Cheated by the Ex Boyfriend

Nathalie…

I gasped but quickly covered my mouth with both hands. The cake I held slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud. My eyes widened in shock as if I had seen a ghost. My heart raced, and for a moment, it felt like my soul was trying to escape my body.

I was disgusted.

I had put up with so much for the sake of the money he provided, the money that eased my financial burden. I could tolerate his coldness and his arrogance, and I had even convinced myself that I could turn a blind eye to his affairs. After all, what was a little infidelity when the bills were being paid? 

But this? This was something I couldn't ignore.

If I had caught him cheating with a girl, I could have forgiven him. I would have found a way to explain it away, to accept it and move on, like I always did. But not this. Not with a boy.

My hands shook as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing. The room felt like it was spinning, and my legs threatened to give out. 

There he was, sitting on the couch, his shirt half-open, a boy nestled between his legs. The boy's head was down, his hands on his thighs. I couldn’t see everything, but I didn’t need to. The scene was clear enough.

"Bella," he said calmly, his voice betraying no shame, no guilt. He sat up straighter, pushing the boy slightly away but still keeping him close. He didn't even seem surprised that I had walked in.

I stared at him, my mind struggling to form words. 

"You... you're gay," I finally stammered, The words felt strange on my tongue, like they didn’t belong in this reality.

He simply shrugged, as if what I had said didn’t matter. As if none of this mattered.

I twisted my mouth, tears were fighting its way out of my eyes. It seemed like someone had crushed my dreams, and hopes. 

I saw him standing up, moving towards me, the curtains of his shirt flapping in the air, only serving me the look of a monster, a disgusting, and gay monster.

I instinctively dragged my feet back, “You know what…. I am breaking up with you. I can date a playboy, but not a gay.” I heard myself saying, no fear of losing my house, because not paying the rental, bills, and utilities hindered my confidence at this point. 

“Don’t you dare come after me. Ever.” Pointing my finger at him, I gritted and turned around. I immediately left the room and ran down the stairs with tears swinging in the air. 

“Bella… stop. Let me explain myself.” He came after me running, but I didn't stop. I would call myself a fool if I cared to listen to his lame excuses. 

I stood at the foot of the staircase, breathless and seething, as he halted midway up the stairs, his smug expression dropping as he registered my fury.

“Don’t chase me now,” I spat the words leaving my lips with a venom I hadn’t known I possessed. “If you come after me, I won’t hesitate to expose everything.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Honey, you’re overreacting. You’ve misunderstood me.”

“Misunderstood you?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. “You were getting a literal blow job from a guy, how else should I take it? Tell me.”

Somewhere deep inside, I marveled at the strength surging through me. There was a time I’d never have dared raise my voice, fearful of losing him. But things were different now; I was leaving of my own will, and there was no turning back.

I turned to head for the door, hoping my exit would speak louder than words. But his guards suddenly blocked my path, positioning themselves in front of the door at his silent command. A single gesture from him and my escape was cut off.

I clenched my fists, heat rising in my chest. “Open the damn door,” I barked at the guard, 

“Tsk, honey,” he said, he sounded carefree as he descended the last few steps, closing the distance between us. “You seem to have forgotten. This is my place, and my guards listen only to me.”

Before I could retort, he was on me, pushing me back against the wall, his hands firm against my shoulders as he pinned me in place. 

I could feel the cold hardness of the wall pressing into my back, his hot, foul breath hovering inches from my face. His eyes darkened, and a twisted grin crept onto his face as he leaned in closer.

"Let go of me,” I hissed, The walls closed in around me, but I refused to break. I wouldn’t let him hold me captive any longer—no matter what it took.

“You’re acting without thinking,” he whispered, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His voice was calm but carried an edge of threat that sent a chill through me. 

“Running away won’t change anything. You’re here because you need me. You always have.”

He knew my weak points and was using them. I laughed at his foolishness and third-class way of trying to stop me from exposing him. 

He was aware of the amount of damage I could cause him by letting the cat out of the bag. Perks of having mutual friends. It was the same friends through whom we met for the first time. 

“Tsk.. tsk… look at your face. You are miserable, Nathalie.” I grinned. Despite the pain thrilling across my wrist due to his tight grip. 

“Look, we can settle the matter. We need each other right now. I know how desperate you are for the sake of money. You need financial support. I need you.” He sounded more like cracking a deal with me, but did he even care whether I was interested in it or not.

“Me? Haha..” I coughed, “You seriously need me? No! Nathalie… you need to correct yourself.” I pushed him away. Rubbing my wrist that had turned red. 

“You don’t need me, but a cover-up, a blanket to hide your filthy affair with another guy.” I pointed towards the guy who was standing on top of the stairs, watching him negotiate with me to save his reputation.

“But let me be very clear with you.” I clicked my finger and targeted my index finger on his face.

“I am not going to be a pig in your fork. The heck with your money and you. Our ways are separate from now on.” I swirled around because I couldn’t stand his presence for a single moment. 

Looking at him makes me feel nauseous.

I spun on my heels, striding toward the door. He didn’t dare come after me, and neither did his guards. My hand closed around the doorknob, but before I could turn it, his voice rang out, cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. 

“Ten million.”

The words echoed in the room, heavy and relentless, crashing over me like a tidal wave, as if his offer alone could drown me and pull me back under his control.

 It didn’t take long for me to understand the significance of his words. He was daringly putting a price tag on me. Like I was nothing but a thing.

“Is that supposed to be enough for you? I mean, I can give you more. Just state the amount.” He tucked his hand into the pockets of his pants, and a calmness was there. 

A sour feeling twisted in my stomach. The nerve of him, thinking he could put a price on me, that he could buy me like a possession, something he could bend to his will. The thought was sickening, the very idea insulting.

He had no idea who he was dealing with.

I stepped toward him, my every move controlled, my composure held tight. 

“There’s a problem with people like you," I said, my voice cold and steady. "You think you can buy everything with your money. But not me.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “Not after the way you've insulted me.”

Then, without a second thought, I raised my hand and slapped him, the sound sharp and satisfying in the silence that followed.

“Watch what I do next,” I said, my voice low with promise. And without looking back, I walked out.