Chapter 2

I froze, staring down at the thick document sitting on the glass coffee table.

Page after page outlined total financial separation before and after marriage—a complete clause dictating that if we divorced, I’d walk away with absolutely nothing.

Damian, the guy whose eyes used to overflow with pure tenderness whenever he looked at me, was sitting across from me with nothing but ice in his gaze.

My fingers clamped around the edge of the paper, crumpling it slightly as I took a deep, shaky breath. I wanted to fight for us, just one last time.

“My parents never signed a prenup when they got married,” I began, my voice tight, “If you could just—”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a soft laugh.

“You mean your dad, the chef, and your mom, the factory worker? Anna, a family like yours obviously doesn't need to worry about protecting assets.”

My head snapped up, utter disbelief cutting through my shock.

“You ran a background check on me?”

My family had constructed an airtight cover identity for me years ago just to keep me safe. As far as the outside world was concerned, those fake background files were my reality.

Damian met my eyes, the mockery in his tone impossible to hide.

“Sophia ran it for me,” he said smoothly, “She warned me that you were just some gold digger who targeted me from the start, using marriage to claw your way up.”

He looked down, chuckling quietly to himself.

“I didn't believe her at first. You always seemed so innocent and pure.”

His gaze shifted, turning sharp. “Until yesterday, when you demanded a million dollars just for the wedding.”

He reached out, pulled a tissue, and gently wiped away a tear that had slipped down my cheek without me noticing.

“Don't be greedy, Anna,” Damian murmured, his voice deceptively soft, “You need to realize that having my last name alone is enough to change your entire life.”

I looked down at the ring resting heavily on my left hand—the ring he had slipped onto my finger just yesterday—and tried one last time to reach him.

“Damian, a high-profile wedding was the only thing my father asked for. I'll agree to everything else you want. Just trust me, after the ceremony, you'll understand everything.”

A harsh laugh burst from his chest, cold and completely devoid of warmth.

“I really spoiled you, didn't I? You actually think you're someone important.”

My eyes stung with hot tears as I shoved his hand away.

“Then we're done,” I said, my voice trembling, “Let’s break up.”

Before I could back away, Damian grabbed my wrist and pinned me hard against the wall. Disappointment burned deep in his eyes as if his worst suspicions had just been confirmed.

“Sophia was right about you. You really are a sickening gold digger! What, realized you can't milk me for cash, so you're dumping me to go hunt for your next mark?!

“I was going to give you one last chance, Anna,” he growled, “You just blew it. You're going to regret this for the rest of your life.”

I yanked my arm free, threw open the front door, and sprinted out into the night without looking back.

I called in sick to the orchestra for the next few days. Crying until my eyes were swollen shut, I packed up every single gift, card, and trinket Damian had ever given me into cardboard boxes, intending to courier them all back to his apartment.

I was just about to head out the door when my phone rang. I picked it up and saw a frantic call from one of the orchestra members.

“Anna, open social media right now!” she gasped the second I answered, “Is this post talking about you?!”

Sophia had posted a massive thread under the guise of an inside source.

The story detailed how her wealthy boss had been in a five-year relationship, only to discover his fiancée was a ruthless gold digger. She claimed the girl came from a dirt-poor background yet demanded a million-dollar wedding.

Even after the heartbroken boss offered to marry her anyway on the condition that she signed a standard prenuptial agreement, the girl immediately threw a tantrum and dumped him on the spot.

The post didn't drop my name directly, but the details about the musical career, the timeline, and the venue costs were so specific that anyone who knew us would recognize me instantly.

The press outlets that covered our engagement photoshoot picked up on the drama right away, flooding the comment section under Damian’s official corporate account, demanding to know if the rumors were true.

Thirty minutes later, Damian’s account left a single comment pinned at the top: [The wedding is currently on hold.]