Fleeing the Gilded Cage Dont Want to be the Billionaires Wife

I was Anderson Mathews' sugar baby, his pretty little thing. But when I saw him kiss his sister-in-law, Hope-his one true love-I knew I had to escape.

I planned my exit meticulously, aiming to disappear the second my contract ended. I would become a scientist, find a kind, ordinary man, and build a life of my own.

But Anderson wouldn't let go. He sabotaged the career of Caleb, the good man I' d fallen for, and used my estranged mother to publicly humiliate me, all to force me back into his gilded cage.

"Marry me, Ayla," he proposed, a lifetime contract to replace the old one. "You'll be truly free. With me."

My mother' s screams echoed in my ears: "She's a whore! Your whore! Dirty goods!" And Caleb, my Caleb, heard every word.

I looked at Anderson's cold, possessive eyes, then at Caleb's, filled with a pain that shattered my heart. I had to make a choice.

This time, I wouldn't just run. I would end this, once and for all.

Chapter 1

Ayla Thompson POV:

Everyone knew what I was. Anderson Mathews' sugar baby. His gilded cage girl. His trophy. A pretty little thing he kept around.

I smiled when he wanted me to smile. I wore the dresses he picked. I nodded at the right times, laughed at the right jokes. My beauty was a performance, a silent language spoken for an audience that never truly saw me. To them, I was beautiful, obedient, and utterly, perfectly his. A doll with no strings that were visible to the naked eye.

They saw the diamonds, the designer clothes. They didn't see the tuition bills, the empty bank account, the eviction notice. They didn't see the desperation that gnawed at my stomach, the gnawing fear that had driven me to this glittering, suffocating prison. Columbia wasn't cheap, and my family had made sure I had nothing left.

He'd look right through me, even as his hand rested on my back at some charity gala. Then he'd look across the room at Hope, his sister-in-law, his 'one true love,' and a different light, a desperate yearning, would flicker in his eyes. I was just a substitute, a warm body, a convenient distraction. I endured his coldness, his public indifference, the subtle barbs from his inner circle. I endured it for Hope, the ghost who haunted our every interaction, the woman whose shadow I could never escape.

They all thought I'd end up alone, broken, clinging to the scraps of his wealth. A cautionary tale. Another forgotten face. They envisioned me drowning in the aftermath, lost without his gilded chains protecting me from the world. A beautiful toy, eventually tossed aside.

But they were wrong. I wasn't just surviving. I was planning my escape. And tonight, it all started. The timer was set.

My phone vibrated with a notification. A transfer from Anderson's account. Tuition paid. Another month secured. I closed the banking app, a stark reminder of the golden handcuffs I was still wearing. I clicked over to a messaging app. Kyle, my best friend, was already sending memes about final exams.

"Are you sure about this, Ayla?" Kyle's voice was tight with worry when I called her later. "He's not going to just let you walk away."

I leaned against the cold window pane of my luxurious, temporary apartment, watching the city lights blur. "He won't even notice at first, Kyle. I'm just a convenience. A pretty accessory." The words felt heavy, even though I'd repeated them a thousand times.

"Anderson Mathews doesn't 'not notice' things. Especially not things he considers his, Ayla. He's possessive, you know that." Kyle' s voice held a note of warning, a fear I understood all too well. Anderson saw me as an extension of his power, a beautiful object to be displayed, never questioned. He was a man who controlled everything and everyone in his orbit, a man whose presence filled a room even when he wasn't speaking. His coldness wasn't a lack of emotion; it was a weapon, honed and precise.

"He's obsessed with Hope. Not me." I forced a lightness into my tone, a lightness I didn't feel. "He'll be too distracted. His whole world revolves around her. You've seen it. We all have."

Kyle sighed. "Okay, when exactly are you making your grand exit?"

"The second my final contract ends. Not a day earlier, not a day later. I've calculated it all." My voice was firm, resolute. This wasn't a whim; it was a meticulously constructed plan. I had a new city picked out, a new name even, a fresh start where no one would know "Anderson Mathews' sugar baby." I was going to find a quiet job, maybe in a library, and fall in love with an ordinary man who saw me, truly saw me, for who I was inside. A simple life, honest and free. That was my only dream now.