Page 27 of Reckless Billionaire's Ruthless Claim

"Thank you for making this so fucking easy," he barked. "I was just thinking about how to get rid of you."

He pulled out his checkbook, scribbled a number on it, and ripped the check out. Then, he flung it at Ellie.

"There. Get lost!" he roared. "We're done!"

Ellie caught the check mid-air, her fingers curling around it as she stood, fists tight.

Olivia clung to Sawyer, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Are you serious? So, we're really done then? You’re not going back to her?" She searched his face for some hint of softness. "Don’t you have any feelings for her?"

Sawyer snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Of course not. Why the hell would I keep a replacement like her around? Why the fuck would I have any feelings for someone like her?"

Ellie’s heart twisted painfully.

Without another word, she spun around and stormed off, entering the house. The moment she was in, she slammed the door shut behind her. That very moment, her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor. Sobs wracked her body, shaking her to her core.

Outside, Olivia tightened her arms around Sawyer, grinning.

"I really didn’t expect you to break things off with her so quickly," she gushed. "This was such a great surprise, Sawyer."

Her hands slid up his chest, touching his face and turning him toward her. "Now that you’ve made me this happy, I’ll give you a sweet reward."

She leaned in to kiss him, her lips almost brushing his—but Sawyer suddenly snapped out of it.

He shoved her off, eyes hard. "Do you seriously think I left her because of you?" He growled, his voice ice-cold.

He didn’t wait for her answer. He turned and walked away, his steps quick, vicious, his mind elsewhere.

Olivia stood frozen in place, rage burning through her veins as she glared after him.

He really has feelings for that bitch!

***

The Blue Orchid Bar was alive with energy that night. The grand luxury bar was packed with VIPs and high-profile figures, making the manager restless as he kept a close eye on everything. But among all the important guests, Room 300 was the highest priority.

Inside, the wealthiest and most powerful men in the country lounged, making the room nearly untouchable—even the most influential figures needed special permission just to step inside. Security was on high alert, ensuring nothing disrupted the exclusive gathering.

The VIP room was lavishly designed, with a high-end karaoke system mounted on the wall and an expensive set of plush couches surrounding a table loaded with the rarest, most luxurious liquor in existence. Yet, despite the extravagant setup, only a few people occupied the space.

Sawyer sat on a single couch, legs spread apart, his fingers idly swirling the amber liquid in his glass. Opposite him, on the larger couch, were two men who commanded attention with their mere presence.

The first man had sharp green eyes behind golden-rimmed glasses, his penetrating gaze both unsettling and oddly calming. His features were refined—almost too refined, like he was crafted to deceive. He was Damion Cage. His family owned the largest network of hospitals in the country, making him an heir to a vast empire of wealth and influence.

Beside him sat a man with dark hair, even darker eyes, and a rough, dangerous edge that set him apart. He had the kind of presence that made you instinctively wary, as if he could end someone’s life with a flick of a blade and not bat an eye. He was Mason Nightingale. The richest of them all. His empire spanned hotel, finance, and a network of businesses that most people never even knew existed.

Next to them, a girl sat cross-legged on the couch, completely absorbed in the karaoke machine. Her lips moved silently in sync with the lyrics flashing on the screen, even though the music wasn’t playing.

Restlessly, she tapped her foot to the rhythm of the unheard song, downing another glass of whiskey with ease. She had kind eyes, curly hair and soft features, yet there was an undeniable energy to her. This was Stella Gibson, the owner of a much smaller business compared to the giants in the room—a chain of cafés called ‘Licious.’ Yet, she was perhaps the most influential among them, as her café was the central hub where all their friends gathered.

They were Sawyer’s closest friends, his inner circle.

With a frustrated sigh, Sawyer drank another shot of whiskey, and slammed his glass down on the table, making Stella flinch.

“I did everything for Ellie,” he growled, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I gave her everything. And all she does is piss me the fuck off! Did she really have to run away from home?”

Damion quirked a brow, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Isn’t she usually the obedient type? I mean, I’ve never seen her defy you. She always does whatever you say. In all these months, I’ve never once seen her get angry at you.”

Sawyer’s scowl deepened.

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