He Gave Away Our Dream House, So I Married A Billionaire

We were finally about to sign the closing papers on the dream house we’d spent two years preparing for, but my fiancé, Harrison, backed out at the last second. His best friend couldn't believe it over the phone: "Just because Chloe cried a little, you're giving away the house you spent two years prepping for? How are you going to explain this to Nora?" Harrison’s voice dripped with helpless affection: "Chloe just went through a breakup and has nowhere to go. She's fragile. I can't stand seeing her suffer. I can only have peace of mind once she's settled." When mentioning me, his tone turned completely dismissive: "We can always buy another house later. Nora is mature and sensible. We've been together for eight years—she'll understand." I stood outside the closing office, gripping my burning-hot phone. In silence, I turned away, the color draining from my face. On the day the contract was supposed to be signed, invitations to a housewarming party at a billionaire’s ultra-luxury estate blew up the city’s entire elite social circle. Harrison blew up my phone, his voice hoarse with rage: "Nora, you owe me an explanation!" Before I could speak, my new husband pulled me into his arms and took the phone. His voice was deep and lazy: "She’s busy. I wore her out last night. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her for you." My hand, which was about to push open the closing room door, slowly curled into a fist. Harrison had a childhood sweetheart named Chloe, whom he treated like his own life. There was an unlocked album on his phone filled with photos of Chloe from childhood to now. And then there were the countless rescheduled flight tickets from our dates, just so he could rush over and comfort Chloe every time she went through a breakup. I used to think that was just a deep, sibling-like bond that went beyond romance. Until a year ago, when I accidentally stumbled upon his journal. "Chloe got bullied again today. If only I had been braver back then, the one standing by her side and protecting her would be me." When he walked into the room, he was met with my pale face and his open journal. I had never seen him so frantic. He pulled me into a tight embrace, remorse and anguish overflowing in his eyes. "Nora, that was just foolish nonsense from when I was young. There’s nothing between us anymore." Right in front of me, he burned that journal. Then, he dropped to one knee, offering me a massive diamond ring. "Nora, marry me. We'll buy our marital home in Riverview Estates, just like you always wanted." After eight years together, I chose to believe him. I believed that journal was just a lingering regret from his teenage years. So, I accepted the ring and poured my heart into designing our future home. Yesterday, just one day before the final closing, I had hugged him excitedly and said: "The interior designer will have the final renderings ready tomorrow. Our home is finally coming together..." "Let's put the house on hold for now." My head buzzed. I thought I was hallucinating. But Harrison repeated it. "Let's wait. Chloe just broke up with her boyfriend and got kicked out by her landlord. I can’t bear the thought of her wandering the streets alone." He pulled me tighter, his tone coaxing: "You wouldn't want anything bad to happen to Chloe either, right? Our relationship is rock solid. We don't need to rush for a house." Even though my heart felt hollowed out, I didn't want him to think I was heartless. In the end, I nodded. I thought that house was the foundation of our future. But to him, it was just a stack of toy blocks he could kick aside for a few tears from his precious childhood friend. I stiffened my posture, keeping myself from collapsing to the floor. On the other end of the line, his friend was still trying to talk sense into him: "Everyone knows Chloe treats you like a backup plan. If you wait until she's settled down to start your own life, you'll be waiting forever." Someone in the background chimed in: "Why don't you two just get together already? Problem solved." Hearing that, Harrison's voice dropped ten degrees colder: "Shut up! If Nora hears that kind of talk, I'll never forgive you guys." The atmosphere instantly froze until someone scrolled through Chloe's Ins and said cautiously: "Harrison, Chloe posted that she fell in love with a painting at the Westside Gallery. She said it might cheer her up." Without a second thought, Harrison grabbed his car keys. Someone tried to stop him: "Harrison, that gallery only sells one-of-a-kind originals. They're notoriously hard to get. Just send your assistant, why bother going yourself..." Looking at the crying cat emoji Chloe had sent him, Harrison smirked: "As long as it makes Chloe happy, what's a quick drive?" Standing outside the door, my lips curled into a bitter smile. I remembered when I asked him to come look at renovation materials with me, and he had looked at me with pure annoyance. "Nora, I run a company of hundreds of people. I'm drowning in work every day. Can't you be a little more considerate?" Right. His time was pure gold. But his gold was never meant to be spent on me.I hid behind a pillar, watching Harrison's car speed away. When I finally came to my senses, my cheeks were icy cold with tears. Back at the apartment we shared, the rooms were filled with my floor plans and design sketches. At some point, I had pulled off the engagement ring, clutching it so hard in my palm that it bruised my skin. "Nora, what are you daydreaming about?" I hadn't even noticed Harrison coming back. A faint scent of fresh oil paint drifted over. I looked at the sleek art tube in his hands. With a tender smile, Harrison brushed a light kiss on my lips: "I'm sorry. It's my fault you're upset." "I pulled some strings to get this painting from the Westside Gallery for you. I heard you love this artist's style. Nora, for the sake of the painting, stop being mad at me, okay?" Pulled strings for me? A sharp sting stabbed through my chest. Just thirty minutes ago, Chloe’s bragging post had already landed on my feed. The photo showed that exact painting hanging in her new place. [He said as long as I’m happy, nothing else matters! Drove across half the city to snatch an exclusive original for me. Too bad his memory is slipping—he forgot I love warm tones. As for this cool-toned one... I guess he can pass it along to his uncultured girlfriend.] My eyes burned. The trust I had stubbornly held onto now felt like a brutal slap across my face. As he handed me the tube, he noticed the red ring mark pressed deep into my palm. Harrison’s smile froze, his voice laced with concern: "Nora, what happened to your hand?" I steadied my breath, casually pulling my hand back, and asked softly: "Is postponing our house really just because Chloe has nowhere to live?" A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but the lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly: "Of course. What else could it be?" In that instant, every ounce of trust vanished into ashes. I curled my lips into a faint smirk and said nothing more. The tense silence was shattered by a sharp ringtone. It wasn’t his usual professional ringtone. It was a girl's flirtatious, sweet whine: "Harrison~" Harrison dropped it like a hot potato, quickly declining the call and watching my face anxiously. I looked up at him: "Chloe?" There was no need to ask. I lowered my eyes, remembering when we were madly in love and I had asked him for a special ringtone just for me. He had refused self-righteously: "Nora, I'm an executive now. Silly childish gimmicks like that will ruin my professional image." "Does our relationship really need that kind of superficial nonsense to prove itself?" Now I understood. All his principles were made to be broken—only for Chloe. My simple question seemed to ignite Harrison's temper. He stepped back, putting distance between us, his face hardening: "It's just a ringtone! Can you stop being so paranoid?" "It was my bad to delay buying the house, but if you're going to throw a tantrum over every little thing, I don't have the energy to baby you." Right in front of me, he dialed Chloe back: "I accidentally hit decline earlier. What's wrong?" Chloe’s tearful voice echoed through the speaker: "Harrison, the lights in my new apartment are broken. I'm so scared all by myself..." Harrison didn't answer right away. Chloe sobbed louder: "Harrison, I'm really terrified of the dark." I looked up and caught him staring intently at me, mouthing the words: "If you say no, I won't go." I let out a soft sneer, set the diamond ring—still warm from my palm—onto the table, and turned toward my bedroom. The next second, Harrison’s suppressed anger erupted behind me: "Don't cry, Chloe. I'm on my way. Fixing the lights isn't enough—I'll stay over for the next few days to keep you company. Let's see if you're still scared then." The front door slammed shut with a heavy bang. Only then did all my strength collapse, and I slid painfully down to the floor.Clatter! The phone slipped from my trembling fingers. Falling with it was the framed photo of Harrison and me from the desk. The glass shattered on impact, cracks webbing across our smiling faces. Just like my shattered heart. My phone buzzed. It was my parents, their voices full of excitement: "Nora! We've picked out all the appliances for your new home! By the way, when are you two signing the closing papers?" Choking back my tears, my voice sounded calm, as if I were talking about a stranger: "Soon. It’s still on the same date. But... the address and the groom might change." Harrison didn't come home for two whole days. He had no idea that in this home we had shared for five years, every single trace of me was being packed up and emptied out. After a couple of days, I finally found time to cancel the custom luxury furniture I had pre-ordered for our marital home. The VIP lounge door was soundproofed, but it couldn't block the chirpy female voice coming from outside: "Does this sofa match my aesthetic?" "Wow, this chandelier is gorgeous!" "Harrison, do you think this dining table looks grand enough?" The man with her responded with a low, indulgent voice, letting out affectionate chuckles. Signing the cancellation paperwork, I thought absently: What a sweet couple. The next second, my pen froze. The man spoke again, his tone dripping with tenderness: "You have the best taste. Anything you pick looks stunning. But honestly, none of this is good enough for you. I already booked that Italian master designer for you. Only his work is worthy of your home." That voice. I had listened to it for eight years. It was etched into my very bones. "Harrison, would you..." I pulled open the door, locking eyes with the two of them gazing lovingly at each other. A cold sneer rose in my throat. If I had stepped out a second later, they probably would have staged a tearful, passionate reunion on the spot. Seeing me, Harrison's breath hitched. A fleeting spark of admiration flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by frost. A flicker of jealousy darted through Chloe’s eyes. She quickly let go of Harrison’s arm in feigned panic: "N-Nora... Didn't Harrison say you guys postponed buying the house? Why are you here?" Her eyes welled with tears on cue: "I knew it... Harrison was just trying to comfort me. After all, you two have been together for eight years..." Harrison’s face darkened completely as he snapped at me: "We only postponed the house, and you're already in such a rush to ditch me and line up your next option?" "And you just had to show up here today? Nora, stalking me like this is utterly pathetic. When did you become so cheap?" He truly thought the world revolved around him. A wave of disgust washed over me. I simply replied: "Just because I'm not buying a house with you doesn't mean I can't have a home of my own." Harrison patted Chloe’s back as she sniffled, his face furious: "I already told you the company needs working capital! Why are you so impatient? Do you have to humiliate me right now?" "What does your company have to do with my home?" Perhaps my detached tone caught him off guard. Harrison froze, until Chloe dabbed her tears and walked toward me gracefully: "Nora, how can you be so unreasonable? Harrison is already under so much pressure. Can't you be a little more understanding?" I watched her guardedly, a bad feeling rising in my chest. Sure enough, the moment Chloe got close to me, she grabbed her forehead, swayed, and collapsed dramatically toward the floor. Harrison’s face drained of color. He lunged forward and caught her. "Chloe!" In his arms, Chloe weakly fluttered her eyes open, her lips pale. "Harrison... I think my blood sugar dropped. Seeing Nora... I just panicked..." Harrison looked up, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me with unspoken accusation. The sirens wailed as the ambulance arrived, and Chloe was rushed to the hospital. Surprisingly, Harrison didn't follow immediately. I frowned. My new business partner, Alexander, was upstairs in a private meeting room. By my watch, he’d be finishing up soon. I didn't want him coming down to see this pathetic mess.A strange irritation clawed at Harrison's chest. He had never seen Nora look at him with such frigid indifference. He stepped forward to grab my hand, but I dodged him cleanly. "There are cameras everywhere here. I won't waste my breath explaining." Harrison’s hand froze mid-air. After a long silence, he rasped: "Nora, I know it wasn't you. I know the kind of person you are." I raised an eyebrow, slightly relieved. So he wasn't completely beyond redemption. Yet his very next words made me want to laugh out loud in rage. "But Chloe went as far as hurting herself to frame you. That shows how triggered she was. She's jealous of our relationship. She's relied on me since we were kids, and she just had a bad breakup. I'm terrified she might do something reckless." "So, just swallow your pride and apologize to her. She's basically a child. If you just coax her a little, this will all blow over." Slap! Pushed past my limit, I slapped him across the face. "I don't know if she acts like a child, but she's definitely a master manipulator. And our marital home is gone. Why don't you buy that house in Riverview Estates for her? Because what she really wants isn't a roof over her head—it's everything that's yours!" Harrison's face darkened instantly: "You're talking out of anger again! We went through half the contract! How could you be willing to let me give that house to someone else?" Before he could say more, his phone blared shrilly. "Hello? Is this Miss Chloe Vance's family? Her emotional distress triggered a fainting spell. Her vitals are unstable. Please come over immediately." Harrison's brows knit tightly. Without another glance at me, he spun on his heel and rushed out. My mood completely ruined, I brushed off my jacket as if dusting off filth. A warm pair of hands gently settled on my shoulders from behind. It was Alexander. That long-lost sense of security instantly washed over me. That night, Harrison bombarded my phone with calls and texts, every single one demanding that I apologize to Chloe. Expressionless, I blocked his number. Furious, he spent the next few days playing devoted caretaker at the hospital. He flaunted hiring top designers and buying luxury gifts for Chloe. Rumors swirled through our social circle, with everyone assuming they were rekindling their old flame. Friends and acquaintances poked around to see how I was holding up. Meanwhile, I was completely absorbed in decorating the new estate with someone else, not giving them a second thought. "Alright, that's enough." On the day we were originally supposed to sign the closing papers, I accidentally answered an unknown number. It was Harrison. "My assistant told me you hired movers. I know you still want that home." "Go apologize to Chloe first. I promise we'll look at new developments next month." His voice dripped with arrogant certainty and nauseating charity: "Otherwise, who knows how long this will drag on? Do you really want all those design sketches of yours to rot away?" I let out a dry laugh: "You're worrying for nothing. My housewarming party just wrapped up. Everyone said my new home is gorgeous." Harrison frowned, laughing mockingly: "Housewarming party? I'm sitting right here in my office. Who on earth are you throwing a housewarming party with?" Before he could finish, I hung up. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky was bright and clear, yet an unbearable restlessness seized Harrison’s chest. A creeping sense of dread took hold of him. Suddenly, his eyes caught the massive LED billboard on the commercial center across the street. A breaking news broadcast was playing on the local financial channel. It was the headline about the city's newly risen business titan, Alexander Sterling, purchasing the ultra-luxury property: The Sovereign Estate. Harrison’s breath caught. On the screen, Alexander had his arm wrapped intimately around a radiant, smiling woman. That woman was me. The scrolling ticker at the bottom read: [Sterling Group CEO Alexander Sterling Moves into The Sovereign Estate with His Beloved Wife, Nora. Sources Say the Luxury Estate Was a Secret Gift for His Bride.] A loud explosion seemed to detonate in Harrison's head. Something snapped completely.