecting me outright. I didn't give up, assuming my name was temporarily toxic due to the money laundering allegations. I tried using a trusted friend's credentials.

The result was the same.

Desperate, I called a contact at one of the firms, someone whose career Id helped build. He spoke in a hushed, nervous whisper.

"Luke, stop trying. Ms. Croft put the word out to the entire financial community. A total blackout. Anyone who provides you with capital is blacklisted. Shes got Mr. Morrison behind her, and nobody is willing to cross him."

He hung up and blocked my number.

I couldn't believe Sienna could be so ruthless. She had already used me to launch Evan's career. Now she was systematically sealing every possible escape route.

My eyes fell on the bank card shed given me. The two hundred thousand dollars. I had sworn I would never touch her pity money. But now my pride was a luxury I couldn't afford. My fathers life depended on it.

I handed the card to the hospital administrator. She ran it.

The machine beeped. "Insufficient funds."

"Mr. Walker," she said, looking uncomfortable. "It appears Ms. Croft contacted the bank and had the transfer reversed as soon as she heard about your legal troubles."

I nearly collapsed. A nurse had to grab my arm to steady me.

My hands trembled. First, the false accusation. Then, clawing back the money meant to buy her a clear conscience. And while I was trapped in this bureaucratic nightmare, she and Evan were basking in the publics sympathy, their careers soaring.

I finally understood. She wasnt just pushing me out of the way. She was building Evans throne on top of my grave.

I called her. She let it ring a dozen times before answering. After a long silence, she sighed.

"You helped him once, Luke. You couldnt stand to see him suffer. I cant stand seeing him as just some nobody in this town. The day you brought him home, bleeding and scared, I knew there was no future for us."

The phone felt like it was about to shatter in my grip.

Her voice was calm, almost matter-of-fact. "I admit, I used you. I'll cover your father's transfer fees."

The call ended. A moment later, a notification confirmed the deposit. At this critical juncture, I had no choice but to swallow my pride and accept.

But as soon as this is over, Sienna, I swear, you will pay for this.

4 (Continued)

My father was stabilized, but it was a temporary fix. His ongoing treatment would cost a fortune. To make matters worse, the fan who had assaulted him was defiant, choosing jail time over paying any compensation. My accounts were still frozen.

My friends pooled their money and covered a fraction of the bill, a gesture that touched me deeply but barely made a dent. The hospital administrator delivered the grim news: if I couldn't secure more funding soon, my father would be moved to a standard ward.

I sat slumped against the wall in the hallway, the rhythmic beeping of my fathers heart monitor a steady drumbeat of my own failure. Hope was a distant memory.

"I hear you're in need of some capital, Mr. Walker."

A group of men in sharp, ill-fitting suits stood over me.

"We can offer you a loan," the leader said with a slick smile. "But first we need to see how serious you are."

5

He showed me their company's website on a tablet. It wasn't a legitimate financial institution. This was the underworld of lending, a place of exorbitant interest rates and broken kneecaps.

Loan sharks.

But I had no other choice. As soon as my accounts were unfrozen, I could pay back any loan, no matter how predatory the terms.

"Where's the contract?" I said, holding out my hand. "I'll sign. Anything under fifty percent interest is fine."

They laughed. "Slow down, Mr. Walker. We can offer you an interest-free loan."

I stared at him, confused.

"All we require," the man said, his smile turning predatory, "is some collateral. Something personal." He slid the tablet over. It was a contract for what amounted to a sex-for-loan agreement, demanding compromising photos and videos.

"I'll take the high-interest loan," I said, my voice low and hard.

"Sorry," he shrugged, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Ms. Croft's instructions were specific. This is the only deal on the table for you."

My eyes widened. Sienna. Again.

Why was she pushing me this far? What kind of sick game was this?

The contract was placed in my hands. The choice was clear: sign away my dignity and save my father, or watch him die.

I couldn't do it. With a roar of fury, I ripped the contract to shreds.

"Bad move," the man sneered, brushing a piece of paper off his suit. "We're the only ones willing to lend to you. You'll be back."

A wave of hot rage washed over me. I stumbled to the restroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to clear my head. When I walked back out, my blood ran cold.

Nurses were forcibly removing my father from his bed, wheeling him out into the hallway on a gurney.

I rushed to stop them.

"His account is empty," one of them said, shoving me aside. "This equipment costs ten grand a day, and we have paying patients who need the room. This is a private hospital, Mr. Walker. We're not a charity."

"No!"

They dumped my father onto a cot in the busy corridor and left him there. I scrambled to his side, cradling his head in my arms.

"Ms. Croft said the offer still stands," one of the nurses called over her shoulder with a contemptuous smile. "You can still think about it."

"What did he do to piss off someone like her?" another nurse whispered loudly.

"Who knows? But everyone knows who she's with now. This guy clearly doesn't know his place."

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