The Billionaire Who Wasn't Mine

The phone felt cold against my ear, a stark contrast to the Texas heat.

My fiancée Jennifer' s voice, usually sweet, was sharp and demanding.

"Ethan, I need $100,000 for the influencer party in Miami.

Wes says it' s our big break. It' s an advance on our wedding fund!"

My heart stopped. This was it. The exact moment. In my last life, this call was the beginning of the end.

I remembered giving in then, selling my classic Mustang, draining my 401k, even taking out a high-interest loan – all to cover the hole she blew in our company' s marketing budget that could have sent her to prison.