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 handthe notarized inheritance papers I had just receivedand 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 gifta 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.

I hesitated before handing him the thousand dollars.

"Take it. You can't let yourself starve."

Scott pushed my hand away. "No, I can't spend my girlfriend's money. Don't worry about me, Ellie. I'm fine."

Fineyet his stomach growled loud enough to echo off the walls. I knew the truth: he was rationing himself to one meal a day, terrified of depleting his funds.

My heart ached. I untied the red ribbon from a gift apple and wrapped it around the cash.

"Consider this my Christmas present," I said, pressing it into his palm. "Please. Just take it."

Tears welled in his eyes. He pulled me close, voice trembling against my ear. "Ellie, I swear... one day, I'll give you the life you deserve."

That became our pattern. Whenever Scott hit a rough patch, I covered him. In return, he'd act profoundly moved, shower me with affection, and stack promises about our future like bricks in a house we'd never build.

For two years, our Christmases had been frugal. But this year was different.

His parents were visiting, and I'd just received an unexpected windfallan inheritance so massive it made winning the lottery look like pocket change.

I couldn't wait to share the news. I went on a shopping spree and booked a suite at a luxury hotel. Our days of struggle were finally over.

Full of anticipation, I arrived at the upscale restaurant we'd always dreamed of but could never afford. I sat in my reserved booth, scrolling through my phone, waiting for Scott's message that he'd picked up his parents.

The message never came. The people did.

The Whitney family walked inbut they weren't alone.

A fourth person accompanied them. A young woman. My breath caught when I saw her outfit. She was wearing the exact clothes I'd ordered online weeks agoa package the tracking service claimed had been lost.

She linked arms with my boyfriend, chatting and laughing with his parents like she belonged there.

My first instinct was to storm over and demand answers. But doubt held me back. What if I'm misunderstanding? I swallowed the rising bile and sank lower in my seat.

The hostess led them to the booth directly behind mine. Only a high-backed bench separated us.

"Mom, Dad, why'd you bring Fanny today?" Scott's voice drifted over, hushed but clear. "Didn't we agree you wouldn't come on Christmas? I still need to coax some money out of Eleanor."

I froze. Coax money?

His mother's voice followed, cheerful and unbothered. "What are you afraid of? We brought Fanny so she could stay here a few days." Her tone sharpened. "Besides, we need to talk sense into you. Do not fall for that woman. What kind of background does she have?"

"Exactly," his father scoffed. "Her adoptive parents raised her until eighteen and then washed their hands of her. Yet she still sends them money every month to 'repay their kindness.' Stupid. Fanny's differenther family runs a business. They have connections."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Scott replied, dismissive. "Someone who grew up in that kind of environment... who knows how twisted her psychology is? I could never marry her."

The words hit like a blow. The air left my lungs.

It was true. My biological parents had abandoned me. My adoptive family had two children of their own; they provided for me until eighteen but made clear their obligation ended there. I was grateful, so I never asked for support in college.

When I'd first told Scott about my past, his reaction had been entirely different.

I remembered the way he'd looked at meeyes full of tender heartache. It's okay, he'd said. After we graduate, we'll get married. You'll have a family forever.

To an orphan like me, that promise was more intoxicating than any declaration of love. My adoptive parents had always been honest about their bias toward their own children. I respected them, but I never felt I truly belonged.

Scott had promised to fill that void.

Now, hearing him call me "twisted" while plotting to drain my account, I felt the illusion shatter.

Scott had always felt like a sanctuary to me.

That was why I had sacrificed so muchscrimping, saving, and sufferingjust to keep him afloat. I truly believed I was building a future, cultivating a family of my own.

But the scene unfolding before me shattered that illusion.

"Just remember who really matters," Scott's mother lectured, her voice low. "Fanny has waited years for you. Once you grab that diploma, dump that city woman and come home to marry Fanny."

Scott hummed in agreement as the waiter approached. He ordered with abandon, pointing at the priciest dishes on the menu. When his parents advised frugality, he waved them off.

"Relax. I'm loaded."

Once the waiter retreated, Scott leaned in, his voice dripping with smugness I'd never heard before. "It's Christmas. Eleanor knows I send money home this time of year, so she wired me an extra thousand today."

His parents exchanged shocked glances. "How does she make that much?" his father asked, eyes narrowing. "Is she doing something dirty on the side? Looking at the photos you sent... she doesn't look like a decent girl."

Rage boiled in my gut. My hands trembled under the table.

I was the top student in my department, a recognized talent. Yet simply because I was attractive, they assumed I was selling my body?

"She's a top design student," Scott explained, though his tone lacked any real defense. "One sketch fetches a few thousand, easy."

A fair explanationbut his next words poured salt into the wound.

"Anyway, order whatever you want. Eleanor is usually too cheap to bring me to a place like this."

The restaurant was a popular spot near campusmid-range for most, but a luxury I couldn't afford. Between maintaining my scholarship, freelance work, and sending money to my foster parents, every cent was accounted for. I starved myself to subsidize Scott.

And here he was, burning through my hard-earned cash to feed the very people plotting my downfall.

Bile rose in my throat.

I gripped my phone, staring at the notification from the notary office. The staggering inheritance was the only thing keeping me from flipping the tablea parting gift from my biological parents, divine intervention revealing Scott's true face before it was too late.

Just as I debated confronting him, his father spoke again, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"If that woman is so good at making money, squeeze her for more. Have you heard of those online loans? Use her information to take some out. Your brother needs tuition money, too."

Scott didn't object. Beside him, Fanny seized the moment, pressing against his arm.

"Scott," she whispered, sickeningly sweet. "Mom and Dad booked a hotel for us nearby. I... I'm ovulating right now."

Her shy admission clarified exactly what kind of people I was dealing witharchaic, feudal, morally bankrupt. And the fact that Scott didn't pull away meant he was exactly the same.

A twisted sense of gratitude washed over me. Thank god I was witnessing this today.

What will you do, Scott?

"We can talk about the breakup later," he said finally.

He hadn't rejected Fanny's obvious invitation. But his next sentence revealed a level of calculation that made my blood run cold.

"I've almost convinced Eleanor to sleep with me. Once I take her virginity, she'll be trapped. I'll string her along after graduation to keep the cash flowing. Even if you give birth to a son, Fanny, we'll need someone to pay for the formula. It's the most cost-effective way."

A chill settled deep in my bones.

I had never realized a human face could hide such rot.

I stared at the notary documents on my phone, the legal text blurring as laughter erupted from the next booth. They were already celebrating a future funded by my money.

A cold knot of hatred tightened in my chest.

Breaking up with Scott wasn't enough. I wanted restitution. I wanted to claw back every cent I'd wasted on him.

More than that, I wanted to ensure that once I was done with him, he'd never crawl out of the hole I dug.

I finished my meal in silence. Once the trio left, I paid and shadowed them into the night.

I watched from a distance as Scott and Fanny disappeared into a cheap motel near campus. The neon sign flickered ominously. It was the exact same place Scott had tried to lure me years ago.

The memory hit me, bitter and sharp.

Back then, Scott had just gotten paid from a part-time gig. He'd taken me to a KTV, where we sang until we missed curfew.

He'd gripped my hand outside this very motel, putting on his most earnest face. "Eleanor, I know it looks rough, but it's better than the street. We can make do for one night."

I'd hesitated, uncomfortable with the grime coating the windows.

Sensing my reluctance, he'd pivoted to the gentleman act. "I just want you to rest. I promise, no other intentions. You take the bed. I'll sit in the chairor wait outside."

I was naive enough to believe he was just broke but trying. I couldn't bear the thought of him suffering, so I'd dragged him to a 24-hour internet caf instead.

I spent that night reviewing notes under harsh fluorescent lights. Scott sat beside me gaming, but he kept glancing over, sighing. "El, if the chair's too hard, we can still go to the motel. I just want you comfortable."

I'd smiled, touched by his "concern." "It's fine, really. This gives me extra study time."

Looking back, I'd been such a fool. He hadn't been concerned about my comforthe'd been frustrated his cheap plan to get me into bed had failed.

I shook off the past and checked my phone.

I wasn't going to an internet caf tonight. I hailed a cab to the finest hotel in the district.

Lying on plush, high-thread-count sheets, a realization hit me.

My money should be for my enjoyment.

Scrimping to support a man was the height of stupidity.

I took a long, hot shower, scrubbing away the grime of the day. When I emerged wrapped in a fluffy robe, I checked my phone. Scott had blown it up.

I scrolled through the barrage of missed calls and texts.

Where are you?

I'm done with family stuff.

Let me take you shopping.

He was anxious. Good.

After letting him stew, I selected a screenshot I'd prepareda partial view of the inheritance transferand hit send.

I followed it with: The notary office contacted me. My biological parents died in an accident. They left everything to me. I've been handling the procedures.

The backstory was tragic, though I felt little grief. My biological parents had spent years searching for me after my grandmother abandoned me for being a girl. My adoptive parents' struggle to conceive had sparked their search.

They'd found me eventually and begged me to come home, but I'd refused. Stubborn.

Who could have predicted an accident would claim them both, leaving their entire estate to the daughter who wouldn't even visit? The notary's notification arrived the very day I'd planned to reject them for good.

Scott knew about my adoption. Not the wealth.

I imagined him staring at that screenshot, greed flaring in his eyes, pupils dilating at the zeroes.

His reply came seconds later.

Where are you? I'm coming right now.

I didn't give my location. Still with the legal team regarding the company acquisition. It's complicated.

He pivoted instantly, his text oozing fake concern. Don't rush. Take it slow. Just be safe, okay? Let me know if you need help.

He didn't ask about the company details. Not yet. The old me would've thought he was being respectful. Now I knew betterhe was recalibrating. He needed to solidify his position as "supportive boyfriend" before making his move on the assets.

I went silent for two days.

Let him panic. Let him wonder if his golden goose was flying away.

When I resurfaced, he messaged immediately. My parents haven't left yet. They really want to meet you properly. Dinner?

A cold smile crossed my lips. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Scott chose the venuea restaurant with exorbitant prices and a reputation for luxury.

When we sat down, his parents snatched the menus. They didn't read the descriptionsjust scanned for the highest prices and pointed.

"We'll take this," his mother said, tapping the most expensive seafood platter. "And this. And a bottle of that red wine."

They ordered like royalty, confident the bill wasn't their problem.

I kept a plaster smile throughout the entire ordeal. No matter what extravagant dish they pointed to, I nodded. Truffles? Abalone? Imported wine?

"Order whatever you like," I said, watching them gorge themselves.

Midway through the meal, Mrs. Whitney finally stopped eating long enough to probe for what she actually cared about.

"So, the company your parents left youhave you finished the paperwork? I heard it's quite substantial. The inheritance must be... significant."

I glanced at Scott. The screenshot I'd sent him earlier showed a bank balance in the tens of thousandsa deliberate lowball. In reality, the liquid assets alone totaled thirty million, not counting the real estate.

"What exactly does this company do?" Mrs. Whitney pressed, grease shining on her lips. "Is it fully yours now?"

I took a delicate bite, masking my disgust as naked greed flared in her eyes.

"It's a tech startup," I lied smoothly. "I have the inheritance rights, yes. But the management... I'm still waiting on the shareholders. I'm thinking of selling some equity to the board. Might be easier to hold a minority stake and live off dividends."

The effect was instantaneous. Scott's parents exchanged looks of pure, predatory hunger.

Mrs. Whitney practically vibrated. "My son is truly blessed to have a girlfriend like you. Sensible and wealthy. You brought your ID, didn't you? Today's an auspicious date. Why don't you two head to the courthouse right now?"

There it was. The Whitney family's strategy to swallow my inheritance whole, laid bare.

I blinked innocently. "Not today, Auntie. I have to rush back to the office after this. My parents' company generates huge profits, and several shareholders are fighting to buy me out. I need to be there for negotiations."

Greed makes people stupid. They wouldn't risk upsetting the golden goose while the money was still being counted.

I finished my meal slowly, watching them mentally spend my fortune. When I was done, I grabbed my purse and stood.

"Uncle, Auntie, I have to run. The board's waiting."

They beamed, practically pushing me out the door to secure "their" fortune. But after closing the private room door, I didn't leave. I slipped into the empty room next door, put on my headphones, and connected to the Bluetooth recorder I'd left under their table.

Their voices came through crystal clear.

"She's actually that rich," Mrs. Whitney marveled. "A company that size... she must have properties, cars, everything. Son, you absolutely have to lock this down."

Scott's voice dripped with arrogance. "Don't worry, Mom. She loves me to death. I could snap my fingers right now, and she'd drop a multi-million dollar meeting just to come back. I have her completely under my thumb."

I scoffed silently.

"Keep things normal with Fanny for now," Mrs. Whitney instructed, her tone dropping to a whisper. "Once you marry Eleanor and get the assets, we're set. Even if Fanny finds out later, or Eleanor finds out about her, who cares? Divorce takes time. If Eleanor tries to leave, we'll squeeze half her property first. Enough for our whole family to live like kings."

"What's a little property settlement?" Scott scoffed. "I want the company. I want to be CEO. That's better than a one-time payout. I want control."

I knew it.

Scott wasn't just a leechhe was a parasite looking to take over the host. Even knowing his true colors, hearing him plot to usurp my parents' legacy made my blood run cold.

He truly never disappointed my lowest expectations.

I waited until sounds of movement indicated they were leaving, retrieved my recorder, then made my way to the exit.

By the time I reached the lobby, the show had started. The Whitneys were surrounded by staff at the front desk.

"Three thousand dollars?!" Scott shrieked, his voice cracking. "What dishes cost three thousand dollars? Are you robbing us?"