I Ruined The Billionaire Now He Owns Me
The day my billionaire boyfriends empire crumbled, a voice in my headlets call it the Systemgave me a mission: dump him. Brutally.
So I left every diamond, every Birkin, every Cartier watch on the cold marble floor of our penthouse and told him, Youre broke. And I dont do broke.
He went on to claw his way back to the top with the kind of rabid fury only a man scorned can muster. I figured my story would end with him, newly powerful, grinding my life into dust as revenge. So you can imagine my surprise when I was suddenly abducted and woke up chained to a four-poster bed. This felt off-brand.
I frantically pinged the System. I thought all I had to do was dump Grant Donovan! What the hell is this?
The Systems reply was a digital sneer. Dump him? Who told you to leave with nothing but the clothes on your back?
You didnt just break his heart, you idiot. You became the ghost hes chasing. Youre his goddamn white whale!
1
It wasnt until I was bound to the System that I understood my place in the universe: I was the bitchy, money-hungry side character in a novel.
According to the script, my role was to be shallow and materialistic, to discard the hero, Grant, the moment his fortune vanished. Then, years later, once hed rebuilt his kingdom bigger and better than before, I was supposed to crawl back, begging for a second chance. My grand finale? Utter ruin and a tragic, lonely death.
This seems a little harsh, I murmured after downloading the plot summary.
The System, assuming I was heartbroken about ditching the man who was destined for greatness, tried to console me. Dont worry. The second you dump him, Ill deposit one hundred million dollars into an account for you. Way better than kissing his ass for pocket change.
I saw it had misunderstood. Thats not it, I said quietly. Its just I was the one who chased Grant. I pursued him. To just throw him away the second he loses his money it feels wrong.
The System went silent. For a long moment, there was nothing. Then, hesitantly: Youre the gold-digging girlfriend. You dont get a conscience.
Oh. I nodded, as if that made any sense at all.
My apparent compliance thrilled the System. Its voice buzzed with excitement. Okay, listen. When he gets home tonight, you need to humiliate him. Destroy him. I want to see him on his knees, begging you to stay.
It was practically vibrating with glee. And of course, no matter what he says, no matter how much he pleads, you will turn your back and walk out that door without a second glance.
I get it.
2
Two in the morning.
The heavy sound of the front door closing announced Grants return.
When I looked up, his gaze met mine for a split second before skittering away. His eyes were a roadmap of exhaustion, threaded with red. He hadnt slept in days. Of course he hadnt. His familys company had imploded, and as CEO, the weight of that failure was his alone to carry.
His Adams apple bobbed as he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words lost somewhere between his pride and his pain.
Now! This is the moment! The Systems voice was a feverish whisper in my mind. Slap him. Go completely ballistic and demand to know why hes home so late.
That doesnt feel right, I hesitated.
Grant had been through hell for days, working himself to the bone. Even if we were breaking up, he deserved a shred of dignity, not a shrew screaming in his face.
One hundred million dollars.
Okay, that was a pretty compelling counterargument.
I met Grants eyes, took a deep breath, and swung at his face with both hands.
Crack.
The sound echoed in the cavernous, silent apartment. The sight of his reddening cheek made my own eyes sting with tears. It was his face, but it was my heart that ached.
Wherewhere have you been? I tried to make my voice a furious roar, but it came out as a broken squeak. Dont you care about me anymore?
The second half of my line died in my throat. The look in his eyesa glacial, bottomless despairterrified me. If I wasnt so hopelessly attracted to him, I never would have been brave enough to chase after a man like Grant Donovan in the first place. Even when he was rich, he was intimidating.
Suddenly afraid he might hit me back, I threw myself forward, wrapping my arms around him in a desperate hug. My sobs were real now, my voice muffled against his chest. Do you have any idea how scared I was, being here all alone?
The System: ?
Ava, this is not in the script. Its voice was frantic. Youre supposed to be delivering your villain monologue. Youre supposed to be pushing him into his dark era!
I ignored it. The System tried again, its tone urgent. One. Hundred. Million.
Right. The script.
I pushed away from him, sniffing and wiping my eyes.
Before I could speak, his arms shot out, pulling me back against him. It wasnt a gentle embrace; it was the hug of a drowning man, fierce and possessive, as if he were trying to merge our bodies into one. His voice was a low, ragged whisper against my hair. Never.
The company there are some problems, he murmured, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead. But its nothing I cant handle.
He finally let me go and reached for a shopping bag hed left by the door.
The breakup line! Now, Ava, say it! The System screamed. One hundred million!
You told me once you loved this style of bag, Grant was saying, his voice strained with forced nonchalance. I saw they released a new color
We need to break up.
His hand, holding the expensive leather bag, froze in mid-air. He lifted his gaze, his eyes wide with disbelief. Why?
I met his bloodshot stare, my own heart a cold, heavy stone in my chest. You can stop pretending. I know youre bankrupt.
His breath hitched.
As he watched, paralyzed, I walked through our home. I opened velvet-lined drawers and glass display cases, pulling out every piece of jewelry, every designer handbag hed ever bought me. I piled them all in the center of the living room, a glittering mountain of our shared history.
The life you can give me now isnt the one I want.
Is this just because I lost my money? he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Yes.
With that single word hanging in the air, I grabbed the suitcase Id packed earlier and walked to the door.
All of this Grants voice called after me, choked with pain.
I dont want anything you gave me, I said, delivering the final, killing blow. Its all tainted now.
Ava! The System shrieked in my ear.
I braced myself for a lecture, but instead
You are, without a doubt, the most brilliant protg I have ever had!
3
To reward my stellar performance, the System immediately purchased a sprawling villa for me in the citys most exclusive gated community.
It was practically glowing with pride. Ive worked with a lot of hosts, Ava. So many. But you you follow directions perfectly. Youve earned this.
As a bonus, another ten million dollars appeared in my bank account.
The System materialized a digital clipboard. Okay, phase two. Our objective now is to completely crush any lingering hope he has, forcing him to channel all that despair into his career.
The second half of that sentence sent a chill down my spine. Wait, this mission isnt over?
Nope. The System sighed, a surprisingly human sound. Who knew the great Grant Donovan was such a romantic? Its pathetic.
But its mood brightened instantly. The little orb of light that represented it bounced in the air, its praise effusive. Then again, my host is a certified goddess. Its only natural the male lead would be obsessed.
It continued to flatter me, but I barely heard it. I took a bite of a crisp apple, my mind elsewhere. Grant Donovan was a lot of things, but a romantic fool wasn't one of them.
I remembered the time Id been kidnappeda botched ransom attempt. Grant had listened to the kidnappers threats with chilling indifference. If a couple of undercover cops hadnt stumbled upon the scene, I would have been a headline.
He was only with me because Id been relentless. He was a man who operated on logic and power, not love. Any lingering feelings he had for me now werent love; they were just the bruised ego of an alpha male who couldnt stand being the one who was left. He didnt love me.
But so what?
My new goal was to become the one that got away. The perfect, tragic memory that would ache in his chest like a phantom limb for the rest of his life.
4
According to the System, Grants next public appearance would be at a high-profile charity gala.
He would be a ghost at the feast. Bankrupt and stripped of his power, hed be an object of pity and scorn. His former business rivals would circle like sharks, eager to humiliate him.
My job was to be the shark with the biggest teeth.
I embraced the role with gusto. As a reward for my enthusiasm, the System dropped another fifty million on jewelry for me to wear to the event.
I wept with gratitude. System, youre too good to me.
Its reply was pure bravado. My host will be the most dazzling woman in the room. No exceptions.
5
The System must have had absolute faith in me, because it went ahead and altered the memories of the events host, making me the woman who had once saved her life.
This little bit of neuro-hacking landed me in a private second-floor box with a perfect birds-eye view of the ballroom below. It wasnt long before a commotion near the entrance caught my attention.
Showtime, Ava! Hes here! The System sounded more nervous than I was.
I leaned forward, listening to the sneering voices float up from below.
Has the standard for this gala dropped so low? Theyre letting just about anyone in off the street now, arent they?
Seriously. The guy is bankrupt, but he shows up to a charity event to pretend he still matters? I bet he cant even afford a glass of champagne.
A wave of cruel laughter followed.
Thats your cue, Ava! Time to make your entrance!
The script called for me to descend the grand staircase and deliver a verbal coup de grace, humiliating Grant so thoroughly that hed never be able to show his face in this town again.
I stepped out of the box and saw him cornered by a group of men at the base of the stairs. I recognized the man leading the pack: Leo Wyatt. Back when Grant was on top, Leo was a world-class sycophant, constantly trying to curry favor for a business deal. Now that Grant had fallen, he was the first one there to kick him.
Leo sneered, blocking Grants path. Well, well. If it isnt the great Grant Donovan, fallen all the way to the janitorial staff. How does it feel, buddy?
His smug gaze swept the area and landed on me. His eyes widened in mock surprise. Oh, look! Avas here too. Did you also come to polish the silver?
I just stared at him.
For a supposed villain, he was an idiot. A moron so blinded by his own arrogance that he couldnt recognize the millions of dollars worth of diamonds sparkling around my neck. He was destined to be a footnote in someone elses story.
Grants head snapped up. He hadnt expected to see me. His pupils contracted, a flicker of raw emotion crossing his face before he caught sight of my gown, my jewels. The flicker died, his expression shuttering as he looked away.
I started down the stairs, my heels clicking softly on the marble. Your breath stinks, Leo. Are you trying to get thrown out again?
Leos face flushed. He had a notorious habit of crashing high-end events he wasnt invited to, often by bribing security or literally climbing over walls, only to be unceremoniously ejected. It was a sore spot.
Listen to you, Ava, he spat, his voice dripping with venom. Youre just an orphan. Without Grant Donovan bankrolling you, youre nothing. Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?
The charity gala wasnt the most exclusive event, so the crowd around Leo was mostly his usual gang of hangers-on.
One of them stepped forward, puffing out his chest. Yeah, an orphan defending a janitor. Do you know who I am? I could have both of you thrown out on the street with one word.
I dont care who you are, I said, spotting a flash of crimson across the ballroom. I raised my voice. Sloane! Hes being mean to me!
6
Thats right. I was now an adopted daughter of the Sinclair family.
A heartfelt thank you to the System for rewriting the memories of Sloane Sinclair, the heiress to the Sinclair fortune, transforming me from a nobody into her beloved little sister.
Hearing the commotion, Sloane made her way over, her brow furrowed in annoyance. Whats going on here?
The guy who had just threatened me immediately started tattling. Cousin, these two are crashing your party. They were being incredibly rude to me.
Did I ask you? Sloane shot him a look so cold it could freeze fire. Her gaze swept over Leo Wyatt, and her frown deepened. And havent I told you to stop associating with trash like this?
Ms. Sinclair, you misunderstand, Leo stammered, thinking she was talking about me and Grant. Arthur isnt with them.
I was talking about you, Sloane said flatly.
The color drained from Leos face.
Sloane turned to her assistant. The Sinclair family may not be royalty, but that doesnt mean we allow any stray dog to wander into our home.
But cousin, hes not Arthur protested, desperate.
Im not your cousin, Sloane cut him off, drawing a clear line in the sand. Were not that close. If you cant respect my wishes, then you will address me as Ms. Sinclair.
Then what about her? Arthur pointed an accusing finger at me. She just called you her sister.
Oh. Sloane glanced at me, and I offered a small, apologetic smile. A corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes softening with genuine affection. Thats because she is.
Arthur looked like hed been slapped.
Tonights gala was a Sinclair event, and Sloane was too busy playing host to linger. Before she left, she leaned in close to me. Next time some nobody with a big mouth tries to bully you, get his name. Ill deal with him later.
A shiver went down Leo Wyatts spine.
As he tried to slip away unnoticed, Sloanes assistant stepped in front of him, his smile polite but firm. Mr. Wyatt, hello. Id just like to inspect your invitation.
Leo looked horrified. Are you accusing me of sneaking in?
The assistant just nodded honestly.
7
Sloane gave me a few more instructions before she was swept back into the crowd.
The stage that was set for a grand, dramatic humiliation was now empty, save for two people: me and Grant. The System buzzed around my head, its confusion palpable. It was running diagnostics, trying to figure out where the script had gone so wrong.
It knew something was off, but it couldnt put its finger on it. Host, it prompted uncertainly, arent you supposed to be you know humiliating the male lead?
Even though our audience was gone, the scene still had to be played. The mission was to make him give up on me completely.
But before I could say a word, Grant spoke first, his voice low. Im not a janitor.
Did he really see me as that shallow?
Okay, fine. I was.
Leaning into the role, I looked him up and down with disdain. What is someone like you even doing here?
Whoa, host! Youre amazing! The Systems confusion instantly vanished, replaced by a flurry of pink, heart-shaped bubbles.
I gave an imperceptible wave, a silent command for it to be cool.
Then I reached into my clutch, pulled out the bank card Id prepared, and held it out to him.
Grant didn't take it.
Host, why are you giving him money? The Systems confusion returned. It felt like its circuits were about to fry. Giving him money will just make him even more attached to you!
This is a power move, I sent back calmly. Its a form of humiliation. Youre a System. You wouldnt get it.
Oh, I see! It nodded, not seeing at all.
Grants gaze dropped to the black card in my hand, then slowly traveled up to my face. Ava, are you looking down on me? In your eyes, am I really so pathetic that I need your charity?
8
The raw aggression in Grants voice was so intense that the System, floating in the air beside me, flinched and ducked behind my shoulder.
No, I said softly. In my heart, youve always been invincible.
In this context, the words sounded like a mockery. If he were truly invincible, his company wouldnt have gone under. I wouldnt have left him.
He opened his mouth to say something, but he heard my next words, spoken so quietly they were almost lost in the ballroom's distant murmur.
It was a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear.
I just wanted to help you.
His breath caught.
Ifand this is just a hypothetical, he began, taking a deep, fortifying breath as if bracing for a blow. If I made all my money back would you come back to me?
See? Men are all the same. When I was throwing myself at him, he acted like he couldnt care less. Now that Ive walked away, hes full of regret.
But as the woman who was determined to become his eternal, untouchable memory, I couldnt just say what I was thinking.
Out of his line of sight, I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp pain bringing tears to my eyes. No, I whispered.
I bit my lip, hesitating as if I wanted to say more. The truth is, I
But then I stopped, my expression falling as if remembering a terrible truth. My voice dropped, heavy with sorrow.
A gold digger like me could never deserve you.
9
Grant didnt take the bank card.
I was back in my eight-thousand-square-foot villa, sobbing my heart out.
System, do you think he really doesnt love me anymore?
Host, try not to think about it like that. You may have lost the man, but you gained a fortune! The System frantically searched its database for comforting phrases.
I subtly angled the tablet on my lap so it would be in the Systems line of sight. The open web page was an article titled: How to Comfort a Grieving Woman.
The most prominent suggestion, in a large, bold font, was: THROW MONEY AT THE PROBLEM.
The System pondered this for a moment. Host, I know money cant buy happiness, but its all I have.
Ten million has been transferred to your account.
I dont want money, I wailed, turning my head away dramatically. I just want love!
Fifty million.
Grant may be gone, but its okay. My voice was filled with newfound, albeit shaky, resolve. Ill pull myself together. Ill start sponsoring a whole stable of male models.
The System breathed a sigh of relief, glad to see I was finally moving on from my pity party. It floated closer and saw I was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.
When it focused on the words, it let out a digital shriek. Host, you have cancer?!
It immediately scanned my entire body. That cant be right. My diagnostics are clean. Is my programming bugged?
I finished writing the last sentence and looked up. Can you forge a terminal diagnosis for me?
Host, what do you need that for?
To become the beautiful, tragic memory he can never touch, of course.
Im powerless now, I said sadly. If Grant holds a grudge and decides to come after me for revenge later, no amount of money will save me.
This part was true. According to the standard tropes of his genre, the hero always returns to crush those who wronged him. As the girlfriend who dumped him the second he went broke, I was first in line for the reckoning.
But thats why I arranged for the Sinclairs to take you in, the System said, confused. Youre actually their long-lost daughter. The real heiress.
Huh?
I was floored.
10
Unbelievable. This was so ridiculously clich.
So, Sloane Sinclair is my actual sister?
Yep. The System nodded. You think just any orphan gets to date the male lead?
That was a surprisingly harsh way to put it.
But, seeing as it had given me over a hundred million dollars, I decided to forgive its bluntness.
As the chosen one of this world, everyone in Grants orbit, man or woman, has an extraordinary background. Especially his girlfriend.
And here I thought I was just some poor girl who got lucky.
My mind immediately jumped to the practical implications. Does this mean I get a piece of the Sinclair inheritance? Even a small percentage would be life-changing.
Oh, youll get it, the System confirmed. Youll inherit the Sinclair Corporations massive, nine-figure debt, and then youll be hunted down by creditors and brutally murdered.
Can I politely decline my birthright? I asked weakly.
No. The Systems refusal was polite but firm. Its part of the mission. According to the script, as you lie dying, you will see Grant one last time. You will confess your regrets, prompting him to deliver his iconic line.
What line?
Never underestimate a man with nothing to lose.
Hold on. Grant was never the "underdog." Even after his company went bankrupt, he still had all those assets I left behindthe jewelry, the bags. That alone was worth tens of millions. He wasn't poor. I was.
I felt tears of despair welling up. Before mailing the bank card to Grant, I added one last, handwritten note.
If I hadnt gotten sick, I think we would be married by now.
My biggest regret is that I couldnt be by your side when you needed me most.
If theres a next life, I hope I can find you again.
It was my last-ditch effort to save my own skin.
After the courier picked up the package, I felt a sense of calm resignation. The System, seeing my stoic acceptance of fate, made a suggestion. Host, it will take the male lead three years to reach the pinnacle of his power. Why dont we take a nice, long vacation in the meantime?
Im not in the mood. I stared out the window at a forty-five-degree angle, letting a single, perfect tear trace a path down my cheek. Nothing interests me anymore.
Host, dont give up, it said, trying to cheer me up. Once the mission is complete, you can fake your death and escape!
But Ive lost the only man Ill ever love, I whispered. All I want now is to be alone, to find some peace. I heard theres a private island up for auction soon
Ill buy it for you! the System declared, seizing the opportunity. Host, will that make you feel a little better?
I nodded, my expression a mask of beautiful sorrow.
Perhaps. A little.
11
I have no idea what kind of budget the universe allocated to the System, but over the next year, I managed to swindleI mean, receiveseveral hundred million dollars from it, far exceeding the original one-hundred-million-dollar reward.
The System often felt like something was off, but it could never quite figure out what. It eventually concluded that it was just being overly sensitive.
I was lounging on a beach chair, sunglasses on, lazily watching the seagulls glide over the turquoise water. Life was so peaceful, so idyllic, that it took me a moment to realize one of the seagulls was getting progressively larger and louder, its cry sounding suspiciously like rotor blades.
As a helicopter descended onto my private beach, the System also registered the anomaly.
Im sensing a powerful alpha presence, it noted with awe.
Whats happening?
As far as I knew, the only people who knew the location of this island were Sloane and my estranged biological father, and that man couldnt care less about me. Was Sloane visiting?
I watched the helicopter warily. A second later, the System screamed.
RUN, AVA! ITS THE MALE LEAD!
Oh, crap.
The plan was three years! How did Grant find me after only one? Id mapped it all out: in the final year, Id fake a relapse, looking pale and fragile. Grant would find me on my "deathbed," and his heart would fill with pity, not rage.
Not like this. Not with me lounging on a private beach, sipping a pi?a colada and looking like a bronzed goddess of leisure.
Even a blind man could see Id been playing him.
I am so screwed.
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