The Billionaire's Black Card Getting Rich After My Breakup

The day my ex-boyfriend ran away with the billionaire's delicate little flower, I received the billionaire's Black Card. He was chewing on a cigar, looking down at me. "I'll give you two choices." "Either take the money and be my accomplice, or wait to receive your boyfriend's third leg in a box." I pinched the hot edge of the credit card and suddenly laughed out loud. "Mr. Vance, there is actually one thing you might not know—" "The helicopter your precious Lily used to escape your wedding? My boyfriend stole it." As the metal lighter clicked shut, a predatory smile finally flashed in his eyes. "What a coincidence. I’m hunting down both of those thieves." My phone wouldn't stop vibrating on the couch. Tyler's name was flashing on the screen. I didn't pick up. Last night, he stumbled over his words, claiming he had to go on a "business trip" today. I could smell the stench of his lies right through the phone. A business trip? More like cheating. He was running away to the end of the earth with that delicate little flower, Lily. Fine. It saved me the breath of breaking up with him. The doorbell rang suddenly. It was loud and startling. I looked through the peephole. Several men in black suits stood outside like iron towers. They were silent and menacing. My heart sank. Before I could even react, the lock made a soft electronic beep—they actually had a way to bypass my security lock. My heart skipped a beat. I immediately reached for my phone to call the police. The leader of the men glanced at me, snatched my phone away, and stepped aside. A tall man walked in behind him. It was Christian Vance. His name was practically engraved in gold on the city's financial and gossip headlines. He was Lily's billionaire keeper. He didn't look at me. His gaze swept around my small rented apartment like a searchlight. He examined everything with blatant judgment before his eyes finally landed on me. I stood there like a scared sparrow, not daring to make a sound. I fully believed that the terrifying Christian Vance could make me disappear from this world with a single wave of his hand. But what was he here for? Sex? I was wearing faded loungewear, my hair was a messy bun, and I was standing barefoot on the floor. I probably looked like a wet, pathetic bird. Did I even look like target material? "Chloe?" he spoke. His voice was flat and cold. I nodded, clutching the hem of my shirt tightly. He sat down on my single armchair. He did it so naturally, like a movie scene, as if he owned the place. A bodyguard silently presented a silver briefcase, opened it, and pushed it onto the coffee table in front of me. It wasn't a gun, and it wasn't drugs. There was only a thin, gleaming American Express Black Card. Christian leaned forward. He pulled out a cigar but didn't light it. He just played with it between his fingers. "Tyler ran off with my woman," he said. His tone was as casual as if he were talking about the weather. "I'll give you two choices." "Take this," he tapped the Black Card with his cigar, "be my accomplice, and help me 'invite' her back." He paused, his lips curving into a cold, sharp smile. "Or, you can keep your useless sympathy and wait to receive your ex-boyfriend's... disassembled parts. I highly suggest keeping his third leg." Ex-boyfriend. He used that term. It seemed he knew everything. I looked away from his expressionless face and stared at the Black Card on the table. It lay there quietly, yet it felt burning hot, capable of melting away all hypocrisy and hesitation. Tyler's betrayal was like a poisoned needle, stabbing into the softest part of my heart. Running away together? What a romantic adventure. He used the downpayment we had saved for two years to fund someone else’s fairy tale. Why should he get away with it? I reached out. My fingertips touched the cold edge of the card, and I slowly picked it up. I looked up at the powerful man sitting across from me. "Mr. Vance," my voice was surprisingly steady, "there's actually one thing you might not know."Christian raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. "Years ago, when your precious Lily first tried to escape you... that private helicopter she used?" I paused and let every word sink in. "My boyfriend, Tyler, helped her. He worked part-time at the private aviation club and used his access to steal it from the inside." The air froze for a second. Christian stared at me. A flicker of surprise finally appeared in his bottomless eyes. He didn't speak. He just picked up his metal lighter and flicked it open with a sharp *clack*. A blue flame danced, lighting up his deep eyes. The flame died, and the lighter closed with a crisp click. The surprise in his eyes settled into cold amusement. "What a coincidence," he said slowly, each word dripping with ice. "I was never just planning to capture my runaway bird." "I'm hunting both of these reckless..." "Thieves." "Pleasure doing business with you, Chloe." Before the predatory smile in his eyes could fully fade, I was already holding the Black Card up to the window light, inspecting it closely. The heavy, dramatic tension from a moment ago was instantly washed away by the very real touch of this little card. I had to be realistic. Screw love. Money was the only real thing. I plastered a bright, almost cheeky smile on my face. I leaned in slightly. I could smell the rich, unlit tobacco scent from his cigar. "So... Christian," I waved the card in my hand, keeping my tone light and deliberately friendly. "We're strategic partners now, right?" Christian didn't say anything. He just leaned back, putting the unlit cigar between his lips again. He watched me with amusement, as if watching a puppy perform a trick. Did his silence mean yes? I got bolder. "Then, as your close accomplice," "I should probably know how my 'weapon' performs, right?" I held up the Black Card, my eyes shining. "What's the limit on this? I mean... how much can I spend before it beeps and says 'insufficient funds'?" Christian let out a soft laugh from his nose. I couldn't tell if it was mockery or genuine amusement. "No limit." My heart skipped a beat. I forced myself to stay calm. "Oh... no limit? Sounds fancy. But Christian, you know I'm a very insecure person." I blinked, putting on my most sincere, worried face. "You won't cancel the card after I buy a couple of designer bags, right? That would be a terrible deal for me. I'm taking all the risks here. I don't want to end up with nothing, especially when I have to worry about my ex's... well, parts." I stopped myself just in time, but my message was loud and clear. I wanted the money, but it had to be secure. No take-backs. "Chloe," He spoke. "I, Christian Vance, never take back what I give." "This card is an independent account registered under your name. As long as you bring Lily back to me in one piece, you can spend every penny however you want." "As for canceling it..." He paused, his lips curving into a brutal smile. "It will remain active forever. Unless you betray me." He stood up. His towering figure immediately cast a heavy shadow over me. "And the price of betraying me," he looked down at me, his eyes freezing cold, "is something you will feel much more deeply than Tyler." He left it at that. Without another look, he turned and walked out with his men. The door clicked shut. The room fell into dead silence, leaving only me and the burning hot Black Card in my hand. The smile faded from my face. I looked down at the smooth black surface of the card. It reflected my pale face. *Do whatever I want with it...*I took a deep breath, clutching the card tightly in my palm. The sharp edges dug painfully into my skin. Tyler, Lily, it’s time for me to collect the ticket fees for your romantic fairy tale. And it’s going to be a VIP, sky-high price. Not long after Christian's men left, before I could fully recover from the dizzying shock of the Black Card, My phone buzzed. It wasn't a call. It was an encrypted message from an unknown number. It was brief and carried Christian's commanding tone: [Task: Contact Tyler. Tell him his mother (info attached) has been hospitalized with a sudden illness and wants to see her 'future daughter-in-law.' Lead them to Room 307, VIP Wing of St. Jude's Private Hospital. Time: Before 3:00 PM tomorrow.] Attached below was a detailed file about Tyler's mother's address, daily habits, and even some recent photos. There was also a floor plan of the hospital's VIP wing, complete with marked blind spots of the security cameras. Incredibly efficient. And... incredibly ruthless. He was using Tyler's remaining shred of filial piety and Lily’s inevitable "sweet girl" sympathy to set a perfect trap. I held my phone, my fingers turning cold. Although I had decided to take the money and do the job, actually taking action—personally pushing the man I once loved and his "true love" into the abyss—still made my heart ache slightly. I didn't feel bad for Tyler. I was just lost, realizing what kind of swamp I was stepping into. But when my eyes fell on the Black Card sitting on the coffee table, that hesitation vanished. When Tyler used our savings to spoil another woman, he didn't hesitate for a single second. I took a deep breath, unlocked my phone, and found the contact number that used to be pinned to the top of my Snapchat. It looked so eyesore now. After a few seconds of hesitation, I dialed. The phone rang several times before a hushed, impatient voice answered. I could hear noise in the background. "Hey, Chloe? I'm busy right now. I told you I'm on a business trip..." "Tyler," I cut him off, making my voice sound appropriately panicked and choked with tears. "Don't talk. Just listen to me... your mom, she's in the hospital!" The line went dead silent. Even the background noise seemed to vanish. "My mom? What happened to her?!" His voice pitched up, filled with genuine panic. "A sudden stroke. She's in the ICU at St. Jude's Private Hospital. She just got out of danger and was moved to the VIP wing." I repeated the details from the file smoothly, my tone heavy with grief. "The doctor said she needs rest, but when she woke up, she kept calling your name... and she said she wanted to see your... girlfriend." Saying the word "girlfriend" left a bitter taste in my mouth. "How... how does she know about Lily?" Tyler's voice was clearly panicking. "Who cares how she knows! She's in critical condition right now!" I raised my voice, sounding angry and accusatory. "Your mom is like this, and you can't even bring her back to see her once? To give her some peace of mind? The doctor said emotional stability is crucial for her recovery!" Silence stretched over the phone. I could hear his heavy breathing. I could picture his struggle. On one hand, he had his "true love" on their romantic runaway trip. On the other hand, he had his dying mother who wanted to see her "daughter-in-law." "...Lily is," he hesitated. I immediately cut in, softening my voice. I sounded pleading, with a subtle hint of manipulation. "Tyler, I'm begging you, okay?" "Your mom has always been good to me... She just wants to see you two. Just bring her back for a quick visit. Let your mom have some peace of mind, okay? I've already arranged everything at the hospital. It's a VIP room, highly private. No one will disturb you." I deliberately emphasized "highly private" and "no one will disturb you," implying it was safe from Christian's radar. As expected, Tyler's defense crumbled. "...Which room?" "St. Jude's Private Hospital, top floor of the inpatient building, VIP Section 3, Room 307." I gave him the exact location Christian had specified. "Can you make it before three tomorrow afternoon? She'll be more awake then." "...Okay, I get it," Tyler said in a low voice. "I'll... I'll try." The call ended. I gripped my phone, my palm covered in cold sweat. *Try?* No, you will definitely show up, Tyler. I knew your indecisiveness and self-righteous sense of responsibility all too well. I walked to the window and looked down at the endless stream of traffic. My blurry reflection on the glass showed an expressionless face. The stage was set. The actors were on their way. And I had already secured my front-row VIP ticket, along with enough money to buy the entire theater.The VIP wing of St. Jude's Private Hospital was so quiet you could hear the drip of the IV fluids. I stood behind the fire exit door diagonally across from Room 307, staring through the narrow glass pane. My heart was beating fast, like a trapped rabbit. Time ticked away, minute by minute. Finally, the elevator door chimed open, breaking the silence of the hallway. Tyler stepped out first. His face was filled with exhaustion and anxiety. He looked around warily. Right behind him was Lily. She was wearing a cream-colored dress with a light blue knit cardigan. She kept her head down, her long hair covering half her face. Her small hand clutched Tyler's sleeve tightly. She looked so fragile and helpless. It was a look that could make any man want to protect her. Tyler confirmed the room number, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door of Room 307. There was no answer. He hesitated for a moment, then gently pushed the door open. The moment they both stepped inside, everything changed! The room door slammed shut behind them with a heavy, deafening thud, cutting them off from the hallway. Immediately, Lily’s sharp gasp echoed from inside, followed by Tyler's angry roar. "Christian?! What are you doing here! Let her go!" I pressed myself against the fire exit door, holding my breath. The room was well-insulated, but the violent shouting and struggling could still be heard. Suddenly, the room went quiet. Then came Tyler's broken scream. "Christian! You sick bastard! Let Lily go!" My heart leaped into my throat. Through the crack of the door, I saw the door of Room 307 crack open—perhaps Tyler had tried to run out. But he was instantly pushed back by the muscular bodyguards waiting outside. The door slammed shut again. But in that split second, through the open crack, I saw it. Inside the room, Lily was pinned tightly in Christian’s arms. His tall, commanding body completely overwhelmed her small frame. One hand gripped her waist like an iron band, while the other forced her head back by her neck. He was kissing her. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a punishing, possessive bite. Lily struggled wildly in his arms, her hands pushing uselessly against his chest. Her soft whimpers were muffled, turning into broken cries. And Tyler stood less than two steps away. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale as a ghost, and the veins on his forehead looked ready to burst. He looked like a trapped, dying beast, trying desperately to rush forward, but two bodyguards held him down by his shoulders. He could only watch. He had to watch the woman he loved being claimed by another man in the most humiliating, forced way possible. The mouth that had once sworn eternal love to me was wide open, but no words came out. Only desperate, choking gasps. The door shut mercilessly once again, blocking out the struggle, humiliation, rage, and despair. The hallway returned to a deadly silence. The bodyguards stood at the door like statues. I slid down against the cold wall of the fire exit, swallowed by the darkness. I had imagined Tyler's downfall many times, but seeing it with my own eyes made my chest tighten. It wasn't pity. It was a more complex, chilling realization of how powerless we were. Christian's methods were direct, brutal, and highly effective. He didn't just break you; he destroyed your soul. I could hear Lily’s muffled crying and Christian’s low, commanding voice drifting through the heavy door. Tyler was finished. His love, his dignity—the moment he chose to betray me and run away, they had already been marked with a price tag. And today was the day Christian came to collect the interest. I looked down and pulled the Black Card from my pocket. Its cold touch cleared my chaotic thoughts. I was beginning to realize the price of being an accomplice. I leaned against the wall, my fingers tracing the smooth surface of the card. On the other side of the door, Tyler’s hoarse, cracked voice suddenly shrieked in despair, "Chloe! Chloe, is that you?! Did you set us up?! Show yourself!" He figured it out. Not surprising. After all, I was the one who fed him the "dying mother" bait. I took a deep breath, slipped the Black Card back into my pocket, wiped any expression from my face, and pushed open the fire exit door.