Gold Digger

So, everyone's always talking about how the bad boy falls for the good girl and how the very handsome billionaire falls for the girl who doesn't give two shits about his money, but what about us? The bad girls and the gold diggers? The ones that give all the shits about their money? I know I want some billionaire that's going to spoil me shitless.

Hi, my name is Melanie Bin and I'm a gold digger. It's nice to meet you.

This is my story and I'm hella proud of it because it gave me all I've wanted in life.

Let's go down memory lane, shall we?

I was the cheer captain in my high school, and I only dated the hot boys and the quarterbacks because they had money.

I didn't take shit from anybody, and I still don't take shit from anybody.

I always had a thing for being popular and known. Once, a very hot blonde tried to steal my spot, and let me tell you, she had a thing for her ponytail.

"If it's not high, it's not right," she used to say. What a weirdo she was.

Anyway, I went to her house while she was sleeping, and I gave her a fresh cut.

She never came back to school again. Serves her right for trying to steal my spot. Don’t get me wrong, I was no bully, not at all. I just hated being second.

But, ever since then, no one in school tried to mess with me. Even teachers and some parents. Yeah, I was a pain in everyone's ass.

I still am and I'm never going to stop being a pain in people's asses.

Being a pain in people’s asses runs deep for me, and it kind of affected the relationship part of my life.

You see, I am very materialistic. I love money, I love it when men shower me with their money. I love attention and I’ll usually do anything it takes to get that attention. It's the best feeling ever. It’s the best part of my life. Ever since I found out that men would literally do anything to get into a pretty girl’s panties, I took it as my life’s mission to take what they have to offer, while being classy at the same time.

It was like payback of some sort, payback for being assholes. At least that’s how I saw it, and although some women whose husbands got trapped in my web didn’t think it was payback, it didn’t matter to me because only what I think matters.

I am a gold digger, a lady who decided that being broke didn’t go well with her aesthetic, so dedicated her life to working hard to take money and other valuables from men to increase her net worth. A gold digger, and a proud one at that.

"Hey, Mel, doing anything Friday night?" Jones asked me.

Jones was an accountant at Bridgeway Inc. He was tall and dark and cute, real cute, but he wasn't my type. He lacked the basic amenity: Money.

He had been asking me out for months now and I'd told him no several times, but he was not one to give up.

"Again with this, Jones?" I asked him as I adjusted my bag on my shoulders, giving him my signature smirk.

"What can I say? A man’s gotta try," he replied, scratching his head. He looked so cute for a moment that I considered his offer, but when has cuteness ever bought some red bottoms? Or diamond rings? Or paid rent? Or put food on the table? Never!

Sorry, pretty boy, I can’t eat cuteness for dinner.

"Maybe a man should try asking someone else," I flashed him a smile and left the building.

Now, thinking about Friday night, I'll need some new clothes if I'm gonna attract new rich men because Friday nights are fishing nights.

Gotta look good for them.

When I got home, I grabbed my laptop and got to work on my next catch.

It's like, the number of rich men increases daily and 98% are single so how do they spend the money? That's where I come in. I mean, even the bible says, "give and it shall come back to you," so in a way, I'm helping them become richer by taking away their excess money.

I typed in my stalking website, www.myhotrichfuck.com, and laid back to enjoy the results.

"Mm, Ambrose, done him. Mike, done him. Sandy, done him. Ugh! Where are the fresh ones?" I cried out of frustration.

Most of these men have fallen victim to my charms and I can't seem to find any new ones.

Just when I was about to exit, I saw a name I know I haven't come across before: Reeves Giovanni!

Jack-fucking-pot.

Name - Reeves Giovanni

Age - 30 years old Company - Vanni Industries Position - CEO

Wealth - Reeves has a net worth of 400 billion dollars as of yesterday. He has Vanni industries in almost every country of the world and it's still increasing.

Personal - Reeves is single as he doesn't do commitment. He's got one little sister. His father and his mother, Carlos and Lisa Giovanni are alive and well.

Oooh! 400 billion dollars???

Okay, Reeves, I'm coming for you baby!

***

If there's one thing I know about rich men, it's their ability to go clubbing at the same club every weekend. It's like they never get tired or bored. Heck, even I was tired of going to the same club every weekend, but in my hunt for money, I'd do anything.

It's Friday, which means it's time to get rich, and I think I bought the right dress for the occasion. It was a long, red dinner gown that had a slit running from my thigh down. It was backless and strapless, and it showed off all my assets.

I let my jet black, curly human hair wig down and made my face up. Looking into the mirror, I smiled. I looked too good. I mean, how could you look at me and not do anything I tell you to?

After checking myself out, I took selfies and left my condo.

I parked my car and headed toward the entrance. There were so many people here today and I wondered why.

"Hey Joey," I hailed the bouncer at the entrance.

"Mel, looking stunning as usual," he commented, and I flashed him a smile.

"Go in. Have a nice time," he told me as he let me in.

"Thanks Joey," I told him.

I walked straight to the bar and sat down, not ordering yet. I needed to know if my victim was here or not and from the looks of it, he wasn't.

"Hey, excus—"

"I'm not interested," I cut the guy short.

He looked good and his cologne was good, but he didn't look too expensive. He looked like a child, and I don't do children.

"You're rude," he said.

"I know, I get that all the time, hon," I told him, and he shook his head and left.

That's when I saw him—my big whale.

He looked better in person. His Armani suit clung to him like a second body, like it was made for him alone. Then again, it probably was. His hair was obviously long, but I couldn’t tell just how long it was as it was in a bun on top of his head. His chiseled jaw looked like it could cut through anything. He looked mighty and unfazed, like he knew he was gorgeous.

"Damn Papi," I breathed out. Okay, it was show time.

He walked over to the bar and sat down beside me. Fuck! His cologne, the scent of it told me how expensive it must've been.

"Wouldn't you like to buy me a drink?" I asked in a slurry voice.

I got no response.

"Your cologne, what is it?" I asked him.

No response.

Instead, he ordered his drink, drank it, paid for it, and left.

"He's a tough one, huh?" Carl, the bartender asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

He's really a tough one. Okay then, let's try this again.

I scanned the whole area for him and when I saw him, I smiled.

He was sitting in a VIP session that had a perfect view of the dance floor.

Okay, time to put on a show.

I walked to the dance floor and made sure everyone parted so I could pass through.

I started my dance by running my hands over my body, which made all the men cheer me on, including those in the VIP section.

I exaggerated the sway of my hips as I made everything, I did slutty just for one man.

A man that didn't spare me a glance the whole time.

I didn't give up though. I kept dancing.

Much to my horror, the hot man got up from where he was sitting, walked in my direction, and when I thought he was going to stop and tell me the things I wanted to hear, he walked past me and left the club.

Wow! So much for my effort.

What Reeves didn’t know was that when I want something, I get it. No matter what!