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I am born lucky. One can say I'm a money magnet. I'd even win a car when buying a can of soda. The company relies on the numbers I pick to win bids. We go from the brink of bankruptcy to the third-largest company in the city. Then, during a business trip, I casually buy a lottery ticket and win 3,000 dollars. The newly hired finance manager, Owen Pearson, immediately demands that I turn over the entire prize. When I explain that I bought the ticket with my own money, he flies into a rage. "Any profit generated during working hours belongs to the company! Who do you think you are? How dare you refuse to follow company policy? If you win three million dollars after work, that's your business. But if you win three dollars during work hours, that's company property!" I can't be bothered to argue with him, so I call the CEO's fiancée, Macy Sanford. To my surprise, she agrees with him. "He has a point. If the company hadn't paid for your business trip, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to win the lottery in the first place." Owen is even more smug as he orders, "Just hand over the money. The 3,000 dollars will be deducted from your paycheck, and we'll deduct another 30 thousand dollars as a penalty for embezzling company funds. That should teach you a lesson." I tighten my grip on the lottery ticket and say nothing more. One week later, the company participates in the biggest bidding project of the year. Everyone turns to look at me, expecting me to provide the winning numbers. I simply smile and say, "Sorry. I've already resigned. I have no obligation to fill out the bid proposal anymore."

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."

I need a wife. Now. It doesn’t have to do with love and living the good life. This is all about getting the money my billionaire father left to me. And I’m running out of time. But who proposes to a stranger after the first date? Me. That’s who. As if I have another choice. Luck is on my side though, and a beautiful model shows up in my office. Single? Gorgeous? Funny? All of the above. Our first date goes so well that I feel unsure about my decision to do this thing with her—you know, fake it. I put it off and decide to do it later, to ask for her help after we get to know each other better. But I like her more and more each time we meet, and eventually, offering her a ring isn’t for my dad’s money—it’s because I want her more than anything else in the world. Besides, who’s going to know if it’s fake or real? And does it really matter? Yeah. It does. To her…

Ever since I was a kid, I could see the bank balance floating above people's heads. After I took a summer job at an electronics factory, this ability helped me dodge plenty of workplace scams and shady coworkers. But everything changed on a Friday afternoon when Hailey Marin, the factory beauty, slammed her phone down in front of me. "I thought my online date was a rich heir with sports cars," she complained, rolling her eyes. "Turns out, he's just a broke guy tightening screws in the next workshop. He keeps begging to meet up, and it's driving me crazy. Go meet him and pretend you're me." I looked at where she pointed. A young man in a faded uniform was squatting by the gate, trying to fix a peeling scooter. Nearby workers were openly mocking him. Hailey wrinkled her nose. "Letting a guy like that carry my purse in public would be an embarrassment." I didn't hear a word she said. My full attention was on the numbers hovering above his head. Tens. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands... Hundreds of millions. I nearly choked on my boba. It was a staggering eight-figure balance. And the numbers were still ticking upward in real-time. I grabbed Hailey's arm. "Quick. Tell me every detail you two talked about online." She froze. "Are you crazy? You really want to meet that broke loser?" I nodded, looking at the hidden billionaire outside. "Yep."

Since childhood, I've been able to see the exact amount of money in someone's bank account floating above their head. At the orphanage, I use this gift to pick adoptive parents who look shabby but actually have a billion dollars sitting in the bank. Unfortunately, I only get to enjoy the good life for a short time before the family's real daughter is brought home. She's furious that I've taken her place and makes it her mission to make my life miserable. In order to stay in school, I swallow every insult and endure her bullying. After finally graduating, I'm ready to walk away from this family forever. But the real daughter stops me. She's fuming as she says, "I thought my online boyfriend was a rich guy with a Ferrari, but it turns out he's just a broke loser who rides a rental bike. "If he latches onto me, it'll be a stain on my reputation for life. You go meet him for me. Tell him you're the one he's been dating online." I look in the direction she's pointing and see the man she's talking about. A broke nobody? But the bank balance hovering over his head has ten digits! I swallow hard, my heart racing as I grab the real daughter's arm in excitement. "Quick, tell me everything about your online relationship. I'll go meet him right now!"

On Valentine's Day, I suggest going to a restaurant to celebrate, but my boyfriend, Michael Nelson, refuses. He says impatiently, "Why should we celebrate some lousy holiday? I don't want to waste good money on it." He turns around and happily chats away on his phone, completely absorbed in the conversation. Then, I hear the system's notification going off in my head. "Congratulations. You have received 2,860 dollars." This means that Michael just transferred 1,430 dollars to his side chick. He doesn't know it yet, but I have a system. It's called the Infidelity Cashback System. Every time he spends money on his other woman, I get double the cashback in my bank account.