Mi hija es del millonario

I had been dating a rich Canverlian guy from the Internet, Oliver Radcliffe. His face looked like he had just stepped off the set of a gritty mob movie, and one look from him could scare a toddler into tears.

When I first saw him, I thought I had found my type—a cold, ruthless man who had a cigarette between his lips and put it out on my heart without blinking, except he turned out to be a three-in-one package of clinginess, jealousy, and a crybaby.

Every time we fought, he cried harder than I did. He would be sobbing and wiping away tears while gripping my head. He would pretend to be all "don't come near me" while clearly trying to comfort me.

Just like the first night we video-called, his tears started splattering onto the screen before I could even say a word.

Tonight, he called again while I was debating whether to block him and disappear from the Internet for good.

Once I picked up, eight-pack abs were immediately shoved in my face. It was like a 4K gym commercial had been projected onto my phone.

I wondered why Oliver had been hiding that physique for a year. Was he afraid I would have a heart attack?

Staring at the lines on his abs, I swallowed hard.

"Are we… getting spicy tonight?" he asked.

I was utterly stunned. Wasn't he supposed to be the sweet little puppy who read me the finance articles to help me fall asleep every night? Since when had he turned into a walking pheromone bomb?

Was he trying to spice things up because our relationship was getting too stale?

Fine. I made up my mind not to break up with him yet and decided to keep him under observation for a couple more days.

"Hey, handsome, are you looking for a modeling gig? I work for an underwear brand, so send me your sizes and some reference photos, and I'll give you some samples."

I was flirting so hard that I could barely control the upturned curves of my lips. Deep down, I was secretly laughing at how well Oliver was playing along.

But the next second, he slowly pulled his shirt back on and began fastening the buttons one at a time. His movements were so elegant that he could have been shooting a luxury ad.

"I forgot to get dressed. Didn't scare you, did I?" he said, tilting his head with a smirk.

"...Scare me?" I mumbled to myself. He was literally begging me to commit a crime.

I watched as his long fingers moved upward from the first button to the second and the third… With every button fastened, my heart sank a little deeper.

No one could ever understand the despair of not being able to reach my fingers through a screen.

"Seriously… You're really…

"I-I got all excited for nothing."

Oliver suddenly leaned closer to the screen. His blue eyes sparkled like they were full of crushed stars, and his voice was a gentle coo as if he was soothing a child.

"Why are you disappointed, babe? It's not like you can touch me anyway."

That hit a nerve. I finally understood why people said that foreigners sounded soft when they spoke, but their words somehow cut deeper than knives.

Oh goodness… What was the point of my spending 6,000 dollars on a phone if the touchscreen was just an illusion?

"Stop flirting with me," I said with a sigh. "My self-control's as flimsy as paper."

Eyes half-lidded, he chuckled and drawled, "I haven't even started yet, babe.

"Can I… fly over to visit? Do you think your little puppy would wag his tail for you?"

He gazed at me with eyes shining so brightly they could have lit up the night sky.

I immediately replied, "Meetups are off the table.

"The physical world is a playground for extroverts, while introverts like us only belong behind WiFi cables.

"A man's charm depends entirely on imagination, and mystery's the most important part of online dating."

…All my words were total lies. The true reason I had rejected a meetup was simple—I wanted to break up.

At the beginning, I only dated Oliver because he was fluent in Canverlian and taught me how to memorize vocabulary. I never planned to take this relationship seriously, let alone meet in person.

Deep down, I liked the dangerous type—the sharp-tongued and cold-hearted men who dumped their partners and left without a trace. He was just too sweet, and when he cried like he was the world's biggest victim, I was utterly irritated.

He had no idea I had made up my mind and was still smiling at me like an angel descended from heaven.

"Okay, I'll listen to you and behave. But if you finally can't resist wanting to see me, I'll be right in front of you."