She Dumped Me for Poor, I’m a Billionaire

I had planned to spend Christmas Eve with my girlfriend. She had told me she caught a cold and wasn't feeling well, so she decided to stay at her parents' place to rest instead of coming home. That evening, after finishing dinner with my biological parents—whom I had only recently been reunited with—we walked out of the restaurant. I froze in my tracks, my eyes locked on a single spot. My mother followed my gaze and, thinking I was simply missing my girlfriend, teased me with a smile, "When are you going to bring her over for us to meet?" I didn't even need to arrange anything; they had already met. My girlfriend, who claimed to be sick with a cold, was dressed in a revealing, low-cut outfit, a miniskirt, and—contrary to her usual reluctance even when I begged her—black stockings. She was clinging intimately to a man as they entered a hotel. It was impossible to describe what I was feeling at that moment. To save face and wait until I knew what was actually going on, I didn't tell my parents who she was. I made up an excuse, sent them away, and went back. I kept hoping she was just under pressure and forced to work while sick—something she had mentioned before, telling me she sometimes had to dress provocatively to handle clients. I stood outside and waited for her, only to be there all night long.