The Thirty-Million Dollar Wager Chapter 1

I stumbled upon a post online.

[I've been chatting with my crush online for three months, only to find out I've actually been talking to his girlfriend the whole time.]

I complained about it to my best friend, but her eyes nervously darted away.

That very night, I caught her making out with Ezra.

She told him: "Don't tell her we're dating. I don't want to break her heart."

A group of wealthy heirs laughed and made a bet that I would willingly become his side piece.

I pretended not to know anything. Dropping my usual conservative style, I publicly announced that I would confess to my crush in exactly one month.

The game of hearts had officially begun.

* * *

"Babe, when are you going to confess to Ezra?" Chloe asked, resting her chin on her hand. Her bright red nails looked like snake tongues.

I looked at the sexy black lingerie in her other hand, raised an eyebrow, and replied, "In a month. We'll talk about it after you get back from your trip abroad."

Chloe grinned at me, hooking a finger under the lingerie strap. "You complimented this set last time, so I bought it. I'm going to try it on today. You better not run off with a man behind my back! I have to be there when you confess!"

I nodded in agreement, my smile as gentle and mild as ever.

Chloe didn't suspect a thing.

In her eyes, I was never a threat.

After all, I always listened to her.

Back then, she had said, "Babe, you're so pretty. You don't even need makeup. You have that natural, 'girl-next-door' beauty. Ezra is definitely into your type!"

So, I followed her advice. I straightened my gorgeous, wavy hair, wore thick, nerdy glasses, and dressed in baggy clothes that hid my figure. Like an ugly duckling, I played the perfect foil to her for three whole months.

During those three months, I played the role of the clueless, plain friend perfectly, making her look like a blooming, exquisite rose by comparison.

Chloe looked at my drab outfit, her eyes lingering on the faint, artificially darkened spots on my face. Her smile deepened as she pinched my earlobe. "There's a party tomorrow night, and Ezra will be there. There'll be a lot of people, and I know you're timid. If anything happens, just tell me."

I obediently replied, "Okay."

With a crisp click of the door, the scent of rose perfume and the click-clack of her heels faded away.

Chloe was a fantastic actress. If I hadn't accidentally caught her straddling Ezra's lap, begging for a kiss, I probably would have genuinely believed she had my best interests at heart.

I opened the video saved on my phone. The deafening club music assaulted my eardrums.

Ezra hooked a finger under her slip dress strap. The look in his eyes was pure lust—a stark contrast to the aloof, untouchable persona he maintained at school.

The burgundy dress hitched up, revealing a large expanse of pale skin. The crowd went wild, cheering and screaming.

"Kiss! Kiss!"

"If the little blockhead saw this, she'd be heartbroken."

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

"Why even bring her up? She's so boring. She's impossible to invite out, always acting so high and mighty. She's nothing compared to Chloe."

The "little blockhead" they were talking about was me.

I opened my phone and scrolled through my recent chat history with Ezra.

Five minutes ago, he had taken a moment to send a cute cat sticker that said "Goodnight."

I scrolled through our three months of messages, comparing their use of stickers and speech patterns, confirming one thing.

All these flirtatious messages were sent by Chloe.

Because Chloe liked breaking long sentences into multiple texts and always used stickers.

When Ezra texted people, he preferred sending complete sentences with proper punctuation.

Every single one of them knew the truth. They were all just hiding it from me.