I couldn’t help but Google Chloe’s name once the call ended. Photos of her filled my screen—beautiful, sophisticated, and utterly radiant. I studied her features carefully, feeling an odd sense of familiarity. Then, as I sat cross-legged on the carpet in Julian’s living room, the pieces fell into place.
Damn. That’s why Julian’s ex-girlfriends all seemed vaguely similar.
They shared subtle resemblances to Chloe—her eyes, her smile, her posture. None of them was a perfect match, but together, they formed a mosaic of her. It was as if Julian had spent the last several years trying to recreate Chloe in bits and pieces, unwilling to admit that he still loved the woman who’d left him.
What a peculiar man, I thought. Here he was, one of the richest men in the city, yet even his wealth couldn’t buy him happiness. It was ironic, really, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Money couldn’t buy everything, after all.
But then, an idea struck me—a way to turn this twisted situation into an opportunity. If I could help Julian find closure, perhaps I could also secure the funds I needed for my dream villa. A win-win scenario.
Fueled by this sudden burst of inspiration, I rushed back to Julian’s bedroom, eager to share my brilliant plan with him.
But when I opened the door, I stopped in my tracks.
Julian lay curled up on the enormous bed, looking small and vulnerable, like a dog waiting for its owner to return. His face, usually so composed and confident, was etched with quiet despair.
For the first time, I saw Julian not as the arrogant capitalist who treated people as pawns, but as a man deeply in love—and deeply hurt.
My excitement evaporated, replaced by an unsettling mix of pity and guilt.
Julian Grey, the man who seemed to have everything, was still clinging to the memory of someone who had left him long ago.
I quietly backed out of the room, closing the door behind me. As I stood in the hallway, my resolve wavered. Could I really go through with my plan, knowing how much pain he was in?
A part of me wanted to abandon the idea altogether. But another part— the practical, stubborn part—reminded me that Julian had everything. Love or no love, he still had power, wealth, and influence. Why should he get to keep all of that while I struggled to make ends meet?
Why should he have something I didn’t?