The Heiress's Gold-Digger

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