My Child and I Married a Billionaire

Brandon Jacobs had probably never been dumped in his entire life.

Damien Vaughn read the message from Elsa over and over, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell him.

But... he also couldn’t bear to watch Brandon Jacobs fall any deeper.

When the car arrived at the entrance of Club DL, Damien Vaughn looked at Brandon Jacobs with a grim expression.

"Didn’t you say you wanted to open branches in Sudland and Norport? I’m in. If you don’t like writing business proposals, then don’t. Just tell me how much you need, and I’ll invest my personal funds."

Damien Vaughn had no interest in the entertainment industry. Brandon Jacobs had wanted to ride on his coattails and had tried to persuade him to open new branches together countless times, only to be coldly rejected. So why today...

Brandon Jacobs was no fool.

He studied Damien’s face, and the cheerful glint in his own eyes gradually faded.

"What’s this about? You’re compensating me? You’re not going to let me see her again? Damn it, what’s wrong with me? I thought today went great... Is this coming from you, or from her?"

Damien Vaughn had been reluctant to say it outright, but since Brandon had already figured it out...

"It’s what we both think. You and she aren’t a good match. Jacobs, we’re all adults. Some things are best left as they are. Consider this me owing you a favor. I’ll make it up to you on the business side. I hope this won’t affect our friendship."

Brandon Jacobs wasn’t short on cash. The Jacobs Family wasn’t short on cash. He couldn’t care less about Damien Vaughn’s financial compensation.

The only reason he’d wanted Damien to invest was for the thrill of conquest in the business world; he didn’t need that money at all!

He couldn’t understand what was so wrong with him that both siblings would reject him.

For Elsa, he hadn’t had a drink or stayed up late in three days! He’d been working out nonstop, and to see her today, he even took... beforehand.

And what about his looks? His aura? His six-foot frame? Women were constantly throwing themselves at him. He was a catch, wasn’t he? What part of him wasn’t good enough for her?

Brandon Jacobs was furious!

He wanted to grab Damien Vaughn and demand to know what gave him the right to be so high and mighty, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

"President Vaughn, while the Jacobs Family might not compare to the Vaughn Family, we’re not exactly wanting for food or drink. I, Brandon Jacobs, am an adult. I can afford to play this little game. I don’t need your compensation."

With that, he got out of the car with a look of defiance and slammed the door shut.

Damien Vaughn knew it would turn out like this.

’It’s all my fault for being an idiot. Since I felt he wasn’t a good fit from the beginning, I should have stuck to my guns.’

But he knew what Brandon Jacobs was like. He was never the deeply sentimental type. His anger now was just his ego taking a hit from being dumped.

Give him a few ways to save face, and he’d cool down in a couple of days.

Damien Vaughn didn’t chase after him. He just turned the car around and headed home.

Brandon Jacobs reached the club entrance, heard the engine rev, and turned to see the car’s rear speeding off, leaving him in the dust. He was so mad he could have spit blood.

"Heartless bastard! Fuck! You call this a friend? He just left? How the fuck did I end up friends with such a ruthless, disloyal piece of shit!"

He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up completely. He ripped the chain from his neck and the rings from his fingers, throwing them all on the ground.

He stormed inside, where an employee came up to report.

"President Jacobs, you’re back. President Wynn and President Walton came by for a drink. You weren’t here and we couldn’t reach you by phone, so we were just..."

’Perfect timing.’

Brandon Jacobs was bursting with pent-up rage and looking for someone to vent on. He headed straight for Wyatt Wynn’s private room.

Inside the room, Wyatt Wynn, contrary to his usual self, was sitting across from Zeke Walton. The bright overhead lights were on, and they were chatting quietly.

SLAM! The door was thrown open, then slammed shut again.

Brandon Jacobs stormed in, threw himself onto the sofa, and shut his eyes in frustration.

Wyatt Wynn and Zeke Walton watched the agitated man. Before they could say anything, he shot up as if pricked by a needle, grabbed a glass from the coffee table, and chugged down all the alcohol in one go.

Wyatt Wynn had no idea what was going on and gave him an annoyed look.

"Damn, that’s my glass and my drink. Where have you been to be so thirsty? Chugging Rémy Martin like it’s water? In that case, I’m not paying. It’s all on your tab tonight."

Brandon Jacobs poured himself another glass.

"Why don’t you just die poor, you cheap bastard? A couple sips of your booze and you’re already crying about it! Put it all on my tab! All of it! Fuck! It’s just money, right? I’ve got plenty! Get me ten more bottles!"

’What’s wrong with him? How long has it been since I’ve seen him act this crazy?’ Wyatt Wynn keenly smelled gossip in the air.

He draped himself over Brandon’s shoulder with a mischievous grin.

"You’re not yourself. What’s with the tantrum? Who pissed you off? Someone actually dared to piss off our great Mr. Jacobs? Damn, are they blind?"

Brandon Jacobs shoved him off, frustratedly running his hands through his hair again. He suddenly looked down at his jeans, sneakers, and oversized t-shirt, and was hit with a wave of humiliation.

He took off his shoes and hurled them at the door, then ripped off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor, glaring viciously at Zeke Walton.

"This is the look you put together for me? After I fucking trusted you! This look is a goddamn piece of shit!"

Zeke Walton was speechless.

Then, it clicked.

Brandon Jacobs had suddenly become concerned with his image, wanting to be styled like a college kid, and insisted that Zeke be the one to do it. Zeke had known right then that Brandon was falling for someone.

Mr. Jacobs had been with countless women, but Zeke had never seen him take meeting any woman this seriously. He knew Brandon had genuinely fallen for her and had given him sincere advice, but he never expected...

"What happened? Did your confession fail? What woman is so blind that she’d reject your confession and even look down on my styling? Did she get kicked in the head by a donkey or something?"

"The circle of socialites in Veridia is only so big, and frankly, I don’t think much of any of them. If you got looked down on in that circle, Jacobs, I’d laugh at you for the rest of my life."

’Laugh at me for the rest of his life?’

Brandon Jacobs was extremely sensitive right now. He grabbed a glass and threw it at Zeke Walton.

Fortunately, Zeke was quick enough to dodge it.

Like a sensitive, enraged lion, he leaped up and pointed a finger in Zeke Walton’s face.

"Who failed their confession? Who got rejected? Who the fuck do you think you’re looking down on? Why the hell would I want some woman that even *you* look down on? Let me tell you, there’s no woman in this world I can’t get! I just decided I didn’t want her! Fuck! What a joke!"

Although every word out of his mouth was about how he didn’t care, it only highlighted how much he actually did.

Wyatt Wynn had never seen him lose his composure like this. He was dying of laughter.

"No wonder I couldn’t find you when I came by tonight, and you weren’t even answering your phone. So you dolled yourself up to go peacocking. I’m telling you, Jacobs, is it really worth it? She’s just one stupid, blind woman. Is she really worth getting this angry over?"

"Come on, come on, sit down. Your bro here understands how you feel, more or less. I’ll give you a plan to get your dignity back. I guarantee she’ll come back tomorrow, crying and begging."

Wyatt pushed him back down onto the sofa by his shoulders.

In a placating tone, Wyatt Wynn got up and poured a glass of wine for himself, Zeke Walton, and Brandon Jacobs.

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