The Comments Told Me To Be Noble, So I Told Them To Shut Up

Bad news: I got hit by a car. Good news: It was a luxury car. I was just pulling out my phone to Google how much I could squeeze out of this when a text bubble popped into my vision, distracting me from my impending windfall. [The heroine and the hero have finally met! The hero will definitely be captivated by her noble spirit when she refuses to take his money.] Refuse his money? In his dreams. I was thinking a hundred grand, maybe two. 1 [How can you be so greedy? Aren't you supposed to be the noble heroine?] I’m already a corporate drone working myself to death. What’s the point of pretending to be noble? “Are you okay? I can take you to the hospital.” A handsome guy decked out in designer brands stepped out of the car. He practically had a theme song of money raining from the sky, and my eyes lit up. “Oh, my leg! It hurts so much! I think I’m crippled! You’re not leaving without paying me $200,000.” Landon smirked, gesturing to my legs. “You’re standing there perfectly steady. Crippled? Nice try. If you’re trying to scam me, I’m just calling my insurance.” Crap. I wasn't really hurt. Insurance wouldn't make me rich. I grabbed the rich guy’s hand and, in one smooth motion, dropped to my knees in front of him. “Sir, please! I have cancer! I can’t wait for an insurance payout. Just give me a hundred thousand. I’ll be your loyal servant in my next life.” Landon tried to yank his hand away, but I was faster, wrapping my arms around his leg as he tried to get back in his car. We were locked in a stalemate for a few minutes until his phone rang. Judging by the furious look on his face, he was having a bad day. I was about to offer to settle for fifty thousand. “Open your payment app. I’ll transfer it.” I stared at the confirmation on my screen: $100,348.20. That was two years of my miserable salary. I could finally live a little. [This heroine is so stupid. If she’d just played her cards right and won over the hero, what’s a hundred grand?] I went home and carefully spread the cash out on my bed, then started yelling at the empty air. “I’ve had it with you people! Have you ever worked until 2 AM, only to get screamed at by your boss the next day? This hundred thousand is real, and it’s right here on my bed. It’s a hell of a lot better than the empty promises you keep feeding me. I’m going to quit my job right now!” [So aggressive. I’m out. She’s too dumb to save. Someone else can deal with her.] I buried my face in the glorious scent of money, ignoring their group chat-style insults. Honestly, their words were way kinder than my boss’s. After a few days of glorious laziness, one of the disembodied comments suggested I get a job at the Elixir Bar. If I saved the hero there, I could supposedly salvage my image. The comments were always nagging me to be noble, but they were also weirdly psychic. A secret tip for getting rich? I was all in. 2 I’d been working at the bar for days. Where was this rich idiot? Was this whole thing a prank by the voices in my head? Just as I was grumbling to myself, someone yanked me into a private room. Holy crap, it was my golden goose. His face was as red as a baboon’s ass, and he was panting like a bull. He started tearing at my clothes. Was the drug he’d been given that strong? My services were artistic, not physical! Was it too late to run? I grabbed a fruit platter and smashed it over Landon’s head, knocking him to the floor. I made a break for it, but he grabbed my ankle, rubbing his head as he stared up at me. “You?” Landon felt the fire raging inside him. She was a greedy, money-grubbing woman, which made this perfect. He was glad it was her. “$500,000. One night.” Five hundred thousand? That was enough for a down payment on a small condo. Deal. Damn, that hurt. This money wasn’t easy to earn. Wait. I crawled shakily toward my phone, but the bastard grabbed my waist and dragged me back. “Don’t go.” Help me! They always say to document your work. If I let this half-a-million-dollar deal slip away, who could I possibly complain to? That night was a blur of sweat and tears. When the drugs finally wore off and he passed out from exhaustion, I propped him up, recorded a quick video for insurance, and stumbled out of there, clutching my aching back. “Payment received: $500,000.” I’d been feverish and dazed, but the notification sound snapped me back to reality. Rich people really were different. A poor person like me would have just ghosted him. I was scrolling through real estate listings when my mom called. “Chloe, your father’s heart condition has flared up. He needs surgery. The doctors say it’ll be $300,000.” My heart sank. Here we go again. “Where’s my brother? Where the hell is he? Didn’t you two spend over a million on a house for him and his wife? Sell the house, then you’ll have the money.” “We can’t do that, Chloe! That house is your brother’s whole life! If your father knew the money came from selling it, he’d rather die than have the surgery.” [What a terrible heroine. She won’t even help her own father and is trying to take her brother’s house.] It was always the same story. Ever since I started working, they’d used this line to guilt me out of my hard-earned money. I hung up and stood by the window for a long time before finally transferring $200,000. [I guess she has a conscience after all. A little cheap, though. She got $500,000 and only sent $200,000.] The loss of my two hundred grand already stung, but hearing them call me cheap sent me over the edge. I ignored the shooting pain in my back and screamed at the air. “You! You! How much do you make? I bet you don’t even have twenty grand in savings, and you have the nerve to call me cheap?” “And you! Saying I have no conscience? I’ve given my family over a hundred thousand dollars over the years! Have you? I bet you haven’t even given them a grand. You’re just like my brother, a leech sucking them dry!” “This was money I sold my body for! I kept myself pure for over twenty years, and now it’s gone!” The fight went out of me, and I started to cry. The voices, which had been arguing back, quieted down. A few even tried to comfort me. [Don’t cry. You may have lost your innocence, but you still have $400,000. Go look at some apartments to cheer yourself up.] Right. I guess I’d just have to look for something cheaper. After making the down payment on a tiny, run-down studio, I was broke again. No job, no savings. It was back to a diet of instant noodles and eggs. 3 Maybe the voices felt sorry for me, because one suggested I try “bumping into” the hero again to improve my finances. My personal ethics screamed no, but my survival instincts screamed yes. The voices claimed that a man never forgets his first, and if I just hung around him enough, the chances of becoming his sugar baby were high. I initially applied to be the CEO’s Executive Assistant at his company, but HR told me that with my qualifications, the best I could do was… janitor. I swallowed my rage. Fine. One day, I’d be the one looking down on her. Holding a broom and staring out the window, I felt a wave of despair. But I was a cleaner with a mission. Whenever I had a spare moment, I’d sneak a peek toward the CEO’s office. I’d been scrubbing toilets for days, but I still hadn't seen him. Was he locked up somewhere? In those cheesy web dramas I watch, tyrannical CEOs always get disciplined by their fathers with some archaic family punishment. I was in the middle of a heated argument with the voices, accusing them of giving me bad intel and tricking me into becoming a janitor, when Landon tapped me on the shoulder. He’d been watching me yell at nothing. Had she lost her mind? “How are you feeling? You don’t look well. Should I have my personal doctor check on you?” He scared the hell out of me. I’d been so caught up in my rant I hadn’t heard him approach. “Boss! You remember me, right? The woman who spent that passionate night with you.” “Ahem! Don’t mention that again. I’ve sent you ten thousand.” He really was a money tree. One sentence earned me two months of my old salary. “Boss, I applied to be your assistant, but they made me a cleaner. Maybe you could… rearrange things? Otherwise, your little secret might just…” The truth was, since that night, Landon found himself thinking about the sobbing, silly woman beneath him. She was average-looking, but for some reason, he couldn’t get her out of his head. [Tsk, tsk. See? It’s starting. I told you heroes have a thing for their first.] I glanced down. Perv. I swung my broom and whacked him right between the legs. The blow sent Landon doubling over, clutching his family jewels and howling in pain. [Oh my god! The heroine just ruined her own happily ever after! We’re talking ten-times-a-night material! I wanted to hear the juicy details!] Crap. I was broke. What was I thinking? If he blacklisted me, I probably couldn’t even get a job sweeping streets. I quickly and quietly smuggled him to the hospital. Lying in the hospital bed, Landon listened as the doctor warned him to be careful for a few days. A few more hits like that, and he’d be out of commission for good. His anger flared. When the doctor left, he saw me hovering by the door, which only made him madder. “Get over here! What are you doing standing in the doorway? Do you want everyone to know I was almost castrated?” I carefully locked the door, then slid to my knees in front of him, grabbing his hand and slapping it against my own face a few times. “I’m so sorry, boss! It’s all my fault! I’m the worst! If you’re still angry, you can… you can kick me right back. Down there.” Landon stared at my crotch for a long, silent moment. “Forget it. I’m not kicking you. And you’re not a cleaner anymore. From now on, you’ll be taking care of me personally. It’s either that, or my lawyers will be sending you to jail.” Hearing that he was letting it go, I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my cheeks. “What’s the salary? I’m not asking for much. Ten thousand a month is fine. I can even provide overnight watch services.” [‘Watch services’ that end with you climbing into his bed, right?] Climbing into bed costs extra. I’m not that cheap. “Do you really think I’m that much of a sucker? Overnight watch? I’d be afraid you’d castrate me in my sleep. The most I’ll pay is a thousand.” I did some quick math on my mortgage payments. A thousand it was. Better than five hundred and scrubbing toilets. “Deal, boss! Please scan my code.” 4 After he was discharged, I was promoted from janitor to live-in maid. But this guy was a total psycho. Every night, he made me do dozens of deep squats in a French maid outfit, calling it my “punishment.” After the squats, my legs would be jelly. I’d just collapse on the floor, butt in the air. It wasn’t like anyone else ever came into his room. Seeing my rear end sticking up, Landon cleared his throat. “Come to the office with me tomorrow.” I thought he was going to keep me as his canary in a gilded cage, but no. I had to serve him at the villa at night and then serve him tea at the office during the day. On the way to his office, I noticed people whispering and staring at my maid outfit. He was definitely a freak, but he’d added an extra thousand to my pay, and in the face of money, a little freakishness was nothing. “Landon, my man! Miss me?” A guy I’d later learn was named Ethan burst in and threw his arms around Landon in a bear hug, only to be promptly thrown to the floor. He just laughed and scrambled back up as if nothing happened. What an idiot. If I’d been thrown like that, I wouldn’t have gotten up for less than a few grand. “Well, well, what do we have here? A pretty little thing. Landon, don’t tell me you’ve found a new toy and forgotten your old one.” Ethan circled me, looking me up and down. He reached out to touch me, but Landon snatched his hand before it could get anywhere near my chest. “Be careful. She’s an expert at faking injuries for cash.” Was he really bad-mouthing me right in front of my face? “You going to the party tonight?” Ethan asked. “My sister won’t stop nagging me. You know she’s got a lot of dirt on me.” “Fine. But I want the Apex project.” Ethan groaned. “And you call her the scammer. You’re the real vampire.” It was the first time I’d ever worn designer clothes. I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, staring at the impossibly elegant person looking back. Was that really me, Chloe? The girl her parents resented and her boss abused? Maybe the voices were right. The petty cash I was chasing was nothing. My poverty had limited my vision. When I followed Landon into the party, I felt like an ugly duckling who had stumbled into a flock of swans. The room was filled with effortlessly glamorous heirs and heiresses, and a deep sense of insecurity washed over me. When Ethan saw Landon arrive with me, he grinned. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Why’d you bring the maid, Landon? Is there something special about her? She must be… very good at her job.” After his little joke, he pulled Landon away, leaving me stranded. I had no place among them. As his maid, my only option was to stand by Landon’s side and wait to serve him. Sitting next to Landon was Olivia, Ethan’s sister. I watched as Olivia tried to take Landon’s hand, only for him to pull away. She tried to talk to him, and he just picked up his glass and drank. I didn’t get it. She was a beautiful, wealthy heiress. Why was she acting so desperate? What was so great about Landon? If it wasn't for his money, I’d never put up with his twisted games. My curiosity must have been obvious, because Olivia turned to me and smiled, then had someone bring me a chair. She was actually nice, a lot nicer than the other rich kids who treated me like I was invisible. Landon saw me smiling at someone else and felt a strange pang of irritation. He reached out, pulled me onto his lap, and whispered in my ear. “Sit on my lap, your bonus doubles. Block drinks for me, it doubles again.” The mention of money was like a shot of adrenaline. Suddenly, all these rich kids looked charming and delightful. Whenever someone offered Landon a drink, I snatched the glass and downed it myself. Someone complained I was being rude, but Landon would just purr, “My new kitten isn't trained yet. But I find her wildness… amusing.” And they’d let me be. Seeing Landon in a good mood, Olivia leaned in. “Landon, my birthday is the day after tomorrow. You know our parents have always hoped we’d get married. I really hope you can be there.” I saw Landon signal for me to refuse, but I couldn’t stand to see her so humiliated. I blurted out, “Of course he’ll be there!” Landon shoved me off his lap. I could see the fury building in his eyes. Fueled by alcohol and impulse, I stood up, grabbed his face, and kissed him to shut him up. His lips were surprisingly soft. I may have started it, but by the end, I was the one left breathless. After the kiss, Landon scooped me up—dizzy and half-drunk—and carried me out. All eyes turned to Olivia. Everyone knew she wanted to marry Landon, and here he was, shamelessly flaunting another woman. If she ever did marry him, she’d be dealing with an army of mistresses. He tossed me onto the bed. It felt like a big, hot dog was pinning me down. It was so hot, so uncomfortable. Why was the dog licking me? Slowly… My clothes came off. Landon thought I was inviting him in. He watched me for a long moment before finally lowering himself over me.