Stolen By His Billionaire Best Friend
While I was dating Spencer, his best friend, Rhys, made it his personal mission to badmouth me.
“Beyond beautiful, she’s useless.”
“She calls him to check in even when we’re just getting drinks. She’ll walk all over you, man.”
“Be a man, Spencer. Don’t be a simp, okay?”
Goaded by Rhys’s constant needling, Spencer coldly dumped me.
Two months later, he regretted it and called late one night, begging to reconcile.
But the person who answered the phone was Rhys.
“Bro, the funny thing is, the moment I laid eyes on your girlfriend, I knew you and I were going to be inseparable.”
“Oh, right. We’re getting married next month. Be sure to come.”
1
Spencer introduced me to Rhys at some upscale dinner party.
“Babe, this is Rhys.”
Spencer’s tone was noticeably reverent when he made the introduction.
I looked over, a little self-conscious.
Rhys sat at the center of the crowd, relaxed, with striking features and an exceptional aura.
He was clearly high society, old money.
Far wealthier than Spencer, who was just a local trust fund kid.
I greeted him politely: “Hi, Rhys. I’m Sloan.”
Rhys didn’t nod or reply. He just stared at me.
He held my gaze for two or three seconds.
After a beat, he finally asked Spencer:
“Your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, man.”
“Oh.”
Rhys’s expression suddenly turned impatient, and he looked away, not sparing me another glance.
I scratched my head.
Even though I’m slow to catch on, I sensed that this elite guy didn’t like me.
2
That hunch was quickly confirmed.
Spencer threw a big party for his birthday, inviting several friends, Rhys included.
I was running late because of extra hours at the office.
Just as I reached out to push open the private lounge door, I heard Rhys’s voice drift out, lazy and condescending.
“Spencer, aside from her looks, that girlfriend of yours is useless. What do you even see in her?”
…
Well, even the rich talk trash behind people’s backs.
I felt a little awkward.
I sheepishly pulled back my hand, silently racking my brain trying to figure out what I’d done to offend this sophisticated man.
Inside, Spencer replied:
“The face and the body, obviously. She’s got that innocent-but-sexy vibe. Who wouldn’t be into that?”
“You agree, right, man?”
“…”
Rhys was eerily quiet for a few seconds before speaking again:
“So you’re going to marry her?”
Spencer hesitated:
“Ah, I don’t know, actually.”
“How can I put this? Sloan is genuinely beautiful, but she’s a little slow, and her parents are just regular people—farmers, honestly. I don’t want to lose the battle against my brother over my choice of wife.”
I knew about Spencer’s half-brother, who was battling him for control of the family business.
My parents were just simple, working-class people. I couldn’t offer him any business leverage.
Rhys made a noise of acknowledgment.
“It’s true. It’s a mismatch. You need to be cautious about mixing bloodlines. Don’t lose the war over a fling.”
Spencer was touched.
“Thanks for the concern, Rhys. I’ll toast you first.”
“I’m really moved that you came to my party tonight. Anything you ever need from me, you got it.”
A new round of toasts began inside the room, accompanied by everyone’s fawning praise for Rhys.
I stood outside the door, a knot tightening in my chest.
I felt hurt by Rhys’s harsh words about me.
I felt sad about the massive gap between Spencer’s family and mine.
And I felt disappointed that Spencer wasn’t firmly committed to marrying me.
But it was okay. We’d only been dating for two months. We had plenty of time to work things out.
Once the topic inside the room shifted, I composed myself, pushed the door open, and walked in.
When Spencer saw me, he acted as if nothing had happened, constantly piling food onto my plate.
The other guys greeted me out of respect for him.
Only Rhys maintained a cold, irritated expression from the moment I entered, looking like he was in a terrible mood.
Right.
He still really seemed to hate me.
I decided to just stay as far away from him as possible. I made a mental note.
3
After that night, Spencer seemed to have formally latched onto Rhys like a remora.
He was constantly out drinking and hanging out with Rhys and his circle of friends.
He’d come home every day reeking of alcohol and a faint, foreign female perfume.
A cheap one.
Sweet and cloying.
The kind club girls wore.
I don’t know what he was hearing out there, but lately, he was subtly finding fault with everything I did.
He said I was a bad drinker, that I was too introverted, and that I constantly checked up on him.
His dissatisfaction with me grew daily.
One night, when Spencer was out drinking late again and hadn’t returned, I called him, worried.
“Spencer, what time are you planning on coming home tonight?”
Men have a strange psychology.
They hate being called home by their girlfriends during a gathering with their friends; they feel it compromises their male pride.
Spencer sounded annoyed, though his tone was barely polite.
“Sloan, I haven’t finished drinking yet. I’ll come home after.”
“Can’t you stop now? I miss you and I want you back soon.”
“Just go to sleep, don’t wait up for me.”
After Spencer hung up, the man of sophisticated aura next to him suddenly scoffed.
It was Rhys.
“Spencer, why does your girlfriend check up on you every time you come out for a drink?”
“If you marry her, she’ll run your life.”
A group of guys broke out into laughter.
“Yeah, if my girl dared to try and manage me, I’d dump her and find a new one.”
“Seriously, are you even a man, Spence?”
Spencer was embarrassed that he’d lost face. He mumbled:
“I’ll talk to her later. I’m not going to tolerate this habit of hers.”
Rhys offered an ambiguous, knowing smile.
4
Spencer didn’t come home until the next day.
He had a hangdog, hungover look, and his clothes were wrinkled.
The club-girl perfume smell was heavier, cloyingly strong.
I hesitated before speaking:
“Spencer, can you stop going out with those friends of yours? Especially Rhys, I think there’s something strange about him.”
Spencer tugged at his tie and frowned when he heard that.
He remembered the embarrassing scene last night where his friends had collectively mocked him until he couldn’t lift his head.
My request now sent his irritation soaring.
“What are you talking about? He’s the only heir to the most powerful family in this city—my family’s wealth is a rounding error for him. If I latch onto him, I’ll be set for life.”
“…But I don’t like him constantly dragging you out drinking.”
“Sloan, be sensible. That phone call you made last night nearly made me lose face in front of everyone.”
“I have been very sensible.”
“Then be a little more sensible, okay? Stop calling to rush me home. It’s annoying.”
So, my concern was annoying him.
I stared at him, disappointed, then grabbed my purse and walked past him.
“Spencer, if you don’t distance yourself from Rhys and those people, then let’s just cool off for a few days.”
“Sloan! Now you dare to give me the cold shoulder?!”
Spencer angrily called out a few times, but I didn’t look back.
Starting that day, we were in a cold war.
He didn’t try to placate me, and I didn’t go home, opting to stay at the office instead.
However, an unfamiliar number started sending me frequent photos of Spencer over the next few days.
In the pictures, my boyfriend was intimately embracing different women, his face blurry with intoxication, living the high life.
It was clear he was enjoying himself immensely.
I didn’t know who was sending them.
But someone was secretly trying to drive a wedge between Spencer and me.
I have to admit, it was a huge success.
In a fit of anger, I sent Spencer a breakup text.
5
Unexpectedly, Spencer didn’t go out that evening. Instead, he cooked an entire table of food, hoping to reconcile.
I was surprised.
During the time we lived together, he wouldn’t even pick up a dropped ketchup bottle.
He sincerely apologized.
“Babe, I don’t want to lose you. Can we please stop fighting?”
“What about your friends, like Rhys?”
“I can’t completely cut him off. Rhys is genuinely helpful to my business goals. But I will reduce the number of times I go out with them. I won’t neglect you anymore.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
This was good enough.
I nodded. We both took a step back, and the cold war ended harmoniously.
Spencer happily went to the kitchen to serve soup, and I just as happily went to the bathroom to wash my hands.
Someone else’s mood, however, was far from pleasant.
In a private lounge, Rhys lit a cigarette and called Spencer.
“Rhys, what’s up?”
“Spencer, why aren’t you here drinking?”
Spencer sighed.
“Rhys, I can’t make it tonight. My girlfriend and I had a fight, and I just cooked a meal to smooth things over.”
Rhys’s tone instantly turned sharp.
“Smooth what over?”
“Be a man. Don’t be a simp, okay?”
“You should spend that time drinking instead. I got you a solid investor for the new project, and he’s here tonight. Come talk business first. Don’t let a woman distract you from the important stuff.”
Spencer hesitated: “But…”
Rhys was cold and cutting.
“If you don’t come, I’ll turn him down. I was going to use this project to help you gain ground on your half-brother, but forget it. Go back to being a whipped dog.”
“No, no, no, man. I’ll be there.”
“Hurry up.”
Rhys hung up the phone, a calculated plume of smoke leaving his lips.
A look of pure calculation flashed in his dark eyes before vanishing.
6
When I came out after washing my hands, I saw Spencer hurriedly putting on his jacket.
“I thought we were eating. Where are you going?”
“I have an emergency meeting. A really important one. I have to go out and drink.”
I was dejected.
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? We just made up today.”
Spencer was impatient:
“Sloan, I thought you’d be more sensible after the cold war. Why are you even more dramatic now?”
He thought:
The guys were right. You can’t spoil women. The more you give, the more they demand. I took one step back, and now she’s trying to manage my important business meetings.
I didn’t want to argue, so I didn’t try to stop him again.
“…Okay. Then please come home early.”
“I’ll try.”
Spencer scoffed and walked out.
But by midnight, he still hadn’t returned and hadn’t texted me.
I was going to go to bed, but then I realized Spencer hadn’t taken his keys.
Reluctantly, I called him.
7
In the private lounge.
The deal had mysteriously fallen apart.
Spencer was furious.
The investor, for some reason, kept giving him a hard time, eventually walking out without a deal. Rhys, sitting nearby, hadn’t offered a word of support.
Just as Spencer was frustratedly running his hands through his hair and drinking heavily, my call came in.
“Spencer, what time are you coming back?”
The nagging question instantly triggered the entire night’s pent-up anger.
“Sloan, are you serious? Why are you so annoying?”
“I told you I was at a meeting, and you’re still bugging me.”
“Why are you so completely unreasonable now? You’re so whiny and high-maintenance.”
I was stunned by the brutal outburst, and instinctively tried to explain.
“I just wanted to ask you if you brought the—”
“Just what? It’s true you’re useless beyond your pretty face. You can’t offer me any help at all.”
“Get lost. We’re done. Get out of my apartment tonight. I never want to see you again.”
The fact that he could say something that cruel proved there was no reason for us to be together anymore.
I said:
“Okay.”
…
After his tirade, Spencer hung up first.
The hangers-on nearby heard enough to know they’d broken up, and they immediately started laughing and praising him.
“Wow, Spence, that’s the most masculine thing you’ve done.”
“Well played. Never give a woman too much power. Checking up on you during a business deal? She should be at home warming the bed.”
“Don’t worry, Spencer, I’ll introduce you to some hotter, high-profile influencers.”
After a round of fawning, Spencer’s depressed mood improved significantly.
He thought.
Right.
Sloan was only good-looking.
A loss he could afford.
As he was toasting his friends, Spencer suddenly noticed that someone was missing from the room.
“Hey, where did Rhys go?”
Someone replied: “He just left with his car keys. Said he was going to pick up his girlfriend.”
“Whose daughter is his girlfriend? I’ve never heard him mention her.”
Spencer was suspicious.
“I don’t know.”
The group of guys started gossiping, running through a list of eligible women, from the oil baron’s daughter to the shipping magnate’s granddaughter. None of them fit.
“That’s weird. Who could it be?”
