My Ex Called Me a Gold Digger

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe.

I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard.

"So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!"

Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door.

Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday."

I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

"Elliott, can you lend me seventy thousand dollars?"

The lively chatter in the private room of the bar ceased abruptly, as if someone had flipped a switch.

Elliott Mason's expression darkened in an instant. His deep, unreadable eyes locked onto mine, piercing and unrelenting. "Seventy thousand? What for?"

Before I could answer, a soft laugh broke the silence. It came from Tiffany Taylor, Elliott's childhood friend sitting by his side.

"I told you, didn't I? Some people pretend to be all innocent and pure, but the moment the opportunity arises, they'll find a way to scam you for money. And you didn't believe me." She leaned closer to Elliott, her tone mocking. "You said it was true love, but look at her now, asking for money. Seems like, to her, your wallet is more important than you are."

Her words stung, and as she spoke, she didn't forget to glance at me with a smirk that made my stomach turn.

I stared at Elliott, hoping for even a shred of defense, but he didn't move. He just sat there, listening to Tiffany's ridicule without lifting an eyelid.

The others noticed his indifference, their eyes flashing with surprise before their attitudes shifted.

It was no secret that Tiffany didn't like me. Most in Elliott's circle didn't. They believed I had stolen her rightful place and brazenly inserted myself into a world where I didn't belong.

Normally, Elliott shielded me, and out of respect—or perhaps fear—they would grudgingly be nice to me. But now, with Elliott silent, their restraint crumbled.

"Candice, you're really bold, aren't you? Asking for seventy thousand just like that."

"Do you think Elliott's money grows on trees?"

The room erupted into a cacophony of jeers.

"That's why you should never date poor people. Otherwise, you end up acting like a charity."

"And those harmless-looking ones? They're the worst. When they ask for money, they don't hold back at all."

"Candice, robbing a bank might be faster, don't you think?"

Someone even made a crude joke. "Or you could come to me. I'll give you ten thousand. Think about it."