I Bought His Rival

I just dropped enough money to buy a house on my boyfriends livestream, and he looks like he wants to kill me.

The comments section is a war zone. Strangers are calling me a toxic sugar mommy and a manipulative witch. Apparently, my 500 Ferraris are an insult to his dignity, while the single, one-cent rose from that shy, "innocent" girl is the definition of true love.

"Stop trying to buy me!" he screams at the camera, his eyes filled with righteous fury. "I don't want your money. I want real support!"

Wow. Okay. Message received.

If I'm the villainess blocking his fairytale romance, I'll gladly step aside. I type a single word in the chat: Done.

But Im not leaving with a refund.

I swipe left to his teammatethe hot new guy standing awkwardly in the corner. My finger hovers over the "Universe" gift.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Five hundred Universes explode across the screen, drowning out the hate. The entire internet freezes. And my ex? The regret on his face is priceless.

Chapter 1

It took me a long moment to process what I was seeing.

Caleb was the male lead of this world.

My roommate, Chloe, was the female lead.

And me?

I was the oblivious, "evil" villainess standing between them.

While I stood there, frozen, the comments kept scrolling, practically vibrating with rage.

[Sending hugs to our poor female lead. She skipped dinner three nights in a row just to save up for that tip. Im literally sobbing.]

[The villainess is so toxic. Caleb told her not to show off with huge donations, but she just had to flex her money. Now our precious female lead is crying her eyes out because she feels so inferior.]

[Theyre both kids who made it out of the mountains. Only the male and female leads can truly save each other.]

[So what if the villainess helped him win the Battle? Look at him. Hes not smiling. His heart is breaking for the female lead right now.]

[The plot was supposed to be them confessing their hidden love in front of everyone! Their first real moment of connection, ruined by that evil bitch!]

[]

I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to clear my head of this toxic, nonsensical plot.

But the decision came easily.

I hadn't known any of this before. But now that I knew the truth, there was no way in hell I was going to keep throwing myself at him.

"Why aren't you talking? Trying to space out and ignore me again? Chloe has a lot of pride. She's probably hiding somewhere crying right now. If you don't want to break up, go apologize to her personally. Once she forgives you, then come talk to me." Caleb's stern voice snapped me back to reality.

I didn't hesitate. "Okay." Just to be clear, I added: "I agree to the breakup."

At the exact same moment, his voice barked: "Then go apologize immediately, and make sure you sound sincere!"

Our voices overlapped. He missed my words entirely.

He paused, then snapped back, his tone sharp. "Fallon, what is your problem? You messed up, and now you're throwing a tantrum?"

I cut him off. "I said, you wanted to break up. I agree."

Silence on the other end. Three seconds of dead air.

Then, a soft, mocking laugh. "Okay. Good. Have it your way. Keep being stubborn. But when this actually ends, don't blame me for being heartless."

I didn't have anything else to say.

I hummed a low assent, ready to hang up.

Just before the line cut, his voice came through, gritted teeth and all. "Fallon, think this through. Don't come crying to me later when you regret it!"

I didn't answer.

Maybe I suck at love.

When I like someone, I just want to give them everything I have.

I had thought Caleb was struggling. I had thought he needed money. That was why he started doing group livestreamssomething he used to look down on.

But now, I knew better.

He didn't want my shallow love, piled up with cash. He despised it.

I hung up and immediately told the housekeeper to go to the convenience store and buy two massive, heavy-duty trash bags.

All the suitcases in the house were custom Herms.

Caleb didn't deserve them.

I stood there and watched as the housekeeper packed his things, item by item.

I made sure she didn't pack a single luxury item I had given him. They were too vain. They would only hurt his fragile ego.

He wasn't taking a single one.

Chapter 2

I walked through the sprawling penthouse I shared with Caleb.

Downtown. Prime real estate. Every square inch screamed money.

Id curated every corner to his taste. Hand-picked furniture. Custom art. If Id known every day here felt like a prison to him, I wouldve let this place rot on the market.

I shouldnt have bought it. Shouldnt have begged him to move in.

I scoffed, angry at myself, but my throat tightened. A burning sensation pricked behind my eyes. I blinked hard, fighting the sting.

Three years.

Three years of history, sitting heavy in my chest. It hurt.

Hed threatened to leave a dozen times before, for a million different reasons.

But this time? The silence in the room told me everything. There was no coming back.

I watched the comments scroll. A waterfall of malice.

[Why hasn't the villainess apologized to our baby Chloe yet? Does she think crying and screaming will work on the male lead?]

[What is she doing now? Does she have zero self-awareness?]

[If her family didn't have money, if she hadn't paid his tuition when he was broke, does she really think hed look at her twice?]

[She doesn't get it. Every dollar, every giftits just a reminder that shes a disgusting capitalist buying him. Its humiliating.]

[The male lead hates the wealth gap. He despises everything she stands for.]

[Does she think he wants to live in this cold, empty museum? He dreams of a cozy one-bedroom with Chloe. Simple happiness. The villainess will never understand that.]

I tried to look away, but the words burned into my retinas. Gaslighting at its finest.

If Caleb hated my help so much, why did he take it?

Every. Single. Time.

He never said no. Not once.

He chased me for a year before we got together.

He came from nothing. Getting into the Academy was a miracle for a kid from his background.

Once we were together, I covered everything.

Tuition. A $7,000 monthly allowance. Another $70,000 a year for skincare and wardrobe.

Location shoots, acting workshopsI paid for it all. Five-star hotels. A personal assistant on standby.

None of that came out of his allowance.

Caleb never asked. Oh no, he had too much "pride" for that.

He didn't have to ask.

I just wired the money.

Even when he ordered expensive takeout on set, Id Venmo him the cash before the food arrived.

I thought I was being supportive. I thought I was loving him.

I had a savior complex, thinking I could fix his broken world with my checkbook.

Turns out, I was just a golden cage he despised.

It all made sense now.

The secrecy at school. He said he wanted to avoid rumors, didn't want people thinking he was a gold digger.

We never studied in the library together. Never ate in the cafeteria. We were ghosts in public.

No wonder he skipped the indie circuit, skipped the grind of auditioning in LA. He signed that livestreaming contract instead. Quick cash. Fast fame.

And no wonder he exploded every time I dropped a few grand on a gift in his stream.

He didn't smile. He sulked.

Like Id slapped him.

Like I was a stain on his reputation.

Like I shouldn't be in his chat.

Shouldn't be in his life at all.

Chapter 3

My money was poison to him. It was the source of his shame. The root of all evil attacking his fragile ego.

Everything clicked.

Ha.

Well, good.

The burden was gone. He was free to chase his "true happiness" now.

The thought should have been liberating. Instead, a dull ache spread through my chest. I felt pathetic.

Rage simmered in my gut, but my eyes betrayed me. A hot sting blurred my vision. Tears spilled over, uninvited, tracking down my cheeks.

The housekeeper dropped two massive, cheap woven bags in the foyer.

I turned around just as the front door beeped.

Caleb stood there, his face twisted in anger. "Fallon, what the hell is this?"

He jabbed a finger at the bulging black sacks. His composure cracked.

Right. Forgot to change the door code.

He saw my tears. He saw the silence. He misread it all.

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a long, dramatic sigh. His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. "It's 5 AM. I just finished streaming. I'm exhausted. Don't start this again."

He brushed past me, gripping the limited-edition Herms bag Id gifted him yesterday like he owned the place.

I moved. Fast.

I stepped into his path, blocking the hallway.

The comments in my heador maybe on the screen I couldn't seescreamed louder.

[Is she tired yet? Staging a scene in the middle of the night? She's just threatening him to get attention. What a drama queen.]

[Don't worry, the male lead isn't buying it. Even if she knelt and begged, he'd just think she's pathetic. His heart belongs to the female lead.]

[If she wants to break up so bad, fine. Let her. The male lead should just agree so he can stop dealing with her crazy ass and go live his sweet life with Chloe. Love conquers all.]

[]

A dry laugh bubbled up in my throat. I cleared it away.

"The housekeeper packed your crap. It's all there. Check it if you want. Car keys. Now. I'm changing the door code immediately. As for the money I spent on you? Consider it charity. I spend more on my dogs kibble in a year anyway. I assume you don't want to see my face again. We'll delete each other's contacts. We're done."

Caleb had one fatal weakness.

His ego. It was massive, and it was fragile.

My words hit their mark. He froze. He couldn't take another step into the apartment.

Shock plastered his face.

But it didn't last. The cold mask slipped back into place. He let out a scoff. "Fallon, are you really trying to blow this up?"

He stepped closer, looming over me. "Have you thought about the consequences?"

I wiped my face. I forced my breathing to steady. "I thought I was clear on the phone. But since you're slow: We. Are. Broken. Up."

Caleb stared at me for a beat. Then, he laughed. A cruel, mocking sound.

"You have no idea, do you? Just because you refused to apologize to Chloe, she cried all night. I went to her dorm after the stream and held her for hours. Do you even realize what you did wrong? Ha. Of course you don't. You never do."

He continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "To you, dropping 500 sports cars is nothing. It's the price of a Chanel bag. It's pocket change you find in your couch cushions. You don't care."

"But for Chloe? She skipped dinner for three days to boost my stream. She almost passed out from hunger. Do you know how many shifts she had to work at the boba shop to save that money?"

"But you just had to see her 500 roses and crush her with 500 Ferraris. You just had to mock her poverty. You out-of-touch princess. You live in a bubble. You still don't have a clue why I'm actually mad."

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. My mind went blank.

Chapter 4

The streaming studio is an hours drive from Chloes dorm.

He finished broadcasting at 2 AM. He drove all that way just to "comfort" her?

And he still claims theyre just friends?

Gaslighting 101.

And the donation drama? How the hell was I supposed to know which account was hers? How was I supposed to know about their little roleplay foreplay?

I only dropped the cars because he was getting crushed in the Battle. I couldn't watch him lose.

I wanted to scream this at him. I wanted to shake him.

But the words died in my throat.

I was drained. Bone-deep exhaustion weighed me down.

Caleb waited for a reaction. I gave him nothing.

Furious at my silence, he spun around, grabbed the trash bags, and marched into the elevator.

Just before the doors slid shut, he threw one last dagger over his shoulder. "Fallon, I don't know what happens after I walk out this door. But remember this: You pushed me to Chloe."

Excuse me?

He broke up with me.

Now it's my fault he's running to her?

It was always the same script. He was the saint, the tortured artist. I was the sinner, the oppressor.

Even my help, my generosityin his twisted mind, they were just seeds of hatred.

And I kept bowing my head. Apologizing. Moving mountains for a man who despised me.

I felt pathetic.

I collapsed onto the bed. Dawn was breaking, painting the room in cold, gray light.

Sleep was impossible. My brain was wired, buzzing with static. I grabbed my phone. Doomscrolling.

6:30 AM.

A new post from Chloe.

[Grateful I never gave up. Grateful you understand my heart. And grateful to someone for being blind enough to finally give you back to me.]

The photo.

A five-star hotel suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows. The city skyline blurring in the background.

It was a Live Photo.

Caleb. Shirtless. Back to the camera.

I knew that spine. I knew the curve of those shoulders.

Chloe faced the lens. She wore a sheer slip, barely there. Caleb's arms crushed her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her face was flushed, eyes heavy with lust.

The Live Photo played on a loop.

A kiss. Messy. Desperate. Tangled tongues and hungry hands. They looked like they were devouring each other.

The anger didn't just vanish. It turned into pure, unadulterated ick.

How did I ever want this leech? My best friend was right. I had filet mignon at home, but I went dumpster diving for a hot dog.

The comments section went feral.

[OMG, the sugar rush! I'm screaming!]

[Finally! My babies are together! True love wins!]

[Thank you, villainess, for being the catalyst! If you hadn't pushed him, he wouldn't have realized who he truly loves!]

[Now he can focus on being a top influencer for our girl! Sweet romance arc starts NOW!]

Ha.

I wasn't sad. I was nauseous. Bile rose in my throat.

He talks a big game about independence. About "making it on his own."

So why did the notification for that hotel room hit my credit card?

The Presidential Suite. Five stars. Racking up a $30,000 bill for one night.

Shouldn't the "independent man" pay for his own sin?

And there it was.

In the corner of the frame. "Accidentally" visible on the nightstand.

My Herms Kelly.

The custom one my mom gave me for my birthday two years ago.

Did Caleb think I had so many bags I wouldn't notice one missing? Did he think all leather looked the same?

Idiot. That skin was rare. That color was bespoke.

I dialed Lane. "Cut the card. Now."

Then I dialed 911.

"I'd like to report a theft. A bag worth sixty thousand dollars is missing from my home."

Chapter 5

The police were efficient. I sent them the screenshotthe "couple goals" photo with my stolen property in the background.

By 7 AM, they were knocking on the hotel suite door.

The hallway was a circus. The manager, housekeeping, and a crowd of nosy guests were all watching the show.

Caleb and Chloe stood in the doorway, wrapped in plush hotel robes, dark circles under their eyes.

They were confused. But mostly, they were entitled.

"I want to file a complaint! Do you just let anyone harass VIP guests in the Presidential Suite?"

"Yeah, do you realize one night here costs more than you make in a year?"

The officers looked unimpressed.

One stepped forward, stone-faced. "Caleb? Your ex-girlfriend reported a theft. A bag worth sixty thousand dollars. It's in the photo you posted last night."

Chloe froze. Her jaw dropped as she turned to stare at Caleb.

The comments section exploded again.

[Seriously? The villainess is so petty. It's just a bag. Why involve the cops?]

[Exactly. The male lead probably didn't know it cost that much. She has hundreds of bags collecting dust. He was just putting it to good use.]

[My heart breaks for the female lead. That one bag costs more than her family's house. The villainess tosses it aside like trash while Chloe works her whole life for nothing. How can she be so cruel?]

[They were dating! Taking a bag isn't stealing! She's just using her dirty money to humiliate him.]

[]

Faced with the accusation, Caleb flushed crimson. He looked guilty as hell, but he doubled down. Deny, deny, deny.

Seeing his confidence, Chloe relaxed. She switched to attack mode, throwing shade at me.

She told the police I was just a jealous ex. That I saw them together, snapped, and framed her out of spite.

Caleb jumped on the bandwagon, threatening to sue me for defamation.

The officer cut through the noise. "Can you provide a receipt for the bag?"

Caleb stammered. He stuttered. He had nothing.

The officer picked up the bag. Following my instructions, he opened it and checked the interior lining.

There it was. My initials, custom embossed: Fallon.

Panic flashed in Caleb's eyes.

He pivoted. "She gave it to me! It was a gift! It's not theft!"

"Can you prove that?"

He couldn't.

He started blowing up my phone