The Doormat's Secret Billions

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Would you ever fall in love with your own silicone sex toy?

Declan, the untouchable billionaire heir, swirled the amber whiskey in his crystal glass. His eyes dragged over me, cold and hollow.

The rest of his trust-fund bros erupted into raucous laughter, the sound bouncing off the penthouse walls.

His golden girl had just dumped him. So he turned to mehis ultimate, desperate doormatto numb the sting.

He took exactly what he wanted. His fingers bruised my hips, his teeth grazed my jawline, pulling me into a chaotic blur of suffocating heat and raw friction.

There was no gentleness. No restraint. Just absolute, predatory consumption.

Everyone looked at me like I was his most pathetic little plaything. But I just kept my eyes locked on the rapidly climbing zeroes in my offshore bank account.

Right until the week before college started.

Declan's mother, Meredith, wired me the final payment. She slid a perfectly manicured nail across the table, her chin tilted up. "I do love a girl who worships cash more than her own dignity. Now get the hell out of my sight."

I packed a single duffel bag, snapped my SIM card in half, and vanished into thin air.

But later that night, the same cold-blooded heir who treated me like absolute trash

Slashed his own wrists to follow me to the grave.

Chapter 1

I never expected to cross paths with Declan again.

Back when I faked my own death, the news of his suicide over lost love had blown up all over New York.

I actually let myself be delusional for a hot second. Sitting in a tiny dorm room halfway across the world, I poured my heart out to Avery. "Do you think Declan actually had feelings for me?"

She forwarded a bunch of leaked screenshots to my phone, popping that little fantasy bubble right then and there. "He didn't try to kill himself because you died, babe. Iris's family was forcing her into an arranged marriage. Declan slashed his wrists to rebel against Meredith and protect Iris."

My fingernails dug into my palms. Embarrassing.

But hey, at least Meredith was generous. I took the eight-figure balance in my offshore account and paid for my entire Ivy League education.

Five years later, corporate transferred me back to the US. First high-society gala I attended in Manhattan. And there was Declan.

After spending nearly a decade practically kissing the ground he walked on, I walked right up to him. I wasn't just catching up; I needed to pitch him as a potential client for the firm. "Declan, hi. I"

He didn't even blink. He just dragged his gaze away, staring right through me like I was invisible.

My hand hung in the air, a pathetic punchline to a joke nobody laughed at.

Thank god a guy from my team stepped in. He dropped a heavy arm around my shoulders. "Daisy, let's grab a drink, yeah?"

I flashed a bright, practiced smile. I didn't notice the suffocating, pitch-black stare burning into my spine as I walked away.

The gala blurred into a haze of expensive champagne. Someone practically shoved my dizzy body into the backseat of the corporate town car.

The heavy door slammed shut.

A massive, calloused hand clamped down on the back of my neck, forcefully pinning me into the pitch-black shadows of the leather seat.

His chest pressed against my spine like a branding iron, suffocating me with an aggressive, predatory wave of pure male pheromones. My breath hitched.

I thrashed against him, but a sudden, freezing weight clamped down around my ankle.

That familiar voice slithered directly into my ear, wrapping around my senses like a venomous snake. His raspy breathing hitched, dripping with a sick, twisted thrill.

A metallic click echoed in the tight space. Declan snapped the padlock shut on the chain.

The arm crushing my waist dragged me flush against his lap. "Lock you up forever. Then you can't run, can you?"

The dark timber of his voice vibrated against my collarbone. "Baby. That summer. I should have wrecked you so completely you wouldn't even have the strength to crawl away"

A violent shiver ripped through my spine. Flashes of our twisted past violently crashed back into my mind.

Declan was the ultimate prize. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous, swimming in billions, and spoiled rotten.

The sole heir. Slapping a ring on him meant taking control of the most ruthless empire in New York.

He had a line of trust-fund princesses and supermodels wrapping around the block. He treated them all like dirt.

Except for me.

Because human nature is sick like that. People always crave the one thing that doesn't belong in their pristine little world.

The very first time he kissed me, his face was twisted like he was marching to his own execution. The second our lips parted, he actually gagged.

Look, I know I lacked self-respect back then. But I wasn't bulletproof. Especially when I scrolled through my phone at 2 AM and saw his private story. My chest caved in.

[ Felt like eating actual trash. ]

I dug my fingernails into my thighs, fighting back the burning sting in the back of my throat.

My phone screen lit up the pitch-black room. An Amex Black Card notification flashed.

[ $500,000 USD transferred. ]

I sucked the tears right back up.

That was my hazard pay for playing Declan's pathetic shadow. Meredith literally paid me under the table to babysit her psychotic son and scare off the gold diggers.

Chapter 2

I clawed my way to the top of the candidate pool for this gig.

Meredith had looked me up and down, blowing a thin stream of cigarette smoke into the air. "Ugly, and a greedy little opportunist. Exactly the kind of rat I need."

Not a single word of that felt good.

"Babysit him. A hundred thousand a month. Keep the gold diggers away, and I'll bump it to half a million."

Now that, I liked hearing. My blood practically hummed.

I was eight years old when I got dragged out of a drug-riddled, violent trailer park and dumped into a Manhattan penthouse. A total outsider.

Declan was obsessed with Iris, the untouchable heiress. Just like a bad movie, the golden girl always left for Europe.

Declan chased her all the way to JFK to confess. Standing in the middle of the terminal, I have no idea what she whispered to him.

But on the walk back to the car, the muscles in his jaw locked tight enough to snap bone.

On the drive back, he finally turned that dangerously perfect face toward me. "Piper, are you really that obsessed with me?"

It was muscle memory. I leaned in, plastering on the most pathetic, eager smile I could muster. "I'm crazy about you."

His dark eyes locked onto mine, dropping the verdict with absolute, chilling calm. "Then let me mess around with you."

I widened my eyes, nodding frantically. "Does that mean I'm your girlfriend?"

He reached out. His knucklespale, long, and coldscraped against the shell of my ear.

That aggressively handsome face curled into a vicious smirk. "You're so easy to trick, you little idiot. Imagine how ugly our kid would be."

The wind in the convertible whipped through his dark, messy curls. Fuck. How could a real, breathing human look exactly like Lucifer himselfso dangerously flawless it made you want to drag him down to hell?

I reached up, my fingers wrapping around his bicep like a desperate weed. "I don't care. I still love you. Even if you have other girls, I love you."

"If the kid is ugly, we just won't have one. It's only you."

I stared right into his eyes, mentally visualizing him as a massive, golden ATM spewing hundred-dollar bills. My vision actually blurred with tears. He had probably never seen a woman degrade herself so completely.

A dark chuckle slipped past his lips. He smirked, shooting me a dismissive glance. "Shut the fuck up and stop crying. Be my girlfriend, then."

I bawled even louder. To him, it probably sounded like absolute, pathetic joy.

He let out a harsh scoff. "Don't die of happiness, little idiot."

But I physically couldn't stop. Because my phone had just vibrated with an alert. Meredith had just wired a flat ten million dollars straight into my offshore account!

For years, I played the role of a rabid junkyard dog guarding its territory. I stood squarely in front of Declan. I ripped apart every single girl who tried to get closethe good ones, the toxic ones, all of them. I made an absolute army of enemies.

The second word got out that Declan and I were official, the Upper East Side mean girls swarmed. Gorgeous, plastic-perfect heiresses circled me like vultures.

"You don't actually think he likes you, do you?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately, trash?"

I shrugged, totally unfazed. "Yeah. It told me I'm the one sleeping in his bed tonight."

Declan was slouched on the leather sofa just behind me. A low, dark laugh rumbled in his chest. "Piper. Get over here."

If I was actually a dog, the entire room would have seen my tail wagging like a helicopter rotor. He gave a single, lazy hand gesture, and I practically threw myself at him.

Straddling his lap gave me a massive ego trip. Total unhinged stage-five clinger energy.

I dug my fingers into the expensive fabric of Declan's shirt, wrapping my arms tight around his waist. I glared right back at the plastic faces crowding us. "He's mine."

The VIP section erupted. Waves of condescending, vicious laughter bounced off the walls. The girls ignored my existence, stepping closer to throw themselves at Declan.

Declan let me grind against his lap without pushing me off. He leaned back, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, a dark, arrogant smirk playing on his lips. "Unless you want my little guard dog to rip your throats out, I suggest you back the fuck up."

He never lacked women. He lacked peace and quiet. Every single trust-fund baby who swore they'd tame him took three steps back. Dozens of eyes locked onto me, practically shooting poison darts at my face.

I suddenly realized something. It was like the entire elite upper crust of New York was drooling over the most premium cut of meat. They had bottomless bank accounts and ruthless connections.

But in the end? This worthless, trailer-park nobody swallowed him whole. It was fucking hilarious.

The crowd finally scattered. Declan's heavy palm landed on the back of my head, his fingers rough as they tangled in my hair. "Such a good little dog."

Chapter 3

I pushed my luck, leaning in close. "Do I get a reward?"

That familiar, dead-inside look washed over his face.

His impossibly perfect features leaned in. Closer. Closer.

But his lips never actually touched mine. "Next time," he muttered, shoving me aside.

He walked out to go street racing with his boys.

Iris was studying music in Europe. The elite crowd constantly worshipped her, always making sure to step on my throat in the process.

[ You probably don't even know how many keys are on a piano, do you, trash? ]

I typed back.

[ I don't. Declan and I just use it as a bed. When we ruin it, he just buys a new one. ]

The group chat went completely dead.

Declan wasn't in this specific chat. That was the only reason I could pull this off.

Because in reality, the guy literally gagged if his mouth got too close to mine.

But who gave a damn? I won that round.

By nightfall, reality slapped me right back in the face.

Someone texted me a screenshot. Iris had just soft-launched a new boyfriend on Instagram. Then came the video, attached with a caption.

[ Declan never drinks this heavy. Iris going public actually broke him. ]

I tapped play.

Declan was slumped over, white-knuckling a bottle of scotch. He was actually crying, slurring her name over and over. "Iris Iris"

It was pathetic, honestly. Almost made you feel sorry for him. Though, if he was crying completely naked, it might actually be hot

My thoughts violently cut off.

A heavy glass bottle shattered directly against the side of my skull.

Warm, thick blood instantly flooded into my left eye.

My mother barged into my tiny room. "Have you thought about it?"

I shook my head.

Her hand cracked across my left cheek, then my right. The sharp sting swelled immediately.

I pressed my tongue against my bleeding back molar and forced a bright, sick smile. "Mom, are there literally no other men left on the planet?"

A sixty-eight-year-old pervert or a twenty-four-year-old roided-out psycho. Either way, it was a death sentence.

She blew out a cloud of cheap cigarette smoke, her voice dripping with acid. "That sick old freak is willing to pay off my five-hundred-grand gambling debt. Unless I drag you into his bed, how the hell else am I supposed to get that kind of cash?"

A freezing chill ripped through my veins.

I forced my lips to stay curved up. "What if I scam Declan? I can squeeze six hundred grand out of him. How about that?"

Her eyes dragged up and down my bruised face. She scoffed. "You think rich people are blind? If you don't want to eat trash, you think a billionaire heir does?"

I swallowed the metallic taste in my mouth. "I have a way. Just give me one month."

One month, and the final payment clears. Absolute freedom.

She never knew about my real job. She thought I was flipping burgers for minimum wage just like her. Every single month, I put on a pathetic crying act to make her believe she was successfully stealing every last dollar of my paycheck.

"We'll see what you can do. Besides, I've got your social security card and passport locked up. Where the hell are you gonna run?"

After she left, I immediately pulled a burner phone from a hidden compartment under my bed, expertly logging into the dark web to check the status of my forged passport.

The door clicked shut.

I crawled off the mattress and dragged myself over to the cracked mirror. I wiped at my eyes, smearing blood and tears across my swelling cheek.

God, I looked hideous. Once I get that cash, I'm fixing this damn face.

Anyone who tells me I look like a Victoria's Secret model is getting an eight-hundred-dollar tip!

Declan flew out of the country. Rumor had it he went straight to Europe for Iris. Rumor had it they were officially together now. Every single bored trust-fund baby DM'd me the updates just to watch me bleed.

[ Piper, you are an absolute joke. ]

I spammed them with nine different crying emojis.

[ I don't care. I love him. It's normal for rich guys to have other girls, as long as he still comes back to me ]

The reply came instantly.

[ You are an absolute, pathetic doormat. ]

I just smiled.

My screen lit up. Another five million dollars had just dropped into my offshore account.

Meredith summoned me to her estate for dinner. She was icy, demanding, always staring down her perfect nose at the rest of the world.

But for once, she actually handed out a compliment.

"You're slightly less hideous. And even greedier. With that kind of ruthless survival instinct, you'll thrive anywhere once you leave this family."

I forced a wide, blinding smile. "Thank you for the opportunity, ma'am."

She took a slow, elegant sip of her vintage wine.

Chapter 4

"Your offshore account and new Social Security number are set. The final two million dollars will clear the second you vanish permanently."

She slid a matte-black Amex across the marble table.

I practically shot out of my chair, dipping my head in a rapid, exaggerated bow. "Ma'am, you are literally a godsend!"

I smiled so hard my cheek muscles actively cramped. A flicker of pity and raw mockery flashed through her pitch-black eyes.

Two million bucks. To completely buy out a human life. We both walked away feeling like we had just robbed the other.

Meredith felt totally secure using me. She knew Declan wouldn't fall for a nobody. And she knew I worshipped dead presidents way more than I could ever worship some billionaire god. I was practical. A safe bet.

Mid-July hit. Declan flew back to the States.

He looked completely revitalized, practically glowing with arrogance. I knew exactly what happened. He finally locked down his golden girl. And pretty soon, I was going to get my own life back.

Over the years, I bled for him. I took punches, caught a knife, and even got dragged into a ransom kidnapping.

When his G-Wagon rolled down a ravine during a reckless off-roading trip, I risked my own neck crawling into the crushed chassis to drag his unconscious body out.

I shattered my leg and ripped a fingernail entirely off the nail bed doing it.

I became an absolute legend. After that, the entire New York upper crust knew. Declan had a violently obsessed, stage-five clinger. A girl who would literally die for him. A girl who viciously attacked anyone who dared to look his way.

I put my life on the line to play his ultimate doormat. Because to me? Being broke hurt a hell of a lot more than bleeding. Nobody ever questioned my sick devotion. Not even him.

For the rest of the summer, Declan was heading out to the Hamptons family beachfront estate to escape the heat.

At the sprawling dining table, he carelessly tapped his knuckles against the mahogany. "Piper. Pack your bags. You're coming with me."

The oxygen instantly sucked out of the room. Meredith's silver knife and fork hovered dead still over her porcelain plate.

Her thumb pressed down hard against the silver handle, perfectly mimicking the pressure of crushing a cockroach. "Declan. Since when do you willingly spend alone time with her?"

Normally, if Declan spoke ten sentences to me a day, nine of them were, "Get the fuck out of my face." The tenth was usually, "Piper, stop breathing my air, you're making me physically sick."

The entire staff knew he avoided me like the literal plague. So right now, the atmospheric pressure in the room totally flipped. Meredith's icy radar locked onto him. Then onto me.

I scrambled to prove my loyalty. "Ma'am, I only take orders from you."

Declan's jaw locked tight enough to pop. A harsh scoff ripped from his throat. "Whose fucking dog are you exactly, Piper?"

He kicked his chair back. "Fine. She stays. Bring Iris back."

That was the exact second I realized Meredith was the one who forced Iris to Europe.

To an apex predator like Meredith, losing control over a pawn was a disaster. Declan was her flawless masterpiece. If the puppet developed its own attachments, it might realize it had free will. It might fight back. Meredith needed him obedient.

I had seen what Declan looked like behind locked doors, violently jerking himself off to a torn photo of Iris.

It was a chaotic, unhinged hurricane of raw obsessionhis eyes rolling back, breath shattering, his face contorted in sheer, suffocating agony.

He was addicted to her.

"Bring Iris back, then! Who the fuck wants to be stuck in a house with this trailer-park trash!" Declan's fist slammed into the table, rattling the crystal glasses. "You really think you can keep me on a leash forever!"

Declan had these explosive, terrifying episodes. The family PR team strictly labeled it 'temporary hysteria.'

Whenever it hit, he shredded everything in his path, completely careless about his own bleeding knuckles. He started swiping perfectly good china onto the floor. Plates shattered everywhere.

"Declan, you're having another episode," Meredith stated, her voice dead flat.

"You're the one who's fucking sick, Meredith!"

He froze, his palms violently slamming flat against the dining table. He leaned in, locking eyes with his mother at the head of the table. His irises were blown wide and bloodshot.

Thick blue veins popped along his forehead. Even inches away from totally losing his mind, he still looked like absolute, untouchable royalty.

Chapter 5

He stood there, radiating pure, suffocating danger.

"Call Dr. Elias," Meredith ordered, her voice dead calm.

The family doctor lived on the estate, barely a minute away. The needle pierced skin. A heavy dose of sedatives was pushed directly into Declan's veins. He was forcefully restrained and dragged upstairs.

By sunset, I was handed his dinner tray. The estate staff stared at me like I was walking straight into a meat grinder. Like the second I stepped into Declan's room, toxic vines were going to shoot out and violently strangle me.

I walked up the sweeping staircase, balancing the heavy silver tray, and pushed the heavy oak door open.

The room was totally trashed.

"Declan," I called out.

"Lock the door." His voice was rough, scraping against the suffocating silence of the room. It carried a heavy, gravitational pull that dragged me straight toward him.

I twisted the deadbolt. Click. I stepped closer.

The silk sheets hung loosely off the edge of the mattress. He was sprawled diagonally across the bed. His neck was tilted back, the sharp lines of his Adam's apple totally exposed. It was infuriating how a guy could look so perfectly put together even when he was completely wrecked.

"Take care of it for me." It was a direct, absolute order. His tone was dead flat, like we were discussing the weather.

"I don't know how."

He tilted his head back, exposing the sharp, razor-like line of his jaw. The thick blue veins on his neck pulsed visibly with his heavy breathing, like a savage beast trapped in a cage, desperately craving its prey.

"Just do it like the last time," he muttered, his voice dropping an octave. "Like when I did it myself. You were secretly watching, weren't you?"

He exhaled a hot, heavy breath. "Do it. Or I'll bite you."

Declan had dark, twisted habits. He was absolutely obsessed with biting. He'd sink his teeth into the soft skin of my forearm, my shoulders, my collarbone. Claimed it was an oral fixation he never outgrew.

"If it's not you, it'll be someone else. Meredith has me on a damn leash. There isn't a single other girl in this house."

I muttered defensively, "I'm a girl, too."

A dark, vicious smirk curled his lips. "Please. A piece of dead wood doesn't have a gender." His jaw clenched. "Hurry the fuck up, Piper. Unless you want me to rip your throat out."

I slowly dragged my feet toward the edge of the mattress. My shaking hands pulled back the heavy fabric at his waist.

His muscles violently twitched the second the cold air hit his skin. His abs were deeply carved, ridges of hard muscle tensed tight, with thick veins snaking beneath his skin.

He grabbed a handful of the silk sheet, crushing it in his fist and biting down hard on the fabric. "Iris" he groaned, the sound utterly broken.

"Do you want me to grab a picture of her?" I asked.

His jaw locked tight. "Great idea."

I turned to move, but his massive arm shot out. He hooked me around the waist and yanked me violently closer. His amber eyes were blown out, pupils dilated until they were pitch black, locked onto my face.

"Forget it. Too much effort. I'll just picture it myself."

"Oh."

I suddenly felt like I had my hand on a live wire. I listened to his fractured, heavy breathing. The broken, ragged noises catching in his throat. I slowly lifted my head.

I locked eyes with him. I thought he had his eyes closed the entire time, totally lost in his fantasies about Iris. But I was wrong.

His head was slightly tilted. Every single movement my hands made was completely exposed to his dark, consuming stare.

"Piper."

"Yeah?"

His left hand crushed the bedsheets until his knuckles turned pure white. His voice was an unhinged, shattered rasp. Sweat beaded along his dark eyelashes.

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily, looking like a lethal, beautiful demon dragging a sinner straight to hell.

"Do you want a taste?" Declan was sprawled on his back, lifting his head slightly. His pitch-black eyes were clouded with thick, heavy lust. It was a suffocating vortex pulling me straight under