The Rich Man's Game: It's Over

It was late when I got home from work. After showering, I sat on the bed, scrolling through my phone, feeling exhausted. Suddenly, a notification popped up, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Top Actress Regina Brooks Celebrates Birthday With a Four-Million-Dollar Diamond Necklace Gifted by a Mysterious Tycoon."

I rubbed my eyes, my hands trembling as I zoomed in on the photo. The man in the picture only showed his back. Nonetheless, after three years of marriage, I recognized him instantly. It was my husband, Isaiah Keller—he had a distinct black mole behind his ear that gave him away.

Four million dollars was an astronomical amount to me. Just a few days ago, I went shopping with Isaiah and saw a 200-dollar purse that I liked. He said it was too expensive and told me not to buy it.

I thought about it and figured 200 dollars could buy enough household supplies to last months, so I let it go. But now, I could not help but feel suffocated.

Isaiah and I had met online. After chatting for over two months, we met in person and fell for each other instantly. That Valentine's Day, he proposed to me with the tab ring of a soda can, promising he would get me a proper diamond ring once he made more money.

I said yes because I loved him.

Isaiah was an orphan who grew up in an orphanage. He had failed in business and was over one million dollars in debt when we got married, so we kept everything simple.

The house we lived in was rented, with me paying the rent every month. I also covered our daily expenses, working a full-time job during the day and taking shifts as a waitress at a restaurant at night.

Just after our intimate moment last night, he held me in his arms and said, "Honey, thank you for giving me a home. If it weren't for you, I'd never know what happiness is."

He started to cry as he added, "Once I'm debt-free, I'll work hard to buy you a car and a house. I want to give you the life you deserve."

He choked up, "If I hadn't failed at my business, you wouldn't have to suffer like this. I'm sorry, honey."

I kissed him and comforted him, saying, "Don't be sad, honey. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

At that moment, I truly believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Isaiah was handsome. He did not smoke or drink, and he loved me wholeheartedly. Aside from being broke, he was the perfect husband. I believed that if we worked hard enough, we could clear his debts in no time.

But now, as I bit my lip, tears streamed down my face. Just as I was crying, I received a text from Isaiah.

"Honey, business is really good tonight. I'm staying late to earn more so I can pay off the debt. Don't wait up for me, okay?"

Isaiah worked as a delivery driver during the day and sometimes as a rideshare driver at night. If I had not seen that photo, I would have naively believed he was working late and driving strangers around. I could not understand why he was lying to me.

I did not sleep that night, and Isaiah did not come home either.

The next morning, I skipped breakfast and left the house feeling like a zombie. As I stepped outside, I spotted a familiar figure across the street and quickly hid behind a tree.

Isaiah was stepping out of a Bentley. The expensive suit he had worn last night had been replaced with the cheap T-shirt and jeans I had bought for him.

Then, a middle-aged man approached him, respectfully handing over a bag. From the shape of it, I could tell it held my favorite breakfast: soy milk and a bagel.

Just as Isaiah took the bag, another car pulled up in front of him. A man I recognized stepped out—he was the CEO of a tech company, someone my friend worked for.

The CEO walked up to Isaiah, nodding slightly and speaking in an almost submissive tone. Isaiah, on the other hand, looked relaxed. He rarely acknowledged him.

I had heard my friend talk about her superior being a powerful and influential man. Yet, in front of Isaiah, he seemed so small.

Isaiah immediately called me when he reached home. I stared at the caller ID "Honey" on my phone screen. My vision blurred with tears, but I took a deep breath and composed myself before answering.

"Honey, I'm home. I bought your favorite soy milk and bagel," he said.

I kept my voice steady. "Something came up, so I went to the office early. You can have them."

He sounded disappointed. "Alright, honey. I'll make something nice for dinner when you get home."

I simply mumbled an acknowledgment and texted my workplace to take the day off. I had to figure out where Isaiah went every day and get to the bottom of this.

Since there was a coffee shop across the street, I decided to head over. I sat by the window, keeping a close eye on our building.

Around noon, Isaiah finally came out and got back into the Bentley. I slipped on a mask, flagged down a cab, and told the driver to follow him.

Before long, we arrived at an upscale restaurant. The moment the Bentley stopped, the valet rushed to open the door for him. Isaiah handed over the keys like he was used to it.

I followed carefully as he entered a private room. Through the partially open door, I saw several young men dressed in sharp suits. They looked like the typical rich heirs you would see in tabloids.

Pretending to be on a phone call, I loitered in the hallway near the room. From where I stood, I could see the table piled with dishes like lobster, king crab, and caviar—things I would only ever see on cooking shows.

"Isaiah, seeing you in those cheap clothes cracks me up. You're the heir to billions, for crying out loud!"

"When are you going to drop this act? Don't tell me you're actually falling for Aimee Sinclair, that little country bumpkin!"

Isaiah's voice came through clearly, mocking. "Are you kidding me? She's just a distraction and nothing more. She's not worthy of my feelings."

He laughed cruelly. "When I told her I was over a million dollars in debt, she said she'd stick by me and help me pay it off. I've never met anyone more gullible or pathetic in love."

The room erupted in laughter, as if they were all mocking me for my stupidity. At that moment, it felt like someone had plunged a blade into my heart, twisting it until I could hardly breathe.