The Billionaire's Bet

Chapter 1 : Who am I?

Is Love too much to ask for?

Love is a strange thing. I've spent my whole life chasing it, holding onto it, believing in it, even when it hurt me more than anything else. But that's the thing about love-it's not always gentle. Sometimes, it's cruel.

I was born into a mixed racial family with a life of wealth and privilege, but it wasn't the fairy tale people imagine.

My name is Evanly Debrue, and I'm 25 years old. I have beautiful golden, brown skin that simmered beneath the sun's beautiful glow, with my short brown curly hair that hung just above my shoulders. I have beautiful green eyes that seemed to blend in with nature itself, piercing and breathtaking. My body was one to be described as curvaceous, with big thighs, curse and of course my ass. I was more on the chubby side and my beauty wasn't striking enough to please my parents, or rather my mother, so I always considered myself as average.

People see the name "Debrue" and think of luxury, status, and everything money can buy. But there are some things money can't fix, like the emptiness that comes from being invisible in your own family.

My parents were the perfect socialites. They threw glittering parties, mingled with the elite, and made it their mission to maintain an image of perfection. But that perfection didn't include me. That honor belonged to my older sister, Lunna.

Lunna was the ideal daughter-beautiful, talented, and endlessly charming. She was everything my parents could have hoped for. Beautiful fare skin, piercing green eyes that could hypnotize you if you staired long enough. She was the main protagonist of every story, stealing the spotlight wherever she stepped foot at. And me? I was the quiet one, the one who stayed out of the spotlight. Where Lunna was gold, I was the tarnished silver hidden in the shadows.

Growing up, my mother barely acknowledged me. She cared about appearances, not emotions, and I wasn't part of her picture-perfect world. My father tried to compensate, but his attention felt like an obligation more than genuine affection. I was a project to him-a little girl to mold into something better, something more presentable.

By the time I turned 18, I'd learned that love in my family came with conditions. So, I focused on things I could control-school, my career, my own version of success. I graduated high school with honors and threw myself into my studies, eventually landing a prestigious position as a nurse in Los Angeles. I thought that if I could just keep moving forward, I'd finally find the life I was meant to have.

But life doesn't always turn out the way you plan.

It was during my third year at the hospital that I met Justin Centiése.
He came in one afternoon with a disarming smile and a confidence that filled the room. He wasn't like anyone I'd met before-he was sharp, witty, and so attentive it made my heart ache.

We started dating soon after, and for the first time, I felt seen. Justin had a way of making me feel like I was the only person in the world who mattered. He wasn't just my boyfriend; he was my escape. For three years, we built a life together, and when he proposed, I thought I'd finally found the love I'd been searching for.

After a year of marriage it was then that I realised that our marriage was full fractures. His love for me was anything but a fairytale. His love was conditional, painful and cold. It was as if something deep within him had shifted. Perhaps it was something I did? If only I saw it then, I would have left while I still had the chance to.

But love is a strange thing.

Present Day

The shrill ring of my phone pulled me from sleep. I groaned, reaching blindly for my glasses on the bedside table. The world came into focus as I grabbed the phone, my father's name flashing on the screen.