The Quadrillionaire Simp System

Summary

My girlfriend hired male escorts, and I booked the venue.

My girlfriend went on a “friends” trip with another guy, and I bought the plane tickets.

My girlfriend hooked up with some pretty boy, and I had condoms delivered to their hotel.

They called me a simp, a doormat, the king of cuckolds.

I didn't care.

Because I was bound to a system. A bizarre, cosmic contract. If I spent ten million dollars on her—as the ultimate doormat—I would be rewarded with nine quadrillion dollars in wealth.

And I was almost there.