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The Heiress's Gold-Digger

Simon spent seven years proving he wasn't after his billionaire girlfriend's fortune, walking miles to work while handing over his own meager paychecks. His devotion is met with cruelty when she denies him thirty dollars for a taxi to see his dying mother, accusing him of being a gold-digger. After missing his final farewell, Simon returns to find her gifting a thirty-million-dollar watch to another man. Heartbroken and disillusioned, he finally decides to walk away from her wealth and her heart.
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Chapter 1

My girlfriend is the true heiress of a wealthy family, yet she suffers from severe paranoia. She's convinced that everyone is out to exploit her.

She never believed in my love. In her eyes, I stayed with her only for status and money.

To prove my sincerity, during our seven years together, I never spent a single cent of hers. I handed over every paycheck I earned.

As for myself, I couldn't even afford a few dollars for a taxi. Every day, I walked five kilometers to work.

Then one day, my mother was in a sudden car accident. The doctor called and told me to come see her for the last time.

The hospital was thirty kilometers away. There was no way I could make it on foot in time.

Left with no choice, I asked my girlfriend to transfer me thirty dollars for a taxi.

She flew into a rage.

"Simon, thirty dollars is your entire monthly living expense. How dare you ask me for that much all at once? I almost believed your feelings were genuine. But now I see—you're no different from those gold-diggers!"

In the end, I never made it to see my mother one last time.

When I returned home in a daze, I found my girlfriend throwing a birthday party for her childhood sweetheart.

He was wearing the latest luxury watch, his face full of smug pride.

"This is the one you bought at an overseas auction, right? Worth thirty million," he said. "You wouldn't even give Simon thirty dollars for a taxi. You're really generous with me."

My girlfriend smiled indulgently.

"It's only thirty million. It's not like I can't afford it.

"Besides, how could Simon ever compare to you? Today, he dares to ask me for thirty. Tomorrow, he'll dare to ask me for thirty thousand.

"I've always known it. He's been with me just to take my money."

I stood there, frozen, my heart sinking into the abyss.

'It's fine. I don't want her money anymore. And I don't want her, either.'

I pushed the door open, and the noise inside the room came to an abrupt halt.

Seeing my pale face, Claire Musk looked annoyed.

"So what if I didn't give you thirty dollars? Who are you trying to scare with that expression, like you're attending a funeral? You're just like those gold-diggers—reeking of greed and utterly vulgar!"

Hearing these insults with my own ears, I felt nothing at all. Not anger. Not sorrow. Not even disappointment.

When Claire walked toward me, I calmly took a step back—avoiding the nauseating scent clinging to her, a mixture that clearly belonged to another man.

Noticing my movement, she let out a mocking laugh.

"What? I say a couple of words, and now you're throwing a tantrum?

"Today is Justin's birthday. If you won't celebrate with us, fine—but do you have to look so miserable? Do you have any manners at all?

"Enough. I'll give you one more chance. Go apologize to Justin right now."

I looked at her matter-of-fact expression, and my chest tightened with both coldness and anger.

"Apologize? For what? This is my home—what manners do I owe anyone here? And as for Justin, he's an outsider. Why does he have to hold his birthday party here, of all places? This is trespassing!"

Claire froze. She clearly hadn't expected me—who had always obeyed her without question—to talk back.

Embarrassed and furious, she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.

She was about to start yelling when Justin Miller stepped in with a show of false concern.

"Alright, Clairebear. Simon probably didn't mean it. After all, he asked you for thirty dollars today and didn't get it. It's normal for him to feel upset.

"There's always a gap between poor people and us. You've been together for so many years—surely he must want something from you, right?"

The implication was obvious. Claire's expression darkened immediately.

"Simon, I never thought you were this kind of person. Since you couldn't get money from me directly, you decided to play mind games, is that it?

"Forget it. Today is Justin's birthday, and I don't want to argue with you. Didn't you want thirty dollars? Fine. As long as you apologize, I'll give it to you."

Looking at her condescending stance, I suddenly felt like laughing.

Seven years in love—I had given Claire everything I had.