He Found Out I Was Rich—Now He’s Imitating Me

“Ethan may not come from a rich family like yours,” Sophie said coldly, “but at least he worked his way up from a small town to get into this university. He’s better than you spoiled brats born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Don’t you see how hard he’s worked?”

Listening to her repeatedly harp on about “money” and watching her bend over backwards to defend Ethan, I felt nothing but disgust.

If it weren’t for my family’s support, she’d still stuck in that rundown trailer park, probably pressured into marrying someone twice her age just to help her family scrape by.

If I hadn’t persuaded my parents to give her extra living expenses, if I hadn’t constantly bought her luxury goods and helped her build this false image of being a refined young lady from a wealthy background—where would she be now?

Yet here she was—ungrateful, repulsed by the very money that changed her life. And worst of all, she used that money to help Ethan, knowing full well he was trying to replace me.

The memory of her clinging to Ethan in my past life made my stomach churn.

Without hesitation, I opened my phone and sent a message to my father:

"Starting today, stop all support for Sophie. She and Ethan can work their part-time jobs together to build their future."

While I was still tapping on my phone, Sophie grew more agitated.

“Julian, are you even listening? Don’t you think you’ve done something wrong?”

She crossed her arms and snapped, “I, Sophie, can’t be with a domineering, unreasonable guy like you. If you still have a conscience, you should apologize to Ethan—and compensate him. Otherwise, I—”

“What? What will you do?” I asked, my voice calm.

Thinking I was flustered, she raised her voice dramatically, “If you don’t apologize, I’ll break up with you!”

In the past, the mere threat of a breakup would’ve terrified me. After all, she once saved me from drowning, and I’d always treated her with devotion out of gratitude.

But not anymore.

Not after I died, a strange, lonely death—betrayed by the very people I cherished.

“Then break up,” I said.

I looked up from my phone, locking eyes with her.

“But since you hate that I use money to pressure others, you must really look down on my wealth. In that case, return everything I’ve spent on you. All of it. Every dollar. The total is 42,000. Transfer it to me now.”

Her expression shifted. At first, startled by the breakup, she relaxed when I brought up money—thinking I was just throwing a tantrum.

After all, I’d always been generous. She believed there was no way I’d seriously ask for it back.

With a fake air of confidence, she said, “Fine. I’ll pay you back. I don’t need your money.”

But Ethan’s face darkened. The man who copied me using my own money couldn’t stand the idea of giving any of it back.

“No! Julian, what kind of man are you? Asking a girl to return money spent during a relationship?” he barked. “Besides, didn’t Sophie spend anything on you? Maybe she gave more than you think. Are you trying to take advantage of her now?”

Sophie looked uneasy. She knew how much she spent on me, and it wasn’t much—but she still pretended to be generous.

“It’s fine, Ethan,” she said, putting on a noble act. “Julian is my boyfriend. If he wants the money, I’ll give it to him. I’m not that petty.”

She winked at me, clearly hoping I’d drop the subject.

In the past, I would’ve let it go—for her so-called “dignity.”

But not anymore.

I opened my gallery and pulled up photos of the gifts she’d given me.

“You gave me a single rose in May 2023. A silver earring in August—which you wore yourself. And a handmade ceramic bowl in October.”

I looked up at her, voice steady.

“That’s everything you gave me in our three-year relationship. Combined, they’re probably worth less than 70 dollars.”

The color drained from her face.

I tilted my head slightly. “Sophie, should I list every transaction in front of our classmates? Or would you prefer I forward the receipts to the class group chat, so everyone can decide whether or not you're a gold digger?”