From Doormat to Doomsday Billionaire!

Chapter 27: the price of a dog

“You creep!” she snapped. “You think because you have money, you can buy any woman you want? Take a look in the mirror, Rhys. What on earth makes you think you have a chance with me?”

Sara snatched her hand off his arm.

He looked almost innocent.

“Weren’t you the one who said you’d do anything to save Duke?”

“That doesn’t include something like that!”

“So ‘anything’ comes with conditions.”

Sara’s mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Then she found her voice again, and it was a hiss. 

“You’re twisting my words. You’re taking advantage of a desperate woman. You’re disgusting.”

Rhys didn’t argue.

His eyes had already slid down to Duke, who lay limp in her arms and was growing weaker by the minute, his breathing thin and shallow.

Enough games.

“Let’s talk about the dog,” he said.

He picked up his phone and car keys.

“I won’t lend you a hundred thousand dollars. But I’ll take Duke to an emergency vet right now. I’ll cover the examination, the surgery, and follow-up care. On one condition: you sign him over to me.”

Sara froze.

“What about the money?”

“I pay the hospital directly. You don’t owe me a cent. Duke gets treatment. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Her face twisted, and she realized how her first question had sounded.

“Duke can’t be separated from me,” she added, much too fast. “He gets scared. A sudden change of owner would terrify him.”

But as she spoke, Duke strained his head toward Rhys, reaching, whimpering. Sara tightened her hold, pressing right into the bruised ribs.

The dog let out a thin cry.

Rhys stepped forward.

“Put him down. You’re hurting him.”

Sara hesitated at first. But she succumbed. “There is only one clinic that can handle Duke. They’re exclusive.”

“Fine. We’ll go there.” Rhys replied.

“They require payment before they’ll book the surgery.” She frowned.

“Send me the payment link.”

“Their system is down overnight. They can only take bank transfers.”

“Then give me their account details.”

Her patience snapped.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated? Can’t you just transfer the money to me?”

Rhys stopped tapping on his phone.

“Where’s the medical report? An itemized estimate?”

Sara swiped at her screen. She opened nothing. After several seconds of fake scrolling, she muttered that she’d left the papers at home in her rush.

“You live on this floor,” Rhys said mildly. “I can wait while you bring them.”

She gritted her teeth.

One excuse at a time, he thought, like peeling an onion until there’s nothing left.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

Sara glanced at the screen and killed it immediately. But Rhys caught the preview before the glass went dark.

[Still not done? What are you…]

Her face tightened. And then, abruptly, her entire story changed.

“You want him, don’t you?” she said. “A hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll sell him to you.”

Rhys raised his brow.

“Two minutes ago, you said he couldn’t bear to be without you.”

“I have to live too!” she shot back. “What about everything I’ve spent raising him? The time? The effort? Doesn’t any of that count?”

Once she found a justification, her tone firmed.

“A hundred thousand. Pay me, and he’s yours. What you do with him after that, or how much it costs, is your business.”

Rhys looked at Duke.

He no longer believed in the medical bills. But the dog needed treatment, and leaving him with this woman clearly wouldn’t get him any.

A hundred thousand dollars meant almost nothing to Rhys. Once the apocalypse arrived, money would lose its value within weeks anyway.

And he had been thinking about getting a dog.

At the very least, the injured animal still trying to wag its tail at him seemed more worth taking home than the woman standing beside it.

“Fine,” he said.

Sara’s eyes widened. For a second, she looked almost regretful, wondering if she’d asked for too little. Her lips parted as though she meant to add a number.

Rhys cut her off.

“A hundred thousand. We settle this now, or you take him and leave.”

“Deal,” she said at once.

They put the ownership transfer in writing. He confirmed the payment terms. She handed over Duke’s records, such as they were, and agreed to cooperate with any registration changes.

Rhys sent the money.

Sara checked her balance before anything else. Only when she saw the number did she let out a long, relieved breath.

She turned toward the door.

“Don’t blame me if he ruins your carpet,” she said lightly.

Rhys stared at her back.

Ten minutes ago, this dog was her whole world.

Her coldness said more than any shouting could have.

At the door, Sara checked her phone again.

Rhys caught a glimpse of the message she sent.

[Got it. I’m coming back now]

She slipped out.

***

Rhys looked down at Duke, who was already resting his head against Rhys’s ankle with a tired, trusting whimper.

“Stay,” he murmured, and set a blanket around him. “I’ll be right back.”

He stepped into the hallway.

Sara was already at the end of the corridor. She disappeared into her apartment. The metal door clicked shut.

Rhys walked up quietly, and stopped outside the door.

Then he leaned in close.

He heard a man’s voice. Hers, answering. 

And as he listened, every piece of the puzzle slid into place. Everything made sense now.

His jaw tightened.

Then he lifted his hand to knock.