Page 51 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy 3

“Because you are.”

My mouth dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Wow… I can’t believe you’re acting like this. Like… did you ever really love me?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Everything went quiet for a moment.

I stood in the middle of my living room with the phone pressed against my ear, waiting for him to answer. I could hear people talking in the background on his end, but Ozy didn’t say anything.

That silence hurt more than anything he could have said.

“Ozy?”

“Aye, I’m busy,” he finally said. “And don’t call my shit no more. We done.”

The call disconnected.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen.

He had hung up on me.

I immediately called him back, but the call went straight to voicemail. I tried again and got the same thing.

He had blocked me.

I stood there staring at my phone, trying to process the fact that he had really cut me off. After all the time we had spent together, all the things I had done for him, and everything I had put up with, he had blocked my number over Noree.

That bitch had known him for five minutes, and suddenly, she was more important than me?

I opened Instagram and went back to The Morning Hour’s page. The clip from the interview already had over a million views.

The comments were coming in faster than I could read them.

@shantheman: I met her at a meet-and-greet last year. She rolled her eyes when I asked for a picture.

@Reemabeema: My cousin worked with her glam team. She said Ginger talks to everybody like they’re beneath her.

@carameltaje: Noree is prettier and curvier anyway. Ozy upgraded.

@janeebre: Her music ain’t even all that. She had one good song and started acting like Beyoncé.

My hand tightened around my phone.

More comments loaded underneath the post, and they were all saying the same thing.

I clicked on another clip from the interview. Noree had a slight smile on her face while Ozy spoke. She tried to pretend she was uncomfortable with the conversation, but I saw through her.

She was enjoying every second of it.

The attention.

The sympathy.