Chapter 1
For three years, I was basically Jonas Reed's personal ATM.
I juggled three jobs every day just to keep him afloat, bought him pricey camera equipment, and even hooked him up with connections.
And as if that wasn't enough, I had to endure his constant silent treatment and that infamous line from Jonas: "Someone as ordinary as you could never understand art."
Everything changed the night I was delivering drinks at a private club and overheard Jonas in a VIP room, making bets with a bunch of spoiled rich kids.
Jonas sneered, "I just want to see how much longer that bitch Leona can hang on.
"All I have to do is beckon, and she'd crawl back to me just to wash my socks, even if she was on her way to a funeral."
I calmly pulled out my phone.
I transferred the 100 grand I'd saved up over three years, money I'd set aside for his graduation film, straight into his account.
Consider it the funeral fee for our love.
The next moment, a system prompt sounded in my head.
[The charity storyline for the male lead is officially over. Congrats, host. You've just scored a thousand times cashback. Three seconds left until you break free from this tragic script.]
*****
"Leona, why is this wine still not chilled? Are you stupid or something?" Jonas's impatient voice came through the half-open door of the private room.
My hand froze on the tray for a second.
Today was my last day working at this private club.
To scrape together the startup funds for Jonas's new movie, I spent my days writing copy at a marketing agency and my nights waiting tables here.
I kept telling myself that if I could just save up this last 15 grand, Jonas's dreams would finally take flight.
Just ten minutes ago, I was still daydreaming about us standing side by side on the red carpet after he made it big.
A burst of laughter burst out from the private room.
It was Jonas's buddies, all trust fund babies from the scene.
"Jonas, man, you're way too hard on your maid," one of them joked.
"Seriously, she's been bankrolling you for three years. Even if she didn't pull off anything big, you gotta give her some credit for all that effort," another snickered.
Jonas let out a cold, mocking laugh, his voice dripping with contempt.
He sneered, "A maid? She doesn't even deserve that label.
"She's just a clingy dog I can't get rid of.
"Seriously, I bet if I called her in right now, made her chug this bottle, she'd probably thank me for the honor."
My blood ran cold in an instant.
Turns out, in his eyes, I wasn't even worth being called a person.
For three years, I lived in a basement, ate cheap instant food, and pinched every penny just to buy him the best camera lenses.
Whenever he hit a creative wall and started smashing things in a rage, I'd quietly clean up after him.
When he was sick in the hospital, I stayed by his side for three days and nights, barely sleeping, never leaving him for a second.
And after all that, he just called me "a clingy dog he couldn't shake off."
The system's icy, mechanical voice suddenly blared in my mind.
[Attention, host, Jonas's favorability score is now at -100.]
[Pre-script quest "The Loyal Simp" has been completed.]
[Would you like to break free from the script right now and collect your reward?]
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the private room.
The laughter inside died instantly.
Jonas sat right in the center of the leather sofa, his arm draped around a barely dressed starlet.
When he saw me, his brows knotted tightly, and a flicker of disgust flashed in his eyes.
Jonas snapped, "How did you get in here? Who let you in?
"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something? Get out."
The starlet giggled, tracing lazy circles on Jonas's chest with her finger.
"Mr. Reed, so this is your old hag? She's really hideous," she sneered.
If this had been before, I would've nervously apologized and backed out of the room, feeling awkward and embarrassed.
But now, all I saw was a scene so harsh and absurd that it almost made me laugh.
I walked right up and dropped the tray heavily onto the marble coffee table.
The sharp clink of glass rang out, echoing in the room.
Jonas flinched, then his expression darkened with fury.
Jonas barked, "Leona! Have you lost your mind?
"Don't think I won't make you..."
I pulled out my phone and tapped a few times.
"Payment received: 100 thousand dollars."
The automated voice from the app echoed through the quiet room.
Jonas was stunned.
The starlet in his arms was left speechless.
The rich kids around them all gaped, eyes wide in shock.
"The 100 thousand dollars was meant for your film."
I held up her phone, sounding as casual as if I was just commenting on the weather.
"It's yours now."
Jonas's anger instantly turned to shock, then he started looking pretty pleased with himself.
He probably thought I was just trying to curry favor with him, asking for forgiveness.
He pushed the starlet off his lap, crossed his legs, and sat back, acting all high and mighty.
He said, "Good, you finally know your place.
"Since the money's here, I suppose I can let your little outburst slide.
"Drink this wine, and then crawl back home to whip up something to sober me up."
I looked at his self-important, holier-than-thou face and couldn't help but laugh out loud.
I shot back, "Jonas, do you even understand plain English?
"That 100 thousand dollars? It's your funeral money."