Chapter 2

After my failed proposal, a few friends who knew the whole story invited me out for drinks, but I refused them all.

That night, I dragged myself home, exhausted, only to find Jessie sitting on the sofa. In front of her was a luxurious jewelry set.

I recognized it instantly. At last week's Christie's auction, my father had spent three million dollars to acquire it.

When I remembered his earlier message about sending a gift, everything clicked.

Seeing me come in, Jessie quickly tucked the jewelry behind her back. I stepped closer, fixing my gaze on her.

"Jessie, where did that jewelry come from?"

Her eyes flickered with a brief panic, but she quickly regained composure. "A friend gave it to me," she said calmly.

I reached out and linked my arm with hers, asking the question that had been circling in my mind.

"Jessie… do you love me?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she stood and started walking toward the bedroom.

I grabbed her arm, forcing her to meet my eyes. "If you love me, why did you accept such an extravagant gift from someone else?"

Her brows drew together, and she let out an impatient sigh. "Josh… since you asked, I'll be honest. I won't marry you. The man I want is the richest man!

"We're breaking up. If you can't give me what I want, don't stand in the way of me pursuing real love."

I laughed, more in disbelief than amusement. Real love? Three years of genuine devotion, wiped out by a fleeting encounter? Just because of money.

"Jessie," I said, my voice tense, "you'd easily toss aside three years of love. Tell me—what is real love? That man we met that one time on the highway?"

It was the first time I had raised my voice at her. Infuriated, she yanked her arm free.

"Josh, how could you even compare to him? He's the richest man!"

"And what makes you think the richest man would ever fall in love with you?" I shot back.

Her eyes blazed. "Josh, isn't it obvious? That rear-end accident—if he hadn't let it slide for my sake, do you know how deep in debt I would be?

"And just now, he sent me this one-of-a-kind limited-edition jewelry set. Do you know how much that costs? This alone is more than you could earn in several lifetimes! Doesn't that prove he and I are truly in love?"

I couldn't help but laugh at her arrogance. There was no point arguing further.

As I turned to head to my room, she called after me.

"Since we're breaking up, you should move out soon. It doesn't look good for us to be living together."

When she first rented this apartment, she said she was scared to live alone, so I moved out of the villa to stay with her. Now, suddenly, living together was a problem—her problem. She clearly didn't love me.

I had little to pack—just my documents—and I left.

Back at my family villa, the butler was visibly surprised to see me.

"Master Josh, you've finally decided to move back in!"

After my mother died, my resentment toward my father never faded. His endless work had neglected her, worsening her illness, and she passed away before I even turned eighteen.

In the living room, my father greeted me with a smile, showing me his phone.

"Josh, your girlfriend seemed very pleased with the gift I sent. She even said she'd invite me to dinner tomorrow. What a polite girl! How did you fail in your proposal? Was there some misunderstanding?"

I scanned the messages, reading Jessie's flattering words, feeling them utterly foreign.

I replied, "Since Jessie seems so eager, why not accept her invitation? It'll be a good chance to understand exactly what kind of person she is."

My father, oblivious to the deeper meaning in my words, thought I was trying to draw closer to him, and promptly agreed to Jessie's invitation.