The Billion-Dollar Ex-Girlfriend, All Cash, No Regrets

Whenever I brought up getting married during our five years together, my boyfriend always refused. "It’s not the right time yet. Wait until I’ve saved enough for a down payment." I didn’t understand his obsession and tried to reassure him. "I don’t care if you own a house or not." "Well, your parents do!" He cut me off sharply, then reached over to stroke my hair, softening his voice. "Be good and just wait a little longer. I don't want you to struggle." I believed him. I spent years convincing my parents to give him a chance, living frugally right alongside him. The day he finally hit his down payment goal, I went to the luxury sales gallery alone to check out condos, planning to give him a surprise. Through the glass wall of a model unit, I saw him with his arm wrapped around a woman. The woman was pouting playfully. "The natural lighting here is amazing, but the balcony is a bit small." He turned his head, about to soothe her, when his eyes met mine. He froze instantly. I didn't even look at him. Smiling, I turned to the sales agent. "I’ll take this place. All cash." The agent froze, nearly dropping the floor plan in his hands. "Ma'am... did you say all cash?" "Yes." I smiled, pulling an unlimited black card from my purse. "All cash. I can sign the purchase agreement today." Behind the glass, Ethan finally snapped out of his trance. He dropped his arm from the woman's waist and rushed over. "Chloe, let me explain—" I glanced down at my watch. "You have thirty seconds." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darting back toward the woman. She, on the other hand, was completely unbothered. Strutting over in her high heels, she looped her arm through his and tilted her head to size me up. "You're Chloe?" She smiled, the beauty mark by the corner of her lip curling upward. "Ethan mentioned you. He said you're capable, just a little too aggressive." I ignored her and kept my eyes on Ethan. "Fifteen seconds left." "Chloe, this is Tiffany. She’s... she’s just an old college friend. We bumped into each other today, and I was just helping her look at apartments—" "Helping her look?" I shook my phone. "So having your arm wrapped around her waist was just you checking her pulse?" Tiffany let out a soft laugh. "Chloe, don't get the wrong idea. Ethan and I dated throughout college. We only broke up for a while because of our careers. Didn't he tell you?" My grip tightened around the strap of my purse, my fingernails digging into my palm. Five years. In five years, he had mentioned having a college girlfriend, but swore they lost touch ages ago. Instead of denying it, Ethan sighed heavily, as if I were the one throwing an unreasonable tantrum. "Chloe, Tiffany just speaks her mind. Don't take it personally. Today really was just a coincidence..." I stared at him as if looking at a complete stranger. "A coincidence?" I cut him off coldly. "You told me you had to work late three times a month, always on Thursdays. Today is Thursday. So your special overtime project was apartment hunting with your ex?" Ethan’s face shifted—not with guilt, but with the irritation of being exposed in public. "Do you really have to make everything sound so ugly?" I chuckled. I didn't have the time or energy to waste bickering with them here. "Fine," I said, putting my card away. "Ethan, we'll settle our score later. As for this place—" I turned back to the agent. "I'll take it. All cash. Let's sign right now." "Chloe!" Ethan panicked and grabbed my wrist. "Stop making a scene! I saw this place first!" "You saw it first?" I yanked my hand back. "Did you sign a contract? Did you put down a deposit? Did you wire the funds?" He fell silent. Tiffany sneered from the side. "Chloe, isn't this pathetic? You're just throwing a fit. Buying a penthouse isn't like buying groceries. All cash? Can you even afford it?" I pulled out my card again and flashed it right in front of her eyes. "Want me to swipe the deposit right now so you can watch?" The smirk wiped clean off Tiffany’s face. The agent was quick on his feet. He immediately guided me toward the VIP lounge. "Ms. Vance, right this way, please. Let me walk you through the final price and exclusive discounts." I followed him, leaving Ethan and Tiffany standing awkwardly in the model room. As I turned the corner, I heard Tiffany whispering behind me, "Who is she trying to fool? When her card declines, she won't even get her deposit back." Ethan replied in a hushed tone, "Leave her alone. Let her throw her fit. She's the one who'll come crawling back crying anyway." I didn't look back. Sitting down in the private lounge, the agent poured me a glass of water and laid out the blueprints and pricing sheet. "Ms. Vance, this unit is 1,800 square feet with panoramic views. The total comes to $3.76 million. Since you're paying in full, we can offer a cash discount, bringing it down to roughly $3.64 million." Looking at the numbers, I felt nothing. Ethan knew my parents ran a business and were well-off, but he never knew the scale of it. Over the years, I had spent so much breath trying to convince my parents to accept him, only to realize I was completely blind. Glancing over the paperwork, I realized my parents would probably tease me for buying a condo from our own family's development project just to pad the sales quota. Still, compared to the sting of getting cheated on, this money was pocket change. I shook my head with a wry smile. "Let's sign.""...Right away." During that momentary pause, the agent had feared I might back out. Snapping to his senses, he almost tore the contract page in his rush. While filling out my information, my phone buzzed repeatedly. Ethan’s text messages flooded in: [Chloe, don't be impulsive. That place really isn't right for you.] [The monthly payments will drown you. You can't carry this alone.] [Can we please just sit down and talk like adults?] I didn't reply. After signing the agreement and swiping fifty grand for the earnest deposit, I stood up with my receipt. Walking out of the lounge, I saw Ethan and Tiffany still lingering in the lobby. Tiffany was leaning against the front desk scrolling on her phone, while Ethan stood with his arms crossed, his face dark. Seeing me come out, he marched over. His eyes immediately locked onto the receipt. When he realized I had actually swiped the card, his pupils dilated. "You signed it?" "I did." He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "Chloe, have you lost your mind? A multi-million-dollar property in cash? Where did you even get that kind of money?" "None of your business." "How is it none of my business? You're my girlfriend—" "Ex-girlfriend," I corrected him calmly. "Chloe, I know you're mad. I messed up today by not telling you beforehand. But after five years together, you can't throw everything away over one misunderstanding—" "One misunderstanding?" I interrupted him. "You've been secretly seeing your ex behind my back for five years, and that's just a misunderstanding? You treated me like an idiot for five years, and that's just a misunderstanding?" A few other buyers in the lobby turned their heads to watch. Ethan's face flushed bright red. "Keep your voice down!" "Why should I?" My voice rose even louder. "You had the nerve to do it, but you don't have the stomach to hear it?" Tiffany sauntered over, linking her arm with Ethan's again, and flashed me an insincere smile. "Chloe, don't be so dramatic. You can't force these things. Ethan and I have known each other way longer than you two have." "And your point is?" I met her gaze. "You want a medal for being his first choice?" "I never said that." She tilted her head, smugness practically oozing from her pores. "But look, Ethan still chose me in the end. You gave him five years, and he never once proposed. Don't you already know what that means deep down?" The words pierced like a dagger. It didn't shatter me, but it stung with a bitter ache. Five years. Five years of patient waiting. I thought he was truly worried about putting me through hardships, that he genuinely wanted to build a secure future for us. In reality, he was just stringing me along while waiting for Tiffany to come back to him. I tightened my grip on the signed paperwork. "Tiffany, you're right," I smiled coldly. "It just proves he has terrible taste." I turned and walked away. Stepping out of the sales gallery, the bright sun warmed my skin. Standing on the front steps, I took a deep breath, and half of the suffocating weight in my chest lifted. My phone buzzed again, and Ethan ran out of the building, blocking my path at the entrance. "Chloe, will you just hear me out?" I kept moving. He reached out to grab my arm, and I slapped his hand away. "Touch me again and I'm calling the police." He froze. "Chloe, there really is nothing between Tiffany and me." He dropped his tone, almost begging. "We just ran into each other today. She dragged me here to look at properties, and I just couldn't find a polite way to say no—" "Ethan," I called his name firmly. "Can you at least workshop your lies before telling them? You couldn't say no to her? But you had no problem saying no to me every single time?" He went completely speechless. I turned to leave, but he scrambled to keep up. "Then why did you buy that condo? Are you just doing this to spite me?" I didn't answer. He took a deep breath, looking as if he were making a massive, heroic sacrifice. "If you really want that place, I'll help you figure out the financing. Don't carry it all alone. It breaks my heart to see you do this." I almost burst out laughing. "It breaks your heart?" "You claim your heart aches for me, yet you stayed wrapped around your ex while dating me? You claim your heart aches for me, yet you dragged your feet for five years without committing? You claim your heart aches for me, yet you brought her here to shop for a home until I caught you red-handed?" Every single word choked him into silence. "Ethan, do you know what disgusts me the most about you?" I stared him dead in the eye. "It's not your messy little affair with Tiffany. It's the fact that you do disgusting things while playing the devoted martyr. You were dragging your feet, but you claimed you were working hard for us." "You lied straight to my face, but you claimed you were protecting me. That hypocritical act of yours is far more sickening than the cheating itself."His face went entirely pale. Without another glance, I hailed a cab and left. Back at my apartment, I tossed my keys on the entryway table and collapsed onto the couch. My phone finally went quiet. Ethan had apparently given up. His last message had arrived five minutes ago: [Cool off for a couple of days. We'll talk then.] Talk in a couple of days. He probably thought this was just a temporary burst of temper. He thought that once I calmed down, I would crawl back, believing our five-year history couldn't be dismantled by a single piece of real estate. After all, during our five years together, I had never genuinely picked a fight with him. Whenever we disagreed, he would make a half-hearted gesture, and I would always take the olive branch. He assumed this time would be no different. My phone buzzed again. This time, it was a voice memo from the sales agent: "Ms. Vance, the agreement is registered in our system. Whenever you're free tomorrow, please stop by with your mortgage paperwork... Oh, wait, silly me, you're paying all cash! You just need to come in and sign the final deed and transfer documents." I texted back a simple "Sounds good." When I went back to sign the final contracts the next afternoon, I deliberately chose three o'clock. Foot traffic was light at that hour, and I had no desire to bump into anyone. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side. The moment I stepped into the lobby, I saw Ethan sitting in the lounge area. A messy stack of documents was spread out before him next to a cup of cold tea. It looked like he had been waiting for hours. Spotting me, he shot up, his expression a chaotic mix of three different melodramas playing at once. "Chloe." I ignored him and walked straight to the reception desk. He hurried after me, his voice hushed. "Do you really have to be like this?" The receptionist recognized me immediately and handed over a thick folder with a warm smile. "Ms. Vance, here is your finalized contract. Please take a look, and feel free to ask if you have any questions." Ethan’s eyes bore into the contract, his throat bobbing nervously. "You actually bought it? Where on earth did you get that kind of cash?" I didn't answer and flipped through the pages. Frustrated, he slammed his hand down on the paperwork. "Chloe! I asked you a question!" The receptionist gasped, startled, and took half a step back. I looked up into Ethan’s face. In five years, it felt like the first time I was truly seeing him clearly. High brow bone, straight nose, a smile that usually curled up at the edges, giving him the appearance of a gentle soul. Now, that same face was twisted with anxiety, suspicion, and a thin veil of greedy calculation. "Ethan," I peeled his fingers off the contract one by one. "In what capacity are you questioning me?" He froze. "My ex-boyfriend?" I paused deliberately. "Or Tiffany's fiancé?" His face went livid. His lips parted, but no sound came out. Just then, the sharp click of high heels echoed from the entrance. Tiffany walked in carrying two iced coffees. Taking in the confrontation, she raised an eyebrow. "Ethan, why are you still here?" She handed him a cup and shot me a disdainful glance. Ethan took the cup without drinking, clutching it until his knuckles turned white. He stared at me, something dark and turbulent churning in his eyes. "Chloe, I'm going to ask you one more time. A three-million-dollar condo—where did you get that money?" Hearing that, Tiffany scoffed maliciously. "Ethan, don't you get it yet? You were with her for five years. Don't you know her salary? God only knows where that money came from." She turned to me, the beauty mark by her lip lifting into a sneer. "Chloe, don't take this the wrong way, but these days, when a pretty young girl suddenly comes into millions, there are only so many ways she got it. Am I wrong?" The insinuation was vile, yet Ethan didn't utter a word in my defense. He watched me, his anxiety slowly curdling into something else. Suspicion. And a flicker of pure disgust. "Chloe," his voice dropped low. "I am so disappointed in you." I laughed out loud, laughing so hard my stomach ached. "Ethan, does your conscience not pinch you when you say that?" I snapped the folder shut. "You're disappointed in me? I am thoroughly disgusted by you." "You—!" Before he could finish, the private executive elevator doors slid open. A middle-aged man in a sharp black suit hurried out. The moment he spotted me, his expression transformed. He practically jogged across the marble floor. "Ms. Vance! How wonderful to see you! Why didn't you let us know you were coming? I would have personally picked you up!"