Avery Sutton survives writing silly articles for chit chat weekly, Ethan Chase a tech billionaire, who dated Avery's boss Miranda Hartley. When her boss, Miranda, blackmails her to ruin Ethan chase life by writing a fake article about his charity fundings. Avery disguises to be a reporter from a magazine company hoping to get detailed information to ruin Ethan's life. In her quest, she found herself falling in love with Ethan, especially after that leaked photo that went viral on Instagram and the her blog blowing up. She's forced to fake date Ethan, Avery has to make a decision to either stay loyal to her boss or forget her career and stay with the love of her life.
Chapter 1 How to ruin a billionaire
Avery Sutton POV:
My eyes were dying from staring at this stupid screen. That dumb cursor kept blinking at me like it was laughing at my life. Chit-Chat Weekly gave me another trash assignment: *Top 10 Cat Memes That Made Grandmas Cry Over TikTok*. Four years of college and $82k in debt for **this**? I was supposed to be exposing scams, not making people think Grumpy Cat needed therapy.
"Avery!" My boss's voice crackled through the speaker like a dying smoke alarm. "Get over here or I'll make you write love letters for *TikTok pets*!"
I didn't move. Yesterday, I'd discovered one of those "cute" cat memes was linked to a pyramid scheme. Now my DMs? Flooded with angry emojis from a lawyer whose profile pic was his golden retriever in a tie. My cat, Judge Judy, batted my phone off the desk with a look that screamed *Girl, you're doomed*.
But hey-if that lawyer actually sued me, at least Judge Judy's 12 Instagram followers might crowdfund my bail.
Miranda Hartley slammed a folder on my desk. Her heels clicked like gunshots-same rhythm as the day she'd fired Todd from accounting for "excessive soup slurping."
"Ethan Chase," she said. "Dig dirt on him."
Coffee sloshed in my *World's Okayest Blogger* mug. "The tech guy? The one you..." *Dated*. The office Slack still had a GIF of her deleting his texts mid-meeting.
I flipped open the folder. Ethan's LinkedIn photo smirked up at me. For a billionaire, he still looked like the type to Venmo request you for half a fries. My student loan statement glared from my browser tab-$82,300. Mom's latest text blinked: *Rent okay?*
Miranda's acrylic nail tapped the cease-and-desist letter paperclipped inside. "He'll talk to you." Her eyes flicked to my thrift-store sneakers. "You're... relatable."
I bit back the urge to flip her off. Last month's draft-*Do Billionaires Use Toilet Paper?*-stared from my screen. Three news desk rejections. Three.
"Fine," I said. "But if this backfires, I'm blaming you."
Jordan hip-checked my desk, her energy drink sloshing onto my keyboard. "Remember when you got sued for calling that influencer's Pomeranian 'a sentient lint ball'? This'll be easier."
"That dog **was** a lint ball," I muttered. "And this isn't a TikTok roast. It's Ethan freaking Chase."
She tossed me a lint-covered blazer from her car floor. "Wear this. It says 'I'm definitely not here to leak your nudes.'"
Chase Innovations' lobby smelled like burnt popcorn and regret. The elevator doors groaned like they'd murder me first chance they got. My phone buzzed-Jordan: *WEAR THE LIPSTICK. IT SAYS "I DEFINITELY DON'T WORK HERE."*
The receptionist's stare burned holes in my thrifted blazer. My shoe squeaked.
The elevator dinged.
---
Three hours and one panick pee-later, Ethan's office was all sharp angles and leather that probably cost more than my life savings, but it smelled weirdly like my grandma's kitchen-burnt vanilla and impatience.
He didn't look up from his laptop. "I don't do interviews."
I fake-smiled. "Good thing this isn't one. It's a... lifestyle piece. What billionaires do when they're not being robots."
His jaw twitched. "Robots?"
"Yeah. Like, hobbies. Normal people stuff."
"Normal." He spun his pen. "You write about toilet paper habits. Why would I care?"
The cease-and-desist in my bag felt like a brick. "Because Forbes thinks you're a cyborg. I'll prove you're human. Win-win."
He snorted. "Or you'll twist it into clickbait."
"Scout's honor."
"You were never a scout."
"...True. But I'll sign whatever NDA you want."
Claire waved a document from the corner. "Page four: No photos of his banana bread."
The kitchen smelled like guilt and charred crust. Ethan scowled at the oven mitts. "This is dumb."
"Says the guy whose bread could end wars," I said, leaning against the counter.
He stiffened. "My mom... she used to bake. Every Sunday." The timer beeped. He yanked the loaf out too fast, the crust cracking like dry earth. "Damn it."
I pointed to the fissures. "Looks like my credit score. Perfect."
He almost smiled. Almost.
The half-burnt banana bread sat on my counter. I snapped a photo, captioning it: *When life gives you billionaires, make loaf-tery tickets.*
Jordan replied first: *IS THAT HIS BREAD?? I'M SCREAMING.*
Ethan's DM popped up an hour later: *You're burning it wrong.*
I grinned, crumbs dusting my keyboard.
This might not pay my rent.
But damn, it tasted good.
Chapter 1 How to ruin a billionaire
26/02/2025
Chapter 2 Cracks in the crust
26/02/2025
Chapter 3 Batter, bytes and burled secrets
26/02/2025
Chapter 4 Firewalls and fractured facades
26/02/2025
Chapter 5 The man behind the mask
26/02/2025
Chapter 6 The price of exposure
26/02/2025
Chapter 7 Beneath the surface
26/02/2025
Chapter 8 From suits to soccer fields
26/02/2025
Chapter 9 The distraction
26/02/2025
Chapter 10 Heat of the moment
26/02/2025
Chapter 11 Dangerous games
26/02/2025
Chapter 12 Static and venom
05/03/2025
Chapter 13 The weight of deceit
07/03/2025
Chapter 14 The cracks begins to show
08/03/2025
Chapter 15 House of cards
09/03/2025
Chapter 16 Battle of the mind
10/03/2025
Chapter 17 Crossing the line
11/03/2025
Chapter 18 House of lies
12/03/2025
Chapter 19 Shattered trust
13/03/2025
Chapter 20 The fallout
15/03/2025
Chapter 21 The agreement
16/03/2025
Chapter 22 Shattered trust
17/03/2025
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