Rewriting The Billionaires Dark Fate Chapter 1

Brianna Harrington, my obscenely wealthy roommate and the undisputed queen bee of our campus, loved nothing more than tormenting her boyfriend, Rae. To the rest of the world, Rae Caldwell was just a penniless, crippled charity case.

And once again, Brianna had ordered me to tip his wheelchair over and kick him into the freezing, bone-chilling waters of the campus lake.

But as I raised my hands to do it, a stream of glowing, translucent text suddenly scrolled across my field of vision, hovering in the winter air like a glitch in reality.

[The spoiled heiress FMC and the secretly-a-billionaire-heir MMC… this is my favorite toxic trope!]

[The worse our female lead treats him now, the harder the spicy groveling scenes will be later. It’s just a shame about that pretty little extra. Doesn’t she know the MMC is going to take out all his repressed rage on her? She’s going to die a gruesome death.]

[Hey, it’s her own fault for being greedy and doing the villain’s dirty work for cash. She deserves what’s coming to her.]

[This is the turning point! He almost drowns here, finally gives up his 'poor and crippled' act—which was just a test to see if the FMC would love him at his worst—and reclaims his empire to force her into a dark romance.]

My hands froze mid-air. The icy wind bit at my cheeks.

I looked at the dark, churning water, then at Rae’s rigid, shivering form.

I didn't want to be the disposable extra. I wanted to be the main character.

Without a second thought, I threw myself into the freezing lake, hauled Rae’s thrashing body to the surface, and dragged him all the way back to my dirt-cheap basement apartment.

* * *

Rae was unconscious for a long time. When he finally opened his eyes, I was boiling tap water in a battered, salvaged pot to dissolve a cheap fever reducer.

A cockroach scuttled across the concrete floor near his foot. The leg that was supposedly paralyzed gave an involuntary twitch. He nearly performed a medical miracle and jumped right out of the bed.

I pretended I didn't see a thing. I brought the mug of dissolved medicine to his lips, my expression a mask of nervous guilt.

"Your fever is really high. Please, drink this."

Rae’s face was flushed an unnatural, feverish red, but it didn't stop him from swatting the mug away. It shattered against the wall. He opened his cracked lips to snarl something, but I beat him to the punch.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry I pushed you into the lake."

My eyes were bloodshot, but I forced a fragile, trembling smile.

"I know a simple apology doesn't make up for what I did. But please... just let me take care of you until this fever breaks. Let me try to make amends."

My hands were shaking violently. Rae’s dark, calculating eyes swept over the damp, dimly lit basement, finally settling on my flushed cheeks.

"You're burning up too," he noted, his voice a hoarse rasp.

I widened my eyes in feigned surprise, then shook my head. "That was the last fever pill I had. You need it more."

"Drop the act." Rae let out a cold, breathless scoff. "Every time you help Brianna humiliate me, she pays you. You've racked up quite a bit of cash by now. Don't tell me you can't afford a bottle of Tylenol."

My spine stiffened. Of course he knew. He was the sole heir to the Caldwell empire, the most ruthless family in the corporate world. Tracking the few hundred bucks Brianna threw at me was child's play for him.

Looking at the sneer forming in his eyes, I remembered the floating text. After this incident, Rae was supposed to shed his disguise and ascend his throne. Once he was back in his penthouse, a girl like me would never get within a mile of him. This was my one and only window.

I lowered my head, staring at my frayed sneakers. "That money... it has to go somewhere more important."

Rae rolled his eyes, his patience exhausted. He braced his arms against the mattress, preparing to stand up and walk right out the door. But a second later, his arms gave out. He collapsed back onto the cheap sheets, half-conscious. He blinked, fighting to stay awake, but his body refused to obey.

I watched him slip under, giving a satisfied little nod. Then, I pulled an empty syringe from my pocket, snapped the needle, and tossed it into the trash.

He was right. Brianna's money did have more important uses. Like buying a heavy-duty muscle relaxant on the black market.

As I struggled to carry Rae’s dead weight on my back, hauling him out of the basement and toward the nearest hospital, I made sure to cry hysterically, begging him to stay with me. The glowing text above my head was having a meltdown.

[Is this extra insane?! She pushed him in and then pulled him out, and now she’s made him completely miss his family's extraction team! He can't get his identity back right now! How is he supposed to do the dark romance trope with our FMC?]

[She’s literally broke. What’s the point of dragging him to a hospital? She’s going to accidentally kill him!]

I didn't have money, true. But I had blood.

I dropped to my knees in the ER lobby, Rae’s scorching body sliding off my back. I grabbed the triage doctor’s coat, rolling up my sleeve to reveal a map of faded puncture marks.

"I'm due to donate! Take my blood!" I sobbed, my voice cracking. "Do whatever you have to do, just please save him. I can't lose him. I can't."

The doctor looked utterly conflicted. "June, you’re already severely malnourished. You donate plasma every month just to keep your mother’s life support running. You finally paid this month's installment early, you don't need to do this... why do this for a stranger?"

"It's what I owe him," I cut him off, my voice dropping to a desperate whisper.

The doctor sighed a heavy, defeated sigh and called for the nurses.

I endured the dizzying, nauseating pull of the blood leaving my veins. Afterward, weak and shivering, I sat by Rae’s hospital bed. I held his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing his jawline.

"You have to get better, Rae," I whispered into the quiet room. "As long as you wake up, I don't care if they drain me dry."

Eventually, the sheer exhaustion and blood loss pulled me under. I collapsed with my head resting on the edge of his mattress.

When I woke up, the room was pitch black, save for the glow of the streetlights outside. I blinked sluggishly, realizing someone had draped a heavy jacket over my shoulders.

Rae was sitting up, leaning against the pillows, scrolling through his phone. He lowered the device, his gaze pinning me to the spot—dark, unreadable, and heavy.

Instinctively, I reached out to press the back of my hand against his forehead. His skin was cool. The fever had broken. I let out a massive breath of relief.

"Are you hungry? I'll go find the cafeteria," I said, scrambling to stand.

A wave of vertigo hit me hard. I stumbled.

A strong, calloused hand clamped around my wrist, steadying me. He didn't let go.

"You almost drowned me, and then you almost killed yourself to save me." His voice was low, vibrating with suspicion. "What exactly is your endgame here, June?"