The Heiress's Revenge Dumping My Gold-Digger Boyfriend

On Christmas Day, my boyfriend told me his parents were coming to visit him at school. I had carefully arranged a surprise for the three of them, but instead of a heartwarming reunion, I stumbled upon a nightmare.

I found them at a restaurant, sharing a meal with another girl.

"As soon as you grab that diploma," Mrs. Whitney said, her voice carrying over the clatter of dishes, "you need to dump her. Hurry back to our hometown and marry Fanny. She's been waiting for you for years. It hasn't been easy for her."

Mr. Whitney leaned forward. "Didn't you say that woman is a cash cow? Squeeze every cent out of her before you leave. Isn't online lending popular these days? Make her take out some loans. Your brother is starting college soon, and we need the money."

The girl, Fanny Dawson, spoke up. Her voice was shy, but her words made my stomach churn. "Scott, Mom and Dad booked us a room at the inn near campus. And... the timing is perfect. I'm in my fertile window right now..."

I stood frozen in the shadows, staring down at the expensive gifts I had meticulously prepared. A chill that had nothing to do with the winter air seized my body, turning my blood to ice.

Then Scott's voice drifted over, plunging me into an abyss.

"Don't worry," he said dismissively. "Eleanor is soft. I've almost coaxed her into sleeping with me. Let me have my fun with her first. Even after I graduate, I'll keep stringing her along to make money for the family. Even if Fanny gives me a son, Eleanor can pay for the formula. Free money."

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I looked down at the documents in my other hand—the notarized inheritance papers I had just received—and let out a shaky breath.

Thank God. Before I officially claimed the massive inheritance left by my biological parents, I had seen the true faces of this scumbag and his parasitic family.

But simply walking away wasn't enough.

I would set a trap. Watch him drown in debt. Claw back every penny I had spent on him over the years. Make him kneel and beg for forgiveness.

In my mind, I was already looking down at him with pure contempt.

Scott Whitney, the inheritance isn't a few hundred thousand. It's thirty million.

The hellish life you planned for me? I'm returning it to you, gift-wrapped.

It's exactly what you deserve.

——

This was supposed to be the third Christmas Scott and I spent together.

He was a college student from the countryside, projecting an image of honest hard work. I was the inconspicuous scholarship student from a small town, burying my head in books.

We had met while working part-time jobs. Over time, shared struggles turned into romance, and we started officially dating.

Like any young couple without money, our relationship was simple but sweet. In the scorching summer, we shared a single bottle of iced soda. In the biting winter, I wrapped a hand-knitted scarf around his neck.

Everyone said we were a perfect match. The whole department knew Scott treated me well, though they often envied him for landing the "department beauty."

We had walked hand in hand for three years. Standing outside the restaurant, I watched my breath puff out in white clouds, my arms laden with expensive gifts. The roadside was lined with Christmas trees, and the dazzling lights and lively carols had mirrored my mood just moments ago.

Because we had been broke for the past two years, I had become incredibly resourceful at making money. I took on design work and odd jobs, earning enough not just to cover my tuition and living expenses, but to save a little extra.

But I never kept it. I used it to subsidize Scott.

He had told me his parents were farmers. In the winter, their income relied entirely on selling stored vegetables. With a younger brother in high school, every penny counted.

The first time I spent money on him was a night he walked me back to the dorms. He received a call from home, and his face went pale.

His mother was crying on the other end. His father had suddenly fallen ill, and the medical bills alone would cost over a thousand dollars. His family didn't have it. Desperate, they asked Scott what to do.

I watched him grit his teeth and transfer every cent of his earnings to them, leaving himself with only three hundred dollars to survive the month.

Yet even then, he had managed to buy me a Christmas gift—a single apple, tied with a ribbon.

"I can't afford anything better this year," he had said, his eyes full of apology. "I'm giving you this apple, hoping you'll always be safe and sound."

At the time, my heart had ached for him. I knew that back at school, he couldn't even bear to buy decent food, surviving on the cheapest cafeteria meals just to help his family.

I thought he was a saint. I didn't know I was feeding a wolf.