His Billionaire Betrayal Killed Me,So I Came Back With Proof

A fever hit 103°F in the middle of the night. I called Curtis Delgado. No answer.

Half-delirious, I used his card to buy some fever meds.

By the next morning, "Emma Henson the Gold Digger" was trending.

The endorsement deal I'd fought so hard for? Gone.

My already shaky reputation was dragged through the mud.

I'd barely clawed my way back from bankruptcy, and now I was sinking all over again.

I had no choice but to find Curtis and explain—apologize, even.

But when I reached the door to his private room, I heard his voice. Mocking. Casual.

"You know the best way to control a woman?"