Page 3 of Reckless Billionaire's Ruthless Claim

He sank onto the opposite couch, far from Alina. Shadows flickered across his face under the lighting, his fingers tapping against his knee. “I know she’s not after my money, but I have someone else. I can’t let her have false hopes.”

He leaned back, closing his eyes tightly for a moment before letting out another deep sigh. “She’ll go home and cry it out, just like always,” he murmured, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the weight of his own words. Taking a small sip of whiskey, he let the familiar burn settle in his chest.

Ellie stepped out of the estate, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she hurried along the dimly lit street, desperate to put as much distance as possible between herself and that place. Her shoulders shook hard, her body trembling with each step, her breathing ragged.

As the footpath ended and she reached the main road, Ellie’s trembling grew uncontrollable. Her shoulders shaking harder, and then, without warning, a loud splutter escaped her lips, breaking the tense silence. Suddenly, she burst into laughter—loud, unrestrained, and almost unhinged.

Her voice echoed in the quiet night as she pulled the card out of her purse. Holding it up, she stared at it with a strange mix of affection and amusement, her giggles only growing louder.

“I really, really, really love money so much!” Ellie jumped up and down, kissing the card in her hand like it was the most precious treasure in the world. A wide grin stretched across her face, her joy almost childlike in its intensity.

Spinning on her heel, she glanced back at the glittering lights of the mansion where the party raged on, the sound of muffled music and laughter seeping into the cold night air, her smile never faltering. Then, with a playful skip in her step, she turned back toward the road.

"You treat me as a replacement for your old love, and I treat you as my personal ATM machine," she muttered, her tone laced with mockery as she snickered. "Good for both of us, you scumbag."

She twirled the card between her fingers and called out loudly into the empty street, "Enjoy your delusions, Sawyer Narcissist Stark. You just paid the price for the privilege of being fooled by me."

Huffing loudly, Ellie pressed the card to her chest, a wide grin stretching across her face. Her laughter rang through the quiet night, light and carefree. With a little twirl, she skipped down the sidewalk, her steps bouncing with excitement as she made her way back home.

***

It was late at night when Sawyer finally returned home. The house was dimly lit, but the lights in Sawyer’s bedroom still glowed softly. As his BMW rolled into the driveway, the maids at the Stark house immediately sprang into action, preparing to care for him.

Ada, one of the older maids who’d worked for the Stark family for years, glanced out of the window as Sawyer exited his car, her eyes widening in panic. Her graying hair was neatly pulled into a bun, and fine lines creased her warm brown eyes. Dressed in a simple black uniform, her frail yet upright posture spoke of years of discipline and quiet loyalty.

She immediately rushed to Ellie’s bedroom, peeking inside.

“Miss Ellie, SNS is home!” she said urgently.

Ada had no idea that SNS stood for ‘Sawyer Narcissist Stark’. Hearing Ellie call Sawyer ‘SNS’ all the time when he wasn’t around, the maids in the house had unknowingly picked up the habit themselves. While they usually addressed him as ‘Mr. Stark’ in his presence, behind his back, the maids had also begun calling him SNS.

None of them knew what the initials truly stood for—they simply assumed it was a sweet, endearing, affectionate nickname or a playful shorthand for Sawyer’s name that Ellie had created. After all, Ellie said it with such ease and a happy smile.

Ellie, who had been lounging on her back with a tablet in hand and a bag of chips by her side, jolted upright. She slapped her hands over her mouth to wipe away the crumbs and sprang out of bed, dashing out of the room.

As Sawyer stepped inside, Ellie hurried to meet him with an eager smile. “You’re back,” she said, her voice bubbling with warmth as she rushed to help him take off his coat. “Welcome home.”

She carefully placed his coat on the couch before grabbing his hand with both of hers, her smile never fading. “Come, I made some soup for you. It’ll help with the stomach ache in the morning.” she added sweetly.

She led him to the dining table, her hands light on his arm as she guided him into the chair. But before she could turn away to fetch the soup, Sawyer’s hand shot out, gripping her arm with unexpected force. He spun her around, pulling her in close.

His other hand slid to her face, his thumb brushing over her lips before he cupped her jaw. His gaze locked onto hers, dark and intense, as if he was trying to read the very depth of her soul.

“You are happy?” he muttered, his voice laced with doubt.

Ellie froze, her cheerful demeanor faltering.

‘Shit. I forgot I was supposed to look sad!’ she panicked internally.

“N-no?” she stammered, quickly softening her expression into a timid, forced smile.

Sawyer’s grip tightened, a faint tremor in his fingers as his eyes searched her face, studying her with a quiet intensity. ‘She loves me so much,’ he thought bitterly, 'she's even faking a smile after the way I treated her tonight, hiding the hurt instead of showing the sadness she must be feeling.’

His chest tightened at the thought, but he remained still, his expression cold and unreadable.

His voice softened just enough to make her shiver, but the sharpness in it never fully disappeared. “You should know your place by now.” He pulled her closer, their bodies colliding in a raw, possessive press as he looked down into her eyes. “If it weren’t for my mom forcing me to date you because you look like the woman I love, you wouldn’t even be in this house.”

Ellie remained silent, staring up at him. Her heart pounded, but she said nothing.

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