Earning Billions From My Cruel Fiancé

The heavy wrought iron door was pushed open by Chlo Don, letting out a metal-tearing moan that shattered the carefully crafted silence of Beverly Hills estate.

Her phone vibrated violently in her trench coat pocket. She took it out and saw the screen glowing ominously red, and a digital clock was counting down from the thirtieth day—the death countdown had started.

A wave of nausea washed over her, her stomach churning violently, making it almost impossible to breathe.

She forced herself to move forward, her high heels sinking into the loose rubble in the driveway. An ankle twisted, the burning pain shooting up her calf. She gasped, steadied herself before falling, her knuckles turning white from gripping the suitcase handle.

A furious bark came from the wide lawn on the right.

A black Doberman—muscular and fangs—lunged at its chain. The chain rang out with a piercing metallic sound, stretched to its limit. Titan. The app had warned her about this dog.

That pure animal fury sent a chill rushing through her veins. Her breath caught, her whole body stiffened—her primal fear of large dogs paralyzed her from the inside out. She was like a statue sculpted by fear.

"He seems to really like you."

A cold, mocking voice came from the second-floor balcony. Julian Beaumont IV stood there, a glass of whiskey waving in his hand, the amber liquid reflecting the harsh California sunlight. He looked at her, wearing a mask of indifference, showing no intention of calling the dog back.

Kolo looked up, but the sun behind him was dazzlingly white, turning him into a tall, dark silhouette. She couldn't see his expression clearly, but she could feel the weight of his contempt.

A low, light chuckle drifted down, a voice more insulting than any curse. He turned around, his lazy gesture clearly showing his disdain, preparing to return to the house.

Despair gripped her throat. She stepped back half a pace, her back hitting the cold iron bars of the main gate. Trapped.

The Doberman let out a throat growl and broke the leash. The chain danced through the air, and the black muscle and fury surged forward in just a few heartbeats.

Kolo squeezed her eyes shut, her knuckles pressing tightly against the soft leather of the Hermès bag. She braced herself for the impact, ready to feel the burning pain of her teeth piercing her flesh.

The pain did not come.

A muffled groan came from the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, and the sound of someone struggling desperately.

She risked opening her eyes. The manor's steward—a white-haired, lean man—lay on the ground, arms wrapped around the Doberman's neck, face pressed against its back, doing everything he could to subdue the roaring animal. Alfred.

Kolo gasped heavily, his lungs burning painfully. Cold sweat had soaked through the silk lining of his trench coat, sticky and sticky to his skin.

The silhouette on the balcony disappeared. Moments later, she heard the clear and rhythmic knocking of expensive shoes coming from the marble stairs, getting closer and closer. Like a predator descending on prey.

The heavy front door suddenly flung open. Julian Beaumont IV stepped out and stopped just a few feet in front of her. Up close, he was even taller—six feet three inches, exuding an intimidating wealth and power that made her feel small and vulnerable.

"I almost thought you would resist." He said in a low voice. "But I guess, a Tang family member who begs for leftovers has little fighting spirit leftovers leftover."

The insult struck like a physical blow. She felt her teeth bite into the soft inner walls of her mouth, almost splitting open. She refused to give him any satisfaction in response.

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. His eyes were a shockingly cold gray, like a blizzard on a winter ocean. She met his gaze, trying to show a confidence she lacked, trying to reclaim a bit of control.

His movements were faster than she had expected. His hand suddenly stretched out, his fingers wrapping around her chin, squeezing with cruel force. A painful gasp escaped from between her lips.

"Don't look at me like that." He hoarsely said, his face only inches from hers. "You're no match for me. You're a parasite my mother forced upon me. ”

A sharp, burning rage pierced through her fear. She suddenly slapped his hand away. The sound was crisp and loud amid the tense silence. Red marks immediately appeared on the back of her hand and chin.

His eyes darkened, the cold gray turning to slate. He stepped forward, the violence radiating from his body far more terrifying than the dog's.

Her hand reached into her pocket, fingers gripping the cold, smooth surface of the phone. She pulled it out, her thumb sliding across the screen at a desperate pace.

She held it between the two, the screen flashing. Above, the name "Eleanor Beaumont" was displayed in bold, and the "Call" button was a tempting green icon.

"One more step." Her voice trembled, but every word was clear. "I'll call your mother. I'll tell her you tried to have your dog attack your fiancée on the very first day she arrived. ”

His gaze drifted toward the screen. The name seemed to burn him. A pure, undisguised disgust surged across his face—jaw tensed, lips pressed thin. For a moment, she thought he would pounce no matter what.

Then, he sneered contemptuously and took a step back. The physical pressure vanished, replaced by a cold, indifferent void.

"Alfred." His gaze never left Kolo. "Get that beast out of front of me."

He waved impatiently. The butler was still gasping for breath, managing to drag the struggling Doberman away.

The danger before her eyes was gone. Kolo slowly lowered her hand, her fist still tightly gripping the phone, her knuckles aching faintly. She released her fingers and saw four perfect crescent-shaped cuts in her palm, with tiny droplets of blood seeping out.

A cheerful "ding-dong" sounds from the phone, like a coin falling into a slot machine.

Julian Beaumont IV's contempt score increased by 500 points.

She glanced at the app's interface. A new notification popped up:

Account balance: +$500.00

A faint, cold smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. Almost imperceptible, but it was there.

Julian turned around, his back straight, and strode toward the mansion without looking back. The pure arrogance in that posture was suffocating.

Kolo took a deep breath, the air still filled with fear and the lingering scent of adrenaline. She lifted the suitcase, the wheels creaking against the rubble.

She followed him into the house. The battle had only just begun.