The Billionaire Gardener

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I'm marrying this trash the second I graduate. That was Owen's promise when I paid his tuition.

Today, I come home to find him planning an engagement with someone else.

The girl points at me. Who is she?

The maid's daughter, Angela spits. Nobody.

Owen stays silent. He looks me in the eye. No love. No recognition. Just ice. He turns away to discuss ring sizes with her.

I freeze. The betrayal hits harder than a punch.

I remember the three jobs I worked to keep him alive. I remember how he fought his billionaire family for me.

"She is nothing but gutter trash!" his mother had screamed.

He laughed at her then. Lazy. Protective. He swore he would make me his wife.

But money changes everything.

To him, I really am just the maid's daughter now.

Chapter 1

Walking in on them didn't panic anyone.

Angela knew she had won.

She knew I loved Owen too much to cause a scene.

She knew I wouldn't dare upset him.

And Owen?

He just didn't care.

Sloane, the heiress sitting across from him, tilted her head. "Owen, who is she? I feel like I see her every time I visit."

Angela waved her hand dismissively. "Just the maid's daughter. Sharon, take your daughter outside."

Sloane lost interest in me immediately.

She placed a hand on Owen's arm. "You didn't answer me. Our engagement party. Next month. Does that work?"

I looked at Owen.

He looked back.

For a split second, our eyes locked.

Then he looked away. Flat. Empty. Like looking at a wall.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

A sharp, physical pain tore through my chest.

The air in the room felt too thin.

"Whatever," Owen said. His voice void of emotion. "You decide. I have no opinion."

My mother, Sharon, dragged me out to the back garden.

Her hands shook as she poured me a glass of water. "Violet, you saw that. Owen agreed to the marriage alliance. He is never going to marry you."

She looked at me with pity. "What are you going to do? Are you going to keep living here?"

I gripped the cold glass until my knuckles turned white.

I stared out at the manicured lawn. "No."

I forced the words past the lump in my throat. "I am moving out. Immediately."

Sharon blinked.

She didn't expect me to be this calm.

She didn't know this wasn't the first time.

Sloane.

Heiress to the Song Corp empire. Old money.

At first, Angela just invited her over for dinner.

Then she pushed Owen to drive her home.

One night, I came out of my bedroom to get water.

I saw them in the garden.

Sloane standing on her tiptoes. Pressing a kiss to his cheek. Then running away, blushing.

Owen stood there. Expressionless.

He turned and saw me through the glass doors.

He didn't explain. He didn't panic.

He just watched me.

Waiting.

Waiting for me to scream. To cry. To ask him why.

I stepped back. My breath hitched. "I I'm going back to my room."

"You should sleep early."

I fled.

Like a coward.

I don't know why I held on for so long back then. Maybe because I still loved him.

But now?

I let out a shaky breath.

I am finally done.

Chapter 2

I sat in the garden for hours.

I waited until the laughter died down. Until the engine of her car faded into the distance.

Only then did I open the sliding glass door.

The living room was quiet.

Owen was the only one left.

I let out a long breath. The air felt heavy in my lungs.

I walked over and sat on the sofa opposite him. "Owen. I am moving out."

He didn't look surprised. He didn't look anything.

Silence stretched between us. Thick. Suffocating.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was low. Rough. "I will compensate you. Name your price. Anything you want."

I rested my chin in my hand. I pretended to think. "Okay. Open a bakery for me."

But not as compensation.

"Consider it repayment. For the three jobs I worked to put you through college. After this, we are even. We don't owe each other a thing."

Owen's hand was resting on the table.

At my last words, his fingers curled inward. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

A beat passed.

"Done. Pick any storefront downtown. It is yours."

Five years.

We had known each other for five years.

It took five minutes to end it.

No screaming match. No crying. No begging.

Just a transaction.

Maybe that is how it ends when the love is gone. Efficient. Cold. Dead.

I turned my head to look out the window.

The sunset had turned the sky the color of burnt caramel.

I stood up. "It is getting late. Sorry to intrude, but I have to stay one more night. I will be gone first thing in the morning."

Owen pressed his lips into a thin line. "Nobody is chasing you out. Finding a new apartment takes time. Stay here. Look for a place slowly."

I shook my head. "No. It would be too awkward if I ran into your fiance."

The word hung in the air.

Fiance.

It was the first time either of us had acknowledged Sloane out loud.

The atmosphere instantly froze.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Owen looked down. His eyelashes trembled slightly. "I am sorry."

I stared at the tips of my shoes.

I didn't answer.

I didn't know what he was sorry for.

For breaking his promise to marry me after graduation?

Or for falling out of love with me without even realizing it?

Chapter 3

It felt like Owen and I were never really together.

Back in high school, I lied about my age to work multiple jobs.

He would wait for me at the dessert shop after his late-night study hall.

One of my coworkers winked at me. "Hey, Violet. Is this your boyfriend?"

I shook my head frantically. "No! He is my brother! He is still in school. Top of his class. Why would he have a dropout girlfriend like me?"

Owen stood there in his faded uniform. Arms crossed. His eyes were cold as he watched me lie.

In reality, he was six months older than me.

That night in our cramped rental apartment, Owen crossed the line.

He didn't just walk in. He invaded my space.

He grabbed my waist and hoisted me onto the table. The wood dug into my thighs.

He didn't kiss me gently. He claimed me.

His teeth sank into the corner of my mouth. A sharp sting. The copper taste of blood.

He pulled back, his eyes dark and heavy.

He let out a scoff. "Tomorrow, when your coworkers ask about that mark"

His thumb brushed the wound he just made. "Are you actually going to tell them your brother did it?"

My hand flew to my mouth.

I shrank back against the wall. My heart hammered against my ribs.

I didn't dare provoke him. Not when he looked at me like that. Like he wanted to devour me.

Owen pulled me back.

He buried his face in my neck. Inhaling my scent.

"Big sister."

His voice vibrated against my skin. Low. Rough.

"Date me."

I pushed against his shoulders. My resolve was crumbling, but I held the line. "No. We agreed. After graduation."

I glared at him, trying to hide my trembling hands. "You don't want to date, Owen. You just want to kiss."

The boy smirked. A dangerous, arrogant curve of his lips. "Yeah. But I only want to kiss you."

But Owen had just graduated high school when everything changed.

We never got the chance to talk about us.

The Xie family found him. They took back their long-lost son.

Angela refused to let Owen take me with him.

She went from polite persuasion to a full-blown breakdown. "Owen! Just give her some money! That is enough of a reward!"

She pointed a trembling finger at me. "She is just a dropout! A working-class nobody! Bringing her back will only drag you down. She is useless to you!"

Owen laughed. Lazy. Unbothered. "Oh? Then you are going to lose your mind when you find out I am marrying her. The second I graduate college."

Angela's face turned the color of ash. "I will never agree to that."

"I don't need anyone's agreement."

Owen didn't even look at her. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.

The farce ended with Angela compromising.

Barely.

She had conditions. "You cannot date for now. Whatever happens between you two wait until Owen graduates university. Then we will talk."

Owen opened his mouth to argue.

I squeezed his hand. I stopped him. "It is okay. This is enough."

At first, I thought Angela just needed time to accept me.

I was naive.

Later, I realized the truth.

She was waiting.

She was playing the long game.

Waiting for Owen to become the heir to the Xie empire.

Waiting for the gap between us to widen into a canyon.

Waiting for our feelings to fade.

Waiting for Owen to realize that to him, I didn't matter at all.

Chapter 4

I don't remember exactly when Owen changed.

I just know the silence between us grew. Like a weed choking out a garden.

Conversations became short. Answers became one-word grunts. It felt like we were speaking different languages.

I realized he looked down on me one Saturday.

He brought his college friends home.

I was in the living room, helping Sharon mop the floors.

Zane, one of his rich friends, let out a sharp laugh. "Hey, Owen. Rumor has it you used to slum it with a working-class girl."

He looked me up and down. His eyes full of amusement. "Must be this one. The vibe is unmistakable."

Another friend scratched his head. He smirked. "Tragic. If you cheapen yourself, sweetheart, don't expect anyone else to value you. Helping the help? What goes through your head?"

Their eyes bore into me. Like I was a joke. A sideshow attraction.

I gripped the mop handle. My knuckles turned white.

I stood there. Frozen. Awkward. Ashamed.

Owen didn't look disgusted. He didn't look anything.

He just stood there. The center of gravity in the room. Absolute. Unmovable.

I moved to pour him a glass of water. Instinct.

Owen raised a hand. He stopped me. "Violet. Go to your room."

His voice was flat. A command. Not a request.

He turned his back on me. He led his friends to the basement home theater.

He didn't look back once.

The next day, I tried to explain.

I told him I couldn't just live here for free. I couldn't sit around while Sharon worked. I needed to feel useful.

Owen just gave a noncommittal hum.

He scrolled through his phone. Indifferent.

A moment later, he spoke. His voice cool. Detached. "Just don't do it again."

I opened my mouth to say more.

He grabbed his car keys and walked out.

Even on holidays, he was rarely home.

It felt like he was avoiding me. Avoiding the reminder of who he used to be.

I stared at the door long after he left.

A memory of the old Owen tried to surface. The boy in the faded uniform.

But it was blurry.

Two years. That was all it took to erase him.

I finished packing.

Three large suitcases stood by the door.

One contained my old clothes. My old life.

The other two were filled with the luxury bags, clothes, and jewelry Owen had given me.

I didn't leave them behind.

I wasn't trying to be noble.

I had been poor. I knew the bite of hunger. I wasn't going to throw away money just to prove a point.

Chapter 5

The next morning.

Owen was already sitting in the living room.

He was dressed. Immaculate.

When he saw me coming down the stairs, he grabbed his car keys. "I am driving you."

"No need." I gripped the handle of my suitcase. "I called an Uber. It will be here in two minutes."

He walked over and took the suitcase from my hand.

His grip was iron. His tone brooked no refusal. "Cancel it. I am taking you to the mall to buy essentials. Then I am taking you to your new apartment."

He turned and walked out the door.

He was tall. His stride was long. I had to jog just to keep up with him.

"Owen. Give me my luggage back."

He ignored me.

He popped the trunk and swung my bag inside.

I lunged forward.

Before he could slam the lid shut, I grabbed the handle and hauled the heavy suitcase back out.

My chest heaved. I was gasping for air.

Owen frowned. His brows knit together in annoyance. "What is your problem? Being frugal has always been your whole life philosophy, hasn't it? I am saving you the fare. Why are you fighting me?"

To him, my dignity was just me being dramatic.

To him, I was just being petty.

He stepped closer.

He loomed over me. His gaze was heavy. Oppressive.

"Speak, Violet. After all these years, you still do this. You bottle everything up. You refuse to communicate."

The sky was a dull, flat grey.

The air felt heavy. Pressing down on my lungs.

I looked down.

I stared at the asphalt until my vision blurred. "Do you remember the rainstorm?"

My voice was quiet. Trembling.

"I was hiding at the bus stop. I called you. You said you were nearby. You said you would pick me up. Then, five minutes later, you texted. You said something came up. You told me to take a taxi."

Owen leaned back against his car. He crossed his arms. Casual. "Yeah. So? You are holding a grudge because I didn't pick you up once? You are never going to ride in my car again because of one time?"

I ignored the mockery in his tone.

I looked up.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. "Actually. I saw you."

My heart hammered a broken rhythm against my ribs.

It hurt.

"I saw your car parked across the street."

I took a breath. The air felt like broken glass in my throat.

"I know why you didn't come. You saw I was soaked. You didn't want me ruining your leather seats. And I know you have always hated driving me anywhere. Because you were terrified your friends might see us together."

The silence was absolute.

It was so quiet I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. I could hear his breath hitch.

The humiliation of that day washed over me again.

Visceral. Burning.

It felt like bile rising in my throat.

But it was fading. Just a little bit.

I spoke slowly. "So, you don't need to force yourself to do something you hate just because you feel guilty. And now I don't want to sit in your car either."

Owen didn't move.

He didn't speak.

In the heavy silence, a black sedan pulled up.

The Uber driver got out. He looked between me and Owen. Sensing the tension. "Are both of you passengers?"

I shook my head.

I opened the door and slid into the back seat. "No. Just me."

As we drove away, I looked in the rearview mirror.

Owen was still standing there.

Frozen.

Halfway to my new place, it started to rain.

A light, grey drizzle.

I stared out the window. The world blurred into streaks of grey and green.

After a long time, I let out a sigh.

The air left my lungs, and with it, the weight on my chest.

I let the rain wash it away.

The final chapter of my terrible first love.

Chapter 6

Once the storefront was chosen, the renovation schedule kicked into high gear.

During the construction, Owen showed up every week to supervise.

One afternoon, Steve, the painter, wiped his hands on a rag and looked between us.

He grinned. "So, when are you two lovebirds tying the knot?"

I shook my head frantically.

I shut that down immediately. "You misunderstood. This is the landlord."

Steve looked awkward. "My bad."

He grabbed a paint bucket and scurried away.

Owen stared at me.

His eyes were dark. Unreadable. "I thought we were at least friends."

I lowered my head and pretended to study the inventory list in my hand.

I acted like I hadn't heard him.

I turned my back and muttered to the empty air. "I think I still need to buy wallpaper."

After that day, whenever Owen came to the bakery, I found an excuse to disappear.

I avoided him completely.

The renovation entered the final stretch.

This week, Owen didn't show up.

Steve grumbled as he packed up his tools. "No Owen this week? I was hoping he would treat us to BBQ again."

I answered without looking up. "He is getting engaged this week. He is busy."

Steve nodded. "Oh. Right. Makes sense."

I saw the news of Owen's engagement on a local app.

A union of two major empires. The media was in a frenzy.

My eyes locked on the headlines.

Golden Couple.

A Match Made in Heaven.

I stared at the words for two seconds.

Then I slowly scrolled past.

The grand opening was set for a month from now. But right now, it was just me.

I was short-handed.

I thought about it, then printed a Help Wanted sign and taped it to the glass door. I posted it online, too.

Selling the luxury bags and clothes Owen had given me brought in a decent amount of cash.

But the bakery wasn't open yet. Money was bleeding out, not coming in.

I only planned to hire one assistant.

Three days later, the door pushed open.

A voice floated in. Gentle. Clear. Cool. "Excuse me. Are you hiring?"

I looked up.

And met Nathaniel's eyes.

Surprise lit up my chest. I jogged out from behind the counter. "What are you doing here?"

Nathaniel was the only friend I had made in the villa district.

He was the gardener for the biggest, most luxurious mansion on the hill.

The owner was never home. They just hired Nathaniel to trim the garden occasionally. Nobody even knew who actually owned the place.

Nathaniel lowered his eyes. His long lashes cast a shadow over his cheekbones. "I got fired. I heard your bakery was hiring, so I came to ask."

Worry gnawed at me. "But the wages I can offer It is definitely not what you made as a gardener."

I remembered the salaries up there. Four grand a month. Easy.

I could offer a little more than half of that.

Nathaniel's lips curved into a small smile. "It is okay. That doesn't matter."

My brain stalled.

If money doesn't matter what does?

Chapter 7

Nathaniel helped me plan everything for the grand opening.

He laid out the menu rollout schedule. He designed the marketing strategy to maximize profits.

He was professional. Too professional.

It felt like he had an MBA, not a gardening trowel.

He even gave expert advice on the new cake designs.

Five days before opening.

I brought out the final test product. I pulled Nathaniel over to try it. "Is the cream too heavy?"

He took a bite. He set the fork down. "No. It is perfect."

I pointed to the corner of his mouth. "You got a little cream there."

Nathaniel grabbed a tissue. He wiped his mouth twice.

He missed.

"No, right there."

I took the tissue from his hand.

I stood on my tiptoes to reach him.

Nathaniel braced one hand against the counter. He leaned down. He lowered his head to meet my height.

"Thanks, Violet."

I looked up.

I fell straight into his gaze.

The sunlight streaming through the window hit his eyes.

They weren't just brown. They were amber. Molten gold suspended in glass.

My breath hitched.

It was the first time I really looked at him.

He was beautiful.

Chapter 8

The door pushed open.

I spoke automatically without looking up. "Sorry, we don't open for another five"

I looked up. The words died in my throat.

Owen.

I thought he would avoid this place after the engagement. To avoid suspicion. To avoid me.

"Do you need something?"

Owen didn't answer.

His eyes swept over the room. They landed on Nathaniel, who was assembling the espresso machine in the corner. "Who is he?"

"My friend. He works here now."

Owen pressed his lips into a thin, displeased line. "Since when do you have friends? I never heard about any friends."

I didn't know how to respond.

To answer him, I would have to drag up the past.

I had told him about Nathaniel.

I remembered the day clearly.

"Owen, I made a new friend today! He is the gardener at the big villa up the hill"

Owen had stood up. He looked down at his phone. He cut me off mid-sentence.

"Yeah, whatever. My friends are waiting outside. I am leaving. Don't wait up for dinner."

He forgot.

He just didn't care enough to remember.

The air in the shop grew heavy. Suffocating.

Then, footsteps broke the tension.

Nathaniel walked over.

He ignored Owen completely.

He lifted a finger and tapped the corner of his mouth. The skin was slightly red from where I had rubbed it.

He looked at me. His expression was a perfect mix of helplessness and indulgence.

"Violet. You really made it hurt back there."

His voice was low. Intimate. "Be gentler next time, okay?"

I didn't notice Owen's expression darken instantly.

I stared at his lip, confused. "I barely touched it. Your skin is just too sensitive. I will be lighter next time."

Nathaniel hooked his lips into a smile. "Mm. Okay."

He still hadn't looked at Owen once. Weaponized indifference.

"What did you two do?"

Owen's voice was ice cold. The jealousy in his tone was sharp, accusing.

I felt a flash of annoyance. "What are you actually doing here? If you don't have business, don't come back."

Owen took a step toward me. He invaded my space. "Can't I just visit a friend? Violet. Are we going to act like total strangers now?"

The door chimed again.

Sloane walked in.

Chapter 9