Enough was enough. I’d spent years cleaning up after him, enduring insults from his girlfriends, and dreaming of a life that clearly wasn’t meant for me. I didn’t need his million dollars. Not anymore.
Without a word, I turned and left him there, sprawled on the bed, still murmuring Chloe’s name.
As I stepped out into the cold night air, I felt a strange sense of relief. Julian Grey might have been the prince charming of my fantasies, but he wasn’t worthy of my reality.
I stormed out of Julian's mansion, a cocktail of shame and anger brewing inside me. How foolish I'd been to believe—even for a second—that Julian Grey, my boss and a notorious playboy, could feel anything for me beyond professional convenience. That moment, when he'd whispered Chloe's name, had shattered whatever illusion I'd foolishly nurtured.
I hailed a cab to take me home, but as the car sped through the quiet streets, regret began to gnaw at me. If I simply left now, everything I’d endured tonight—my embarrassment, my emotional turmoil—would have been for nothing. I had to go back. Maybe not for love, but for something just as important: compensation.