My Billionaire Thinks I’m His Cat Not His Fiancée Chapter 03

My Billionaire Thinks I’m His Cat Not His Fiancée Chapter 03

But my days of wild, carefree chaos were starting to catch up with me.

Recently, Ethan had been off.

No more hugs. No more kisses. He’d set down the food bowls after cooking and walk away without a word.

And I kept catching him muttering in dark corners, radiating this thick, self-loathing despair.

When did it start?

Maybe it started that night when he picked me up, weighed me in his hands, and sadly asked why I wouldn’t put on weight. Then he started begging me to sleep with him, calling me his “good girl.”

But why would I sit up when I could just lie back and grind through the mission?

I squirmed out of his grip, suffocating against his chest.

He held me down, pressing frantic kisses to the top of my head.

Bed. Man. Woman. Hugs. Kisses.

All the ingredients were there. Except there wasn’t a hint of romance, because no sane person turns their partner’s hair into a tangled mess while trying to flirt.

But I thrashed and kicked, and soon enough, his expression changed.

He bolted for the bathroom, looking absolutely wrecked.

Just as I was reliving that memory, a cup of coffee, handed to me by the assistant—spilled across my thigh. The burn made me gasp, tears welling up in my eyes.

He said casually, “Sorry about that, Miss Lane. You really should be more careful.”

I knew this guy.

I’d overheard him in the break room, laughing with others, calling me a gold-digger who’d be dumped soon enough.

He must have assumed that since Ethan had been pulling away lately and I looked vulnerable, he could get away with it.

I stood up, teeth clenched. “Ethan!”

Every time I called his name, Ethan would appear like clockwork, bright-eyed and ready to fix everything for me.

But this time, no one answered. The office fell into dead silence, and my face burned.

The assistant snickered.

“Didn’t Mr. Sterling tell you?”

“He’s out with Miss Hart. Their families are discussing a merger.”

“She’s actual old money. Not like some people who get a little taste of luxury and think they’re going to marry into the elite.”

He sneered at me and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

The System came back to find me slumped on the sofa, dazed, my knee and thigh blotchy red and my white skirt stained brown.

It flickered in shock: [Host? What happened?]

I shook my head.

Before all this, I was just an orphan used to reading the room. But in just a few months, Ethan had spoiled me rotten.

I’d gotten used to him fixing my messes, to his indulgent gaze, to having someone in my corner—to the little utopia he’d built around me.

I’d even forgotten how to fight back.

[System, if I quit now, I only get ten grand, right?]

The System: [Yes, but if you finish, it’s a million.]

I stood up.

When I stepped out, the secretary pool was mostly empty.

They looked surprised to see me like this.

I just asked which desk belonged to that assistant.

Then I walked over.

There was a file and a cup of coffee on his desk.

I reached out, swept my arm across the desk, and let out a dry laugh as coffee splashed all over his seat and jacket.

Petty revenge sounds bad, but in Ethan’s head? Just a cat having a little fun.

The System: [Host. I found an item that can fix his disorder.]

[Do you want to use it?]