The Catfish Trap: Stealing Her Billionaires

I had just made up my mind to sell myself to a greasy older man when glowing lines of text materialized in thin air.

[God, this cannon fodder side character is so stupid. All her roommates used her photos to catfish wealthy heirs, and she is actually settling for a literal creep.]

[She ends up catching an STI from the old man and jumping off a building.]

[Our female lead is the smart one. To keep the side character from finding out, she didn't just do it herselfshe dragged the other two roommates into the scheme.]

[The craziest part is the three guys are childhood best friends. LMAO. They all dated behind each other's backs. If they just compared notes for one second.]

[But all three end up falling for the female lead anyway. Proves they loved her soul, not just the side character's face.]

My lungs seized. The air in the room suddenly felt too thin.

Behind me, the excited chatter of my three roommates echoed as they showed off the luxury gifts their online boyfriends had sent. Tiffany called out to me, lifting her phone. "Ronnie, give me a heart."

I turned to the camera. I smiled, sweeter and brighter than I ever had before.

If they used my face to hook the fish, I was taking the whole damn catch.

Chapter 1

[Holy shit, Tiffany sent that photo to Harrison. He loved it so much he just wired her five grand for the new iPhone.]

[Harrison isn't just old money, his family is in politics. That kind of cash is pocket change to him. Doesn't matter, it will all belong to our female lead eventually.]

I stared down at my own phone. The screen was a shattered spiderweb of glass. One photo for five grand. Yeah, I was officially jealous.

Tiffany should have been thrilled with the cash transfer, but a sharp, panicked gasp escaped her throat instead. The other two instantly crowded around her desk. "What's wrong?" Tiffany shot a poorly concealed, frantic look in my direction.

Stella, who was closest to me, cleared her throat. "Ronnie, aren't you heading to the dining hall? Grab something for me, will you?"

Stella was blatantly trying to get rid of me.

I kept my expression entirely neutral. I slid a disposable paper cup into the sleeve of my hoodie and walked out the door without a word. The second the door clicked shut, I pressed the open end of the cup flat against the wood and leaned my ear in.

Tiffany's voice bled through, tight with panic. "What do I do? Harry is asking to meet up again. This is the third time. If I reject him again, he is going to get suspicious."

Tiffany had drained Harrison for everything he was worth. Over the past year, she had amassed over a dozen designer bags, plus a mountain of random high-end gifts.

For her birthday, he had casually overnighted a custom diamond necklace worth fifty grand. She was addicted to the lifestyle. There was no way she was letting that go.

Stella's tone remained cool and analytical. "Agree to it for now. When the time comes, tell him there was a dorm emergency and you can't make it. Rachel and I will back up your story."

Tiffany audibly exhaled, practically kissing the ground Stella walked on for saving her. With the crisis averted, the room fell silent.

The floating text in front of me, however, went absolutely wild.

[Our female lead is a literal genius. The brains of the operation.]

[Those two should be worshiping the ground she walks on. They'd be nothing without her.]

[Good thing the three male leads all fall for the female lead eventually. Makes those two freeloaders cough everything right back up.]

Chapter 2

This confirmed it. Stella was exactly who the floating text claimed she wasthe female lead. And Jeffrey, the literal creep I had almost sold myself to? Stella was the one who introduced us.

I didn't even have to do any digging. The floating text generously leaked the exact location of Tiffany and Harrison's meetup. It was the very same luxury hotel that had hired me for a part-time gig two days ago.

Because I was previously ready to become Jeffrey's sugar baby, I had lost all motivation to work. I actually quit the job yesterday. Thankfully, when I called the manager back, he didn't give me any grief. He told me I could come in for a shift whenever I wanted.

I ran my fingers lightly over my own cheek. I knew exactly why the manager was so accommodating. It was this face.

In the end, I kept my hands clean, only for someone else to use my face to do the dirty work.

I rushed to the hotel. Thanks to pretty privilege, they stationed me right at the front entrance as a greeter. The floating text kept me updated.

Harrison had been sitting in a VIP private dining room, waiting for Tiffany for three agonizing hours. Exactly five minutes ago, he realized he had been stood up.

I caught a glimpse of a tall figure descending from the second floor. I adjusted my grip on my tray of drinks and deliberately collided right into him. Harrison was already simmering with disappointment over his phantom internet girlfriend. The impact made his head snap toward me, his eyes dark with irritation.

I kept my head bowed. Frantic apologies spilled from my lips as my fingers scrambled over the damp, expensive fabric of his shirt. Right before the curse left his throat, I snapped my head up.

Harrison froze the absolute second our eyes met. His fingers clamped around my forearm like a vice.

"Baby!" The raw, undisguised joy in his voice was deafening.

I manufactured a perfect look of confusion. I ripped my arm out of his grip. "Sir, I think you have the wrong person."

Desperation bled into Harrison's features. "Baby, it's me. It's Harry."

"Sir, I honestly have no idea who you are. Please step back."

My icy demeanor extinguished the fire in his eyes. He stood paralyzed, the cogs finally turning in his head as realization began to slowly bleed the color from his face.

The suffocating silence broke when my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket. I answered it. The moment the words from the other end registered, hot tears spilled over my lashes, completely out of my control.

I ended the call. I didn't care about the mess on the floor or getting permission from my manager. I just turned and bolted for the exit.

Footsteps echoed behind me as Harrison chased me down. He reached out, his hand instinctively rising to brush away my tears. But his fingers stopped a millimeter from my skin, hovering in the negative space between us.

I didn't let him retreat. I snatched his hand, wrapping my fingers around his warm knuckles as tears tracked heavily down my cheeks. "Sir, do you drive? I can't get a cab out here. Please, can you take me to Central Hospital?"

My broken, stuttering breaths filled the silence of the car. Harrison kept his eyes glued to the road, freeing one hand to pass me a tissue. "Did something happen? Maybe I can help."

I swallowed hard, looking away in shame. "We don't even know each other. I'm already imposing by making you drive me."

Harrison threw a quick glance in my direction. "It's fine. I have a habit of helping people in need."

Armed with his validation, a blush crept up my neck. I hesitated, twisting my fingers together in my lap. "Then could you possibly lend me some money?"

Terrified he would refuse, I rushed out a promise. "I swear I'll pay you back. I can write you an IOU right now."

My mother was dying of acute leukemia. If I didn't pay the balance today, the hospital was throwing her out on the streets.

Chapter 3

The hospital had just issued their final warning. If I didn't clear the balance today, they would kick my mother out to the curb.

Harrison's brow furrowed. I lowered my lashes, playing the silent martyr.

Thanks to the floating text, I already knew Tiffany had ripped my exact life story to use as her tragic backstory with him. The dead dad, the chronically ill mother, the shattered girl just trying to survive.

She had milked him dry playing the victim. Same face. Same tragedy.

If Harrison hadn't connected the dots by now, he was functionally brain-dead.

Harrison broke the silence, his voice rough. "Have you really never heard the screen name Harry?"

I tilted my head, acting like I was digging through my memory. "Never heard of it. But it does sound a little familiar. Like someone mentioned it in passing."

Harrison didn't say another word for the rest of the drive.

At the billing department, he didn't even blink as he swiped his black card for a hundred and fifty grand. He covered the entire balance and prepaid the next three months so the administration wouldn't dare threaten us again. With his cash clearing the system, the staff immediately moved my mother to a private VIP suite. Looking down at her peaceful, sleeping face, I finally let out a genuine breath.

I pulled out my phone and sent a twenty-dollar CashApp transfer to the number that had called me earlier.

Exposing Tiffany's lies to Harrison today was just a pleasant side quest.

Now that I had a second to breathe, I checked the floating text again.

[Is this side character psycho? Her little stunt just threw the female lead's side into complete chaos.]

[Harrison is full-on ghosting Tiffany. Tiff is currently throwing a fit, blaming the female lead for giving her a trash idea.]

[Our precious female lead has never been treated like this. She is so pissed!]

I had already drafted the IOU while sitting in the hospital lobby. On the drive back, I held the folded paper out to Harrison. He tried to brush it off.

I refused to retract my arm. I nailed the stubborn, prideful girl routine right down to the tremor in my fingers. Harrison finally let out a defeated sigh and took the slip of paper.

The shift in the air was palpable. His gaze felt heavy. He looked at me differently now.

Tiffany never turned down a dime from him. Half the time, she practically begged for it.

Maybe he didn't mind being a sugar daddy before. But now, with my stubborn, untouchable innocence sitting right next to him as a direct contrast, the dynamic suddenly felt toxic to him.

A hundred and fifty grand was literal pocket change to a guy like him, but this was just the ugly nature of men. They want to be the savior, but they despise a beggar. More importantly, my face hooked him in the first place. That was the only reason he ever stuck around to tolerate Tiffany's inner beauty.

Harrison offered to drive me all the way back to campus. I politely declined. I had him pull over at the luxury hotel where I was supposed to be working.

Right before I unbuckled my seatbelt, he pulled up a photo on his phone and held the screen toward me. "When did you take this?"

I blinked, letting my eyes widen in flawless confusion. "Why do you have a picture of me?"

Harrison held my gaze. "My online girlfriend sent it to me."

"Online girlfriend" I mumbled under my breath. I froze mid-sentence, slapping a hand over my mouth in dramatic realization.

Harrison's eyes narrowed, sharp and demanding. "What do you know, Ronnie?"

I stumbled over my words in a panicked breath. "My roommates use my pictures to catfish guys online! My roommate Stella took that picture of me yesterday. She loves taking photos of me."

The truth was, Tiffany was the one obsessed with photographing me. Even though they all used my face to catfish, the three of them had totally different operating styles.

Tiffany preferred the old-fashioned, manual way. She manufactured stupid excuses just to snap candids of me in the dorm.

Rachel was lazy. She just scraped my Instagram feed.

But Stella was on another level. She weaponized AI. She generated whatever photos or videos her target wanted.

Chapter 4

She even used AI to deepfake my face for video calls with her target.

I casually tossed Stella right under the bus in front of Harrison.

The floating text flared to life instantly, unleashing a torrent of vicious insults.

I took in Harrison's dark, thunderous expression and let my eyelids flutter shut for a fraction of a second.

If the floating text insisted he would eventually fall in love with Stella, I was going to sever that connection right here, right now.

Harrison was ruthless. He dumped Tiffany immediately and demanded every single dime back. If she didn't wire the funds, his lawyers would be serving her a subpoena by morning.

But the money was already gone. Cornered, Tiffany went feral. She turned on Rachel and Stella, screaming for a loan. She didn't just beg, she blackmailed them.

Rachel had logged into her Instagram on Tiffany's laptop once, and Tiffany had memorized her online boyfriend's handle. If they didn't cover her debt, she was dragging everyone down to hell with her.

I didn't care how the three of them settled the hostage negotiation. All I knew was that the mountain of designer bags stuffed in Stella and Rachel's closets magically vanished. And Tiffany was officially excommunicated from their little clique.

The air in the dorm room was thick and toxic the second I walked in. I glanced at Tiffany, who sat isolated and simmering in the corner. This was barely the appetizer.

I played the clueless roommate perfectly, walking straight to my desk without a word. Stella suddenly closed the distance and dragged me out into the hallway. Her eyes gleamed with hungry gossip.

"My aunt just texted me. She said your mom's hospital bill got completely cleared." She paused, throwing me a knowing, conspiratorial wink. "Did you go on a date with Jeffrey this morning?"

Jeffrey was the literal creep I had almost sold myself to. Stella was the one who had set it up. Her aunt was a nurse on my mother's oncology ward. Somehow, Stella had dug up my family's financial ruin and generously pointed me toward the darkest way out.

I met Stella's eager, expectant gaze and shook my head. "Someone lent me the money. It's covered for now."

Stella scoffed, clearly not buying it. "That's a massive amount of cash, Ronnie. Who is just casually handing out loans like that? Besides, you still have to pay it back."

She launched into another pitch, trying to push me back toward Jeffrey, talking up his fake wealth and connections like a cheap salesman.

I cut her off. I remembered reading once that the fastest way to shut someone up was to ask them for cash.

"Stella, your boyfriend buys you all those luxury gifts. He sends you an allowance every week. Could you lend me some money?"

It worked like a charm. Her jaw snapped shut. She stammered out a weak excuse about how her funds were tied up.

She wasn't entirely lying. Every cent her internet target wired her went straight into med-spa treatments and Botox. Before I could press the issue, she spun around and retreated into the dorm.

I trailed right behind her. As the door opened, Rachel's relieved voice floated through the room. "Thank God Weston hasn't asked to meet up yet."

Unfortunately for her, she was celebrating way too early