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Working Off a Fake Debt Novel Cover

Working Off a Fake Debt

Desperate to afford holiday travel, Via joins a high-stakes livestream where a wealthy woman flaunts her sponsor's riches. The streamer reveals her benefactor is actually dating a 'broke girl' who is paying off a fraudulent $200,000 debt. Shocked, Via realizes the details match her own life and her boyfriend, Benjamin. While he claims to be working exhausting construction shifts, the truth suggests a cruel betrayal. Via must now navigate this web of lies and fake debt.
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Chapter 2

"We agreed to video call while he showered. I'll show you my sponsor's abs in a minute!"

Less than five minutes later, she posted an update.

A man's defined abs filled the screen, water beading and sliding down his skin. His face was out of frame, but the tiles behind him were unmistakable.

It was our bathroom. I had bought the cheap plastic storage basket, the discount shampoo, and the bar soap.

It was Benjamin.

Right now, in the tiny place we rented, he was showering while video calling the woman he kept.

The sound of running water never stopped.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe. *Don't panic. Stay calm. Think it through.*

There was nothing to think through.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the streamer, Anya Carter, reply to a top comment.

[You're just a kept girl showing off. He has a girlfriend. No matter how you spin it, you're still the mistress.]

She answered instantly.

[He's raising that poor thing like a pet. She has the title, that's all. He loves me. Don't believe it? One message from me, and he'll run straight over, even if he's at his girlfriend's place.]

The bathroom door opened the next second.

Benjamin rushed out in his loungewear, a damp towel still draped around his neck. "Via, something urgent came up at the construction site. I need to step out…"

Every nerve in my body went taut. I lunged and grabbed his hand.

"Benjamin," I said, my voice shaking despite myself. "Can I come with you?"

His back stiffened. Then he gently pried my fingers loose.

"No need," he said softly. "It's cold outside."

I grabbed him again, refusing to let go. My eyes locked on the red mark near his collarbone. My voice trembled. "What happened there?"

He looked down, and his eyelid twitched.

"Probably scraped it hauling rebar," he said too quickly. "I'm going now. Get some sleep."

All the strength drained out of me at once.

On the livestream, someone asked if the diamond necklace Anya wore was a gift from her sponsor.

She smiled coyly. "Nope. A certain big bad wolf got too excited and snapped my old necklace. This is compensation."

She laughed, then added, "I didn't let him off easy. I left a kiss mark right here. I even used full force."

She pointed directly at her collarbone.

Benjamin left. I stood alone in the entryway, grinding my fingertips together as if I could rub the skin raw.

How had I not noticed until now?

His fingers were long and clean, the joints sharp and elegant. There was not a single callus. Hands like that did not haul steel bars for a living.

Anya posted again at 3:00 a.m.

[Told you the sponsor loves me, didn't I?]

In the photo, she nestled, petite and obedient, into a man's arms. His face was covered with a sticker, but he wore the loungewear I had bought.

I had watched him wear it threadbare.

I bit down hard on my lip and zoomed in. Anya wore an oversized white men's shirt. On the chest were the letters BS.

Last year, I had stitched those letters myself, one needle at a time, as Benjamin's birthday gift. He had treasured that shirt. He said he would not wear it until the day we registered our marriage.

Instead, he gave it to someone else.

I stayed awake until dawn. I went to work like a corpse with its strings cut.

After my shift, I went to my usual part-time job at the coffee shop.

When I got home at 11:00 p.m., Benjamin was already back.

Two boxed meals sat on the table. He had changed into clean loungewear.

"They gave out extra meals at the site," he said casually. "I begged the foreman for them. The rest are in the fridge."

He sounded proud. "We can save two days' food money this way, and we won't go hungry."

I walked to the table in silence and looked at the greasy construction-site boxed meals.

In my mind, I saw what Anya had shown off earlier that day: Benjamin flying a foreign chef to the villa, cooking her a "simple lunch" face to face.

Sourness surged up from my stomach. I turned and went straight to the bedroom.

"I'm tired," I said. "You eat."

Not long after I lay down, Benjamin wrapped an arm around me from behind. His voice dropped low. "Via, I'm sorry. Because of my debt, you've suffered so much."

I murmured a vague response.

He went on, "It's New Year's Eve the day after tomorrow. We don't have enough for two tickets. You go home first. I'll stay here and wait for you to come back."

I opened my eyes and tapped open the ticket app.