His Billion-Dollar Regret

His Billion-Dollar Regret

Er Duo

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My body was a battlefield, stitches screaming with every step, but my heart soared. I had just given a kidney to save Liam, the struggling artist I loved more than life itself. This massive sacrifice for the man I believed was my destiny, the fellow orphan who understood my every struggle, was all worth it because he would live. But then, laughter peeled from his hospital room – not just Liam' s, but his wealthy friends', their voices dripping with cruel amusement. "I can' t believe she actually did it," Tiffany' s voice sliced through me. "Sold a kidney! For you! That is the funniest thing I have ever heard." My world shattered as Liam, the "dying" patient, emerged from his charade, pulling off a fake IV and lighting a cigarette, his smirk cold and unfamiliar. The room reeked of betrayal. Liam, the "struggling artist," was the heir to the massive Blackwood Corporation. His illness, our shared past, his love – all a meticulously crafted lie, a cruel game orchestrated by Tiffany to "teach the little orphan a lesson." The thought made me sick; I had carved myself open for a ghost, my every genuine feeling trashed for their entertainment. Why? Why would someone inflict such calculated cruelty? My hope, once so vibrant, was crushed, leaving a gaping wound where my heart used to be. The humiliation was a physical weight, but then a cold, quiet rage began to burn away the tears. They thought they had broken me, reduced me to a pathetic charity case. They were wrong. I would not be their mouse anymore. I pulled out my phone, a new purpose hardening my resolve. I was done playing their game; it was time to leave.

His Billion-Dollar Regret Introduction

My body was a battlefield, stitches screaming with every step, but my heart soared.

I had just given a kidney to save Liam, the struggling artist I loved more than life itself.

This massive sacrifice for the man I believed was my destiny, the fellow orphan who understood my every struggle, was all worth it because he would live.

But then, laughter peeled from his hospital room – not just Liam' s, but his wealthy friends', their voices dripping with cruel amusement.

"I can' t believe she actually did it," Tiffany' s voice sliced through me.

"Sold a kidney!

For you!

That is the funniest thing I have ever heard."

My world shattered as Liam, the "dying" patient, emerged from his charade, pulling off a fake IV and lighting a cigarette, his smirk cold and unfamiliar.

The room reeked of betrayal.

Liam, the "struggling artist," was the heir to the massive Blackwood Corporation.

His illness, our shared past, his love – all a meticulously crafted lie, a cruel game orchestrated by Tiffany to "teach the little orphan a lesson."

The thought made me sick; I had carved myself open for a ghost, my every genuine feeling trashed for their entertainment.

Why?

Why would someone inflict such calculated cruelty?

My hope, once so vibrant, was crushed, leaving a gaping wound where my heart used to be.

The humiliation was a physical weight, but then a cold, quiet rage began to burn away the tears.

They thought they had broken me, reduced me to a pathetic charity case.

They were wrong.

I would not be their mouse anymore.

I pulled out my phone, a new purpose hardening my resolve.

I was done playing their game; it was time to leave.

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I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

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“My body was a battlefield, stitches screaming with every step, but my heart soared. I had just given a kidney to save Liam, the struggling artist I loved more than life itself. This massive sacrifice for the man I believed was my destiny, the fellow orphan who understood my every struggle, was all worth it because he would live. But then, laughter peeled from his hospital room – not just Liam' s, but his wealthy friends', their voices dripping with cruel amusement. "I can' t believe she actually did it," Tiffany' s voice sliced through me. "Sold a kidney! For you! That is the funniest thing I have ever heard." My world shattered as Liam, the "dying" patient, emerged from his charade, pulling off a fake IV and lighting a cigarette, his smirk cold and unfamiliar. The room reeked of betrayal. Liam, the "struggling artist," was the heir to the massive Blackwood Corporation. His illness, our shared past, his love – all a meticulously crafted lie, a cruel game orchestrated by Tiffany to "teach the little orphan a lesson." The thought made me sick; I had carved myself open for a ghost, my every genuine feeling trashed for their entertainment. Why? Why would someone inflict such calculated cruelty? My hope, once so vibrant, was crushed, leaving a gaping wound where my heart used to be. The humiliation was a physical weight, but then a cold, quiet rage began to burn away the tears. They thought they had broken me, reduced me to a pathetic charity case. They were wrong. I would not be their mouse anymore. I pulled out my phone, a new purpose hardening my resolve. I was done playing their game; it was time to leave.”
1

Introduction

30/06/2025

2

Chapter 1

30/06/2025

3

Chapter 2

30/06/2025

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Chapter 3

30/06/2025

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Chapter 4

30/06/2025

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Chapter 5

30/06/2025

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Chapter 6

30/06/2025

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Chapter 7

30/06/2025

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Chapter 8

30/06/2025

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Chapter 9

30/06/2025

11

Chapter 10

30/06/2025