I Snatched the Hidden Tycoon

Hailey Marin let out a cold laugh, then texted me the secret code phrase and identity details for her online relationship.

She twirled her fake designer bag and walked away. I slipped my phone into my pocket, threw on my old jacket, and walked straight toward the gate.

"Lucas Reed?" I stopped beside his beat-up scooter.

The man looked up. He had sharp features, though a thick streak of engine oil across his forehead slightly masked his appearance.

He sized me up. "Hailey Marin?"

I smiled. "That's me."

Lucas stood up, brushed the dirt off his hands, and pointed to the street across from the factory.

"For our first meeting, let me treat you to a meal," he offered. "Don't mind if it's nothing fancy."

He led me into a cheap diner and ordered two plates of basic pasta. They were $6 each, without a shred of meat.

The plates had visible grease stains on the rims. If it had been Hailey, she probably would have flipped the table.

I simply picked up my fork and dug into the pasta, which tasted strongly of cheap soy sauce. I looked up and flashed a smile. "It's good."

As I ate, I kept my eyes on the digits floating above his head. Every time I looked up, I could see his massive balance. Even as I swallowed the last of the food, the number ticked upward by another few hundred dollars.

After we finished eating, his old scooter completely broke down. The front panel latch snapped, the battery cables dangled out, and the key refused to turn.

"Sorry, the scooter is acting up," he said, raising an eyebrow, but there wasn't a trace of regret in his tone.

Without a word, I pulled a black insulating hairpin out of my hair, bent down, and pried open the broken panel.

Not missing a beat, I jumped the ignition by bridging the positive and negative copper wires and used the hairpin to secure the loose latch.

"Try the key now," I said, dusting off my hands.

His eyes narrowed slightly. He twisted the key, and the engine roared back to life.

"It should be good enough to get you back to the dorm," I noted.

He glanced down at my oil-stained fingers and chuckled. "You're a little different from what I imagined."

Just then, a camera shutter clicked in the distance. Hailey was standing across the street, holding up her phone to take a photo of me with dirty hands as I stood next to Lucas and his busted scooter.

Within minutes, the factory group chat exploded.

Hailey had posted the photo to her social media with a mocking caption: [Lol! Trash belongs with a loser. Enjoy riding that piece of junk forever.]

The comments flooded in, with almost every worker joining in on the joke. I looked at my phone screen, simply closed the app, and headed straight back to the dorms.

Just as I reached the building entrance, the roar of a high-end engine cut through the air. A brand-new Mercedes pulled up in front of the dorm gates.

The door swung open, and a sharply dressed man stepped out, holding a massive bouquet of red roses. When he handed the flowers to Hailey, the surrounding female workers gasped in excitement and flocked around her, showering her with compliments.

Then they turned their mocking eyes toward me in the corner.

"Allow me to introduce my boyfriend, Zach Langston," Hailey started, lifting his chin. "He's the nephew of Supervisor Langston from the main office, a wealthy heir who just returned from studying abroad."

I quietly looked up at the celebrated heir. There was no massive fortune floating above his head. Instead, there was a glaring, blood-red sequence of digits: [-$8,000,000].

Worse yet, that negative number kept ticking downward. He was sinking deeper into debt by the second.

A cold smirk played at my lips as realization sank in: Hailey had willingly thrown away a mountain of gold to chase a black hole.