He dumped me for “class difference,” moved his new girl into my apartment, and told everyone I wasn’t worth a $30,000 handbag. But he doesn’t know the lottery numbers he bragged about aren’t the winning draw, and the luxury brand he worships considers me one of their top clients. If he wants a war of status—fine. I’ll show him what real money looks like. 1 “Let’s break up, Keira Westbrook! I just won $20 million in the lottery.” Julian Collins stood in front of me, his expression smug as he spoke those words. “All because of that?” I asked, looking up at him. “Of course! You’ve probably never even seen that much money, have you? My mom says there are different classes of people. Now that we’ve made it to the top, you and I aren’t on the same level anymore.” I couldn’t help but laugh. $20 million, and they think they’re part of high society? I didn’t even have time to tell him that my dad owns several buildings that rake in more than $20 million in rent every year, not to mention his companies. But it’s fine. Honestly, I was glad to get rid of someone like him. Better to cut ties early. No tears over love, only sleepless nights thinking about money! Julian glanced at me. “By the way, even though you paid for the $50 lottery ticket, I’m the one who bought it. So don’t expect a penny from me.” He’d always had this habit of buying lottery tickets, dreaming of getting rich overnight. But when it came time to pay, he’d always have an excuse—his phone was dead, or his payment wasn’t working. Right, because the bank really cares about a few bucks, right? “My mom doesn’t like you either,” Julian added. “She thinks you’re too tacky. Remember last time you met her? All you gave her were some cheap, no-name gifts. You embarrassed us.” I shot back, “God must’ve spilled wisdom all over the world, but your family held up an umbrella!” I still remember the first time I met his mom. I gave her a pure wool scarf designed by an Italian luxury designer, worth five figures, and a bottle of French court perfume. Now it’s apparently a ‘cheap, no-name gift’ to them. Like a catfish splashing water, suddenly thinking it’s seafood. He continued, “I won’t argue with you because I’m an elite. But since we’re breaking up, let’s settle things. Why don’t you sell back the gifts I gave you?” Typical Julian. Even winning the lottery doesn’t change his stinginess. “No need! I still have all the stuff you gave me! I’ll return every bit of it.” “Your $9.99 skincare set? I was too scared to use it, in case it ruined my skin! “That $19.99 shirt and tie set? I didn’t want to wear it in case I broke out in hives! “And that $10 box of bread? I was worried it’d make me sick, and even the medical bills wouldn’t cover it!” The crowd around us burst into laughter. Julian’s face turned red as he snapped back, “Don’t just bring that up! What about all the money I gave you? Didn’t I send you cash on holidays?” “Sure did.” I nodded, pulling out my phone to check the records. Valentine’s Day: $5.20, Fourth of July: $6.60, Christmas: $8.80… “You’re so thoughtful. So generous!” I laughed. Even my cousin in elementary school gives me more than that. I used to think he was so sweet and attentive that I didn’t care about the little things. But now? Looking back, I must’ve had water on the brain. Enough to fill the entire Lake Michigan! Julian puffed out his chest. “That was the past! Things are different now. I’ve won $20 million! I can buy whatever I want, and you no longer deserve to be with me!” I nodded. “Alright then. In that case, why don’t you return the gifts I gave you?” Julian laughed. “The stuff you gave me? It’s all knockoffs, isn’t it? How much could it be worth?” Julian grew up poor. His dad passed away early, and he and his mom depended on each other. To protect his fragile ego, I always cut the tags off the gifts I gave him, and they didn’t have any flashy logos. “That belt you’re wearing? Gucci, limited edition. $10,000. “Those shoes? C-brand, $15,000. “That jacket? Also C-brand, $30,000.” I listed them off, one by one. Julian’s face fell. “You think I’m an idiot? You couldn’t afford the real thing. You must’ve just bought some knockoffs to fool me!” Right, because he couldn’t tell real from fake. I pulled out my phone. “Here’s the purJulian history and receipts. If you don’t believe me, go check with the store.” “And the scarf and perfume I gave your mom? They weren’t any cheaper than the stuff I gave you. But I’ll let that go. Just give me $100,000 for everything else I’ve gifted you.” In reality, I’d spent over $200,000 on him over the years. But if he gave me $200,000, his mom would probably make my life a nightmare. Julian gritted his teeth. “Who knows if what you gave me was real or fake? Let’s call it $50,000. I’ll give you $10,000 now and the rest once I cash in the lottery.” Fine by me. Even though it’s a drop in the bucket compared to my bank balance, who says no to more money? 2 After receiving the $10,000 in my account, I stood up and said to Julian, “Thanks, Julian. That’s the first time you’ve been so generous!” He looked pained but still spat back, “Good. Don’t ever come looking for me again, loser! “And don’t ever try to contact me. I’m afraid your bad luck will mess up my fortune.” I nodded vigorously, making sure he saw me agree. After Julian left, I told my driver to bring my Bentley around from the garage. I’m done pretending. That night, Julian posted on Instagram. There were two photos: one of the lottery ticket, and another of him taking a selfie at the Maserati dealership. The caption read: “Just focus on two things: working hard and loving yourself. Luck will follow you if you smile enough. ��” I almost gagged on my dinner. As I was about to delete him, something about that lottery ticket caught my eye. The numbers weren’t fully shown, but the draw number was clear: 38
But… the winning numbers for draw 381 didn’t match those! I quickly looked up the results online and realized Julian had mistaken the previous draw’s numbers as the winning ones for his ticket. He probably watched a replay or looked at the wrong draw number, thinking he’d won $20 million! This was about to get interesting. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he learned the truth. 3 Midway through work, I was sneaking a break when I overheard Brianna Moore, the office gold digger, bragging to a coworker. “My boyfriend just moved into Ridgewood Heights.” I froze. What a coincidence. My dad had bought me a place there too, though I rarely stayed. Since Julian worked nearby, I’d given him a key to use the place when he worked late. I told him it was rented. He moved in without a second thought, never considering the rent probably cost more than his monthly salary. I was just thinking about taking back the keys when Brianna said, “He calls me his lucky girl. Ever since we got together, he won $20 million!” Everyone around her gasped with envy. Wait. Ridgewood Heights? $20 million? Could it really be…? I hesitantly asked, “Does your boyfriend happen to be named Julian?” Brianna shot me a wary look. “You know him? Don’t even think about trying to steal him just because he’s rich. He’s way out of your league!” Of course, it was him! Julian had been seeing Brianna while we were still together? Did he really think Brianna was upper-class material? If my dad knew about this, he’d die laughing. Brianna always flaunted fake designer bags, rotating them every day of the week. In Julian’s eyes, someone who couldn’t even tell real from fake, Brianna must’ve looked like a wealthy princess. Talk about a match made in heaven! Two gold diggers, perfect for each other! Best wishes. Please stay together forever. That night, Brianna posted on Instagram, a photo of her and Julian with the caption: “No more waiting. The one I’ve been waiting for is here.” Five minutes later, Julian posted their picture too, with the cringy caption: “Us.” 4 The manager of my favorite luxury store texted me, saying they’d just gotten new stock and invited me to check it out. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to swing by. As soon as I walked in, there they were: Julian and Brianna. There was only one sales associate in the store. She glanced at me and completely ignored me, continuing to smile and serve them. Brianna was wearing a logo-plastered outfit, even though it was so last season. Meanwhile, I was in a simple t-shirt and carrying a canvas bag. No wonder the saleswoman thought I wasn’t worth her time. Brianna noticed me too. “What kind of people are they letting in this store?” Julian added, “Keira Westbrook, what are you doing here? You can’t afford anything in this store.” I smiled. “Oh? Did your family open this store? I didn’t know I needed permission to look around.” The saleswoman clearly picked up on the tension and sided with them. “I’m sorry, miss, but the lowest-priced item in our store is $30,000. If you can’t afford it, you really shouldn’t waste your time.” I couldn’t help but laugh inside. She had no idea who she was backing. After showing Brianna several bags, I overheard her say to Julian, “Baby, I want this one, and the second one in that row too.” The sales associate beamed. “Oh, you have such good taste, miss! These are our bestsellers. You’ve got a great eye.” Brianna, pleased, slung the bag over her shoulder and admired herself in the mirror. Then she noticed me. “Keira Westbrook, aren’t you embarrassed carrying around that cheap canvas bag? Aren’t you supposed to have a job?” I was carrying a canvas bag because I planned to go grocery shopping later. Gotta think green, you know? Save the planet. I shot back, “What’s wrong with a canvas bag? Does your family live by the sea or something? Why are you so concerned?” Brianna, frustrated, rushed back to Julian. “This one, that one, and the other one—I want them all!” Julian, trying to sound generous, said, “Buy them all!” The saleswoman’s eyes sparkled with glee. I picked up a black handbag, wanting a closer look, when the saleswoman stormed over. “I’m sorry, miss, but this is our latest model. It costs $150,000 and is only available to our VVIP clients. Please don’t touch it—you might get it dirty.” Brianna laughed. “Keira, don’t get your filthy hands on that bag. You couldn’t afford it even if you sold yourself.” I was about to fire back when a sharp voice came from the entrance. 5 “Who said Keira can’t afford it?” The saleswoman panicked. “M-manager, you’re back!” Amanda, the store manager, walked in and immediately apologized to me.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “317509”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply