Chapter 2

Floriane looked as though she'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.

Tilting her head, she gave me a smug, dismissive look. "I'm prettier than you, and I have a lot more money. Isn't it only natural that he'd choose me?"

She was about to twist the knife even further when an assistant hurried over.

"Mr. Dunn, the press is still outside waiting for an interview."

Vincent gave a curt nod before turning to me.

"Wait for me."

He released my hands, interlocked his fingers with Floriane's, and strode toward the exit.

"Gail, keep her company."

Gail grabbed my arm and dragged me out through the venue's side door.

She drove me back to my rented apartment. Before leaving, she turned to me with one last piece of cold advice. "You need a reality check. A guy like Vincent was never in your league to begin with.

"Floriane can post a few casual vlogs and rack up millions of followers without even trying. She's an heiress who outclasses you in every imaginable way. What do you have to compete with her?"

When she saw me standing there, utterly crushed, she hesitated for a moment. But in the end, she said nothing more and walked away.

I sank onto the sofa and stared blankly around the small apartment.

I'd grown up in a single-parent household, so my greatest dream had always been to have a place I could truly call my own.

When Vincent and I signed the lease for this apartment, he'd held me tightly in his arms, his eyes full of sincerity. "I swear I'll work as hard as I can to give you a real home!"

Determined to keep that promise, he'd worked grueling delivery shifts every night after his day job, saving every penny toward a traditional wedding gift and a down payment on a home.

Yet no matter how hard he worked, he never seemed to save enough.

It wasn't until one rainy night, when he'd been hit by a car while making deliveries and ended up in the emergency room, that I finally broke down.

With tears streaming down my face, I told him I didn't care about having a grand wedding. But Vincent immediately covered my mouth, refusing to let me finish.

"I might be broke right now, but I'll never let you feel like you've settled for less," he'd insisted. "Saving for our future is how I prove my love for you. Just give me a little more time. I'll get there."

Back then, I'd believed every word.

Now I finally understood the painful truth. Money had never been the thing keeping him from marrying me. It was his love for me that had run out.

My tears dripped silently onto the floor. I reached for my phone, intending to message the landlord about ending my lease early, but right then, a trending news alert appeared on the screen.

[The Wedding of the Century! Proof That True Love Exists Among the Elite!]

The article went on to list Vincent's extravagant wedding gifts to Floriane in painstaking detail: a custom luxury yacht, a penthouse in Midtown Manhattan, and shares in the Dunn Group worth millions of dollars.

As I read through the list, the humiliation I'd barely begun to process washed over me all at once.

Just then, I heard the front door click open.

Vincent stood in the doorway, but the moment he noticed the open suitcase on the floor, his eyes widened with panic. "Are you leaving?"

I dug my fingernails into my palms and bit my lip so hard I could taste blood.

"What else am I supposed to do? Stay here and let you keep making a fool out of me?"

"I won't let you!"

He rushed over, snatched the suitcase out of my way, and pulled me forcefully into his arms.

The moment he drew me close, the unfamiliar scent of expensive perfume filled my senses. Then my eyes fell on the distinct lipstick mark on his shirt collar.

I gathered every bit of strength I could muster, shoved him away, and screamed, "Haven't you humiliated me enough today?"

Vincent let out a heavy sigh, as though I were the one making things unnecessarily difficult.

"You blame me for keeping you in the dark, but when have you ever stepped up and brought anything to the table?"

I froze, stunned by his words.

His expression remained gentle, but what he said next was merciless.

"Floriane stepped up to run the Marsh Group right after graduation. She can help me with my career. She brings major corporate partnerships and institutional deals to the table. And you? What can you give me?"

His words dragged me back to a conversation we'd had two years ago, when I'd considered dropping out of my graduate program to find a high-paying corporate job.

Vincent had been the one to talk me out of it, insisting that my youth was too precious to sacrifice for money.

"Pursue whatever you love," he'd told me. "I might not be a trust-fund kid, but I'll work as hard as it takes to be your safety net."

Trusting that promise, I'd continued my studies while juggling part-time jobs and research. During the busiest stretches, I worked up to eighteen hours a day, determined to build a future without giving up on the dreams we'd once shared.

Now, the casual disdain in his voice reduced all those sacrifices to nothing.

In a matter of hours, both my best friend and the man I'd loved for seven years had passed the same judgment on me. In their eyes, I simply wasn't worthy.

Tears splashed onto the hardwood floor as I stared at Vincent, unable to comprehend how the man before me could be the same one who'd once promised to be my safety net.

For a fleeting moment, I saw a trace of pain in his eyes. He reached out as if to pull me close again, but perhaps remembering how fiercely I'd pushed him away, he stopped himself and settled for stroking my hair.

"But I don't care about any of that," he added softly. "It's you I love. I have a lot of loose ends to tie up over the next few days. Once things settle down, I'll come get you. Floriane can be spoiled and headstrong. Just don't pick fights with her."

He spoke with the easy confidence of someone who had never once considered that I might actually leave him. After pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, he turned and walked out the door.

I remained frozen in place, unable to move until my legs had gone so numb that I could barely feel them. Only then did I pick up my phone and open my email.

There, waiting in my inbox, was the official acceptance letter for a fully funded Ph.D. program in Europe. After staring at it for a long time, I finally pressed Confirm with a trembling finger.

The government fellowship covered all my tuition and living expenses, so I wouldn't have to worry about the financial burden at all.

I'd once considered turning it down for Vincent's sake, believing that staying with him mattered more than pursuing an opportunity abroad. Now there was no reason to hesitate.

I stared out into the pitch-black night, but sleep never came.

...

Early the next morning, a violent pounding rattled my front door.

The moment I unlocked it and pulled it open, a bucket of foul-smelling wastewater splashed squarely across my face.