The Billionaire’s Botched Proposal

1 I was his secret mistress for five years and even bore him two kids. He slammed a black credit card into my hand with a scowl. "A hundred million. Is that enough?" Me: "More than enough! Thank you, boss!" I assumed it was my severance package. Holding my babies, I walked away without looking back, even taking his Golden Retriever on the way out. Later, my best friend told me that on the day I left, he smashed three priceless antique vases in his office and screamed at his secretary: "I told her to buy an engagement ring! An engagement ring! Why the hell did she take the money and run?!" Holding my toddler, I blinked in utter confusion. "...Wait, what?" … Jordan's corner office. The AC was blasting cold air, making my skin prickle. He sat behind his massive black ebony desk, his face darker than the wood. Slam. A sleek black card dropped onto the polished surface, sliding right in front of me. "Take it." His voice lacked warmth, dropping like a block of ice onto concrete. I reached out, picking up the card. My fingertips brushed against the cold, metallic surface. He glared at me, his sharp gaze practically burning holes through my clothes. "Five years," he spoke, his tone heavy with suppressed fury. "Is this enough?" I looked at him, then down at the card. I ran the numbers quickly in my head. Five years. Two kids. The prime of my youth. In exchange for an unlimited black card. Was it worth it? I didn't know. But I knew it was time to end things. With an attitude like his, what else could this be? Maybe he found someone new. Maybe his family arranged a high-society marriage. Or maybe he was simply tired of me. None of it mattered. What mattered was that he was giving me a dignified way out. I took a deep breath and offered him my signature smile, a submissive, obedient smile I had practiced thousands of times over the past five years. "More than enough," I nodded repeatedly. "Thank you, boss. Paid in full, I understand completely." I clutched the card tightly in my palm. This was my security, my financial safety net for the rest of my life, and the future of my two children. Jordan's face froze. He clearly hadn't anticipated this reaction. The fiery rage in his eyes instantly crystallized into complete bewilderment. I didn't linger to analyze his expression. Delaying only invited trouble. If I didn't leave now, what if he changed his mind? "Well then, Mr. Irwin..." I stood up, offering a polite bow. "If there's nothing else, I'll be taking my leave?" His lips moved, but no sound came out. "The kids..." he finally managed to squeeze out two words. "Don't you worry," I cut in immediately, speaking at breakneck speed. "I will take great care of the children. I'll make sure they never disturb your new life." "No need for child support either. The money on this card is more than enough. I promise they will vanish from your world completely." Finishing my speech, I offered another flawless bow. Then I turned and walked toward the exit. My high heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor. Every step felt like climbing a staircase toward total freedom. I could feel his gaze burning into my back like a spotlight, intense and suffocating. I didn't look back. I couldn't look back. The moment my hand touched the door handle, a low, strained sound echoed from behind me, squeezed straight from the depth of his throat. "Lynda!" My body stiffened. I didn't turn around. I opened the door and walked out. Outside, his executive secretary, Brenda, stood trembling, looking at me in sheer panic before peeking past me into the office. I ignored her, heading straight for the executive elevator. Once inside, the doors slid shut. The mirrored walls reflected my face: calm, expressionless, composure fully intact. Only I knew that my heart was pounding wildly against my ribs. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. "Hi, movers? I need the fastest service you have." "Thirty minutes? Great. I'll send the address." "Also, help me book three tickets to Silver Sands. The earliest flight available." The elevator reached the ground floor. I stepped outside into the summer heat and exhaust fumes. It was stifling, but to me, it smelled like pure freedom. I glanced up at Jordan's skyscraper towering into the clouds. Goodbye, Jordan. Goodbye to five years of being a bird in a golden cage. From today on, I, Lynda, am a free woman. With your hundred million dollars. Back at the luxury mansion Jordan provided, I burst through the front door. Nanny Mrs. Flora was sitting in the living room playing building blocks with my kids. "Miss Lynda, you're back?" Mrs. Flora stood up. "Mrs. Flora," I panted, trying to keep my voice steady. "An emergency came up at work. They're sending me out of state for an extended business trip." "Please help me pack the kids' clothes. Just their daily essentials, and hurry." Mrs. Flora blinked in surprise. "So sudden?" "Yes, extremely urgent," I nodded, putting on a serious expression. "Company business." Not daring to pry further, Mrs. Flora hurried upstairs to pack. I squatted down to look at my two angels. My oldest, Toby, four years old, looked just like Jordan, wearing a tiny serious frown on his face. My youngest, Penny, two years old, took after me, her eyes curling into cute crescents when she giggled. "Toby, Penny," I stroked their soft hair. "Mommy is taking you both on a fun long trip. Are you excited?" Penny clapped her tiny hands, babbling merrily, "Yay! Trip!" Toby knitted his small brows, staring at me. "Mommy, did Daddy tell you to go?" My heart sank slightly. "No," I shook my head. "Mommy wants to go." "Daddy... Daddy is very busy. We shouldn't bother him." Toby nodded thoughtfully, asking no further questions. Relieved, I sprinted into my master bedroom and opened the safe. Inside were the cash and jewelry I had saved over the years, along with our passports, birth certificates, and official documents. I had already stored encrypted scans of everything on a flash drive. I swept everything into a pre-packed backpack, then opened the walk-in closet. I skipped the designer clothes he bought me, taking only a few comfortable cotton outfits I had bought myself. By the time I finished, Mrs. Flora came down with the kids' luggage. "Miss Lynda, all packed." "Thank you." I pulled out a stack of cash from my purse, around three thousand dollars, and shoved it into her hands. "Mrs. Flora, thank you for taking care of us these past five years. This is your bonus." "I might... not come back for a long time. Take the money and head back to your hometown today." Mrs. Flora gasped, waving her hands nervously. "Miss Lynda, I can't accept this! Mr. Irwin will fire me!" "He won't. Take it. You earned it." "Leave right now, and don't look back." Intimidated by my resolute tone, Mrs. Flora stood dazed, holding the cash. Ignoring her, I grabbed the suitcases and led my children out the front door. At the porch, a massive golden head poked out from the doghouse. It was Buster, Jordan's Golden Retriever. Though technically his dog, I was the one who fed, walked, and bathed him most of the time. Buster looked at me, his tail spinning like a helicopter rotor as he let out a soft whine. He seemed to know we were leaving. Looking into his big, wet eyes, my heart melted. Given Jordan's terrible temper, who knew how he would treat Buster when he got mad? Screw it. I'm taking the dog too. "Buster, come here," I whistled softly. Buster darted over joyfully, nuzzling my leg. I unclipped his leash. "Come on, buddy. You're coming with us." And so, there I was: Lynda, a woman supposedly dumped by her billionaire sugar daddy. Leading two toddlers and a hundred-pound Golden Retriever, standing outside the gates waiting for the moving truck. The truck arrived. I loaded the kids and the dog into the back. The driver asked, "Where to, ma'am?" I gave him the address of a temporary storage facility on the outskirts of town. As the engine turned over, I cast one last glance at the golden cage I had lived in for five years. I had left the house keys on the entryway console. My SIM card had been snapped in half and tossed into a storm drain. Even if Jordan realized what happened, he would never find me. The moving truck rolled forward, the city lights melting into blurry streaks behind us. Toby and Penny were exhausted, leaning against my arms as they drifted off to sleep. Buster rested his heavy head on my lap, snoring softly. Looking out the window, I felt no sadness, no lingering regret. Only a massive, soaring sense of peace and anticipation for my new life. I pulled out the black card. It gleamed with a cold metallic sheen under the dim overhead light. I had no idea how much money Jordan had put in it. His claim of "a hundred million" was obviously exaggeration in anger. But a couple million, or ten million, had to be in there. It was more than enough. Enough for me to raise my kids and dog in a quiet corner of the world where nobody knew us. I let out a long breath. Jordan, this time, I'm truly gone. Taking your kids and your dog with me. One month later. In a quiet coastal town called Silver Sands, I rented a two-story storefront on a cozy street. The ground floor was converted into a bakery, which I redecorated simply. The top floor was a spacious two-bedroom apartment for me and the kids. Life became wonderfully peaceful. I didn't touch Jordan's black card. Not a single cent. I relied entirely on my personal savings, about three hundred thousand dollars. Spent frugally, it was enough to keep us afloat until the bakery turned a profit. I wanted zero financial ties to that man. The black card was buried at the very bottom of a biscuit tin, wiped from my mind. Every morning, I walked Toby and Penny to a nearby private preschool, then returned to manage my shop, baking cakes, making pastries, and brewing fresh coffee. Small-town life moved at a gentle pace, and the neighbors were warm and friendly. They only knew me as a single mother working hard to raise two kids. Nobody knew my past. It was bliss. Toby and Penny adapted quickly. They gained a sun-kissed glow and laughed constantly. Especially Toby, who used to frown like a miniature adult, now smiled every day. Buster became a local celebrity. He spent his afternoons napping by the bakery door, wagging his tail whenever regulars passed by. Kids from the neighborhood loved stopping to pet him after school. I assumed life would continue smoothly like this forever. Until one afternoon. I was in the back kitchen testing a new mango mousse recipe when my phone rang. It was a local, unknown number. "Hello?" "Lynda! It's me! Jess!" my best friend's frantic voice exploded through the speaker. I froze. "Jess? How... how did you get this number?" "Are you kidding me? You think I couldn't track you down?" Jess hollered. "I paid a private investigator to check your newly registered ID records! You crazy woman, running away without telling me a word! Do you know how worried I was?!" A warm wave washed over my chest. "I didn't want to get you involved in my mess." "Forget that!" Jess's tone turned eerily serious. "Lynda, answer me truthfully. What the hell happened between you and Jordan?" "Did you really run off with his money?" My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean 'ran off with his money'? He gave me that card as a severance package!" "Severance package?!" Jess's voice spiked an octave higher, piercing my eardrum so hard I jerked the phone away. "Who told you it was a severance package?!" Her yell left me completely baffled. "What else could it be? You should've seen his face that day, he looked ready to eat me alive! He slammed the card down and barked 'Is this enough?' If that wasn't a breakup, what was it?" Silence fell over the line. A heavy, agonizing silence that lasted for ten full seconds. I could hear Jess's deep, disbelieving breathing. "Jess? Are you still there?" "Lynda..." Jess's voice drifted through the speaker, carrying an eerie tone of utter disbelief. "My cousin's boyfriend works as a senior director at Jordan's company." "He said that on the afternoon you left, Jordan's office looked like an earthquake hit it." My chest tightened. "What... what did he do?" "He smashed his fifteen million dollar historical antique vase into pieces!" "Do you have any idea how expensive that was?! A fortune!" "He smashed two priceless porcelain vases right after!" "The entire executive floor was so terrified nobody dared to breathe!" "And he roared at his chief secretary, Brenda, for an hour straight!" I swallowed hard. "What... what was he screaming?" Jess took a deep breath, then recited in a slow, dramatic cadence: "'I told her to take the card and pick an engagement ring!' 'Cartier! Tiffany! Harry Winston! Whichever she damn well pleases!' 'I told her to pick a ring! A ring!'" "'Why the hell did she take the money and run?!'" "'And where is my dog?! Brenda! Where the hell is my dog?!'" My brain exploded like a grenade detonated directly above my head. My grip failed, and my phone dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. I stood paralyzed in the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the back window, bright and warm. Out in the yard, Toby and Penny were chasing Buster around the grass, their bright, bell-like laughter echoing through the air as Buster barked playfully, his tail wagging furiously. Everything was so peaceful, yet so utterly absurd. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, I bent down and picked up my phone. Inside my head, Jess's voice echoed on an endless, screaming loop: I told her to pick a ring... pick an engagement ring... I stared at the goofy Golden Retriever in the yard. Then at my two toddlers rolling on the grass. Finally, my eyes landed on the biscuit tin buried in the pantry that held the black card. So... he wasn't breaking up with me. He was... proposing? And I... I mistook his proposal for a breakup? Then I not only took his money and his kids, but also stole his dog on my way out? Wait... What?!