Chapter 3 The Heiress and the Fiancee

By the time the Maybach reached the Lombardis' manor halfway up the mountain, it was already deep into the night.

The car door opened, and a fair hand reached out toward me. I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of eyes as deep as the sea.

She was Yelena Lombardi, the heiress of the Lombardi family, a woman revered by everyone in the capital's elite circle. She was also, in name at least, my fiancee.

"Decided to come back, did you?" Her voice was cool and detached.

Thomas, the butler, hurried over to greet me, his eyes slightly red. "Mr. Sanburne, you've finally come home. If your father and mother knew how much you suffered out there, they'd be heartbroken."

"Thomas, I'm fine." I smiled, though a bitter ache stirred in my chest.

…

Back then, I had fallen out with my family and gone into hiding just to accompany Irina while she built her business. Looking back now, I was an idiot through and through.

Yelena dismissed the servants, handed me a glass of warm water, then picked up a thick folder from the coffee table and tossed it in front of me. "Take a look. Here's your devoted girlfriend's impressive record over the past three years."

I opened the folder in confusion.

The photographs showed Irina using the money I had painstakingly saved to buy her handbags while she popped champagne for male escorts at nightclubs. There were pictures of her using the money I had saved by refusing to see a doctor when I was sick to buy James a limited-edition watch.

There were even photos of her boasting to her friends about how I had practically thrown myself at her like a dog while I was working so hard on her business proposals that my nose had started bleeding.

So, this was what all my self-sacrificing devotion had looked like in her eyes—a joke at her beck and call.

As I continued looking through the photographs, I suddenly laughed. I laughed so hard that tears spilled from my eyes.

"Bet I looked like an idiot." I looked up at Yelena and asked with a self-deprecating smile.

She leaned back against the sofa, her long legs crossed elegantly as she regarded me calmly. "That would be a little harsh. Your taste in women, though, was definitely questionable."

I looked at the face so close to mine. Bright eyes, delicate features, an air of effortless nobility. She was leagues above Irina, that unfaithful woman.

I could not help wondering what the hell had been wrong with me back then. How could I have been blind enough to pass up someone like Yelena and insist on digging through a trash heap for a woman?

The faintest smile touched Yelena's lips. "Get some rest."

…

The next morning, Irina rummaged through piles of garbage scattered around the apartment, irritation written all over her face. "Damn it! Where are my underwear? What happened to my socks?"

Every morning, I folded her clothes and laid them neatly at the foot of the bed. Now she had to stand there half-naked, digging through the chaotic wardrobe for a pile of wrinkled, mismatched old clothes.

"Irina, I'm hungry…" James, wearing my pajamas, sat on the sofa and complained. "The soundproofing in this place is terrible. The kid next door cried all night. My head is killing me. And what's wrong with the water heater in the bathroom? There's only cold water. I can't even take a shower."

His complaints made Irina's temples throb.

I had always dealt with these things before. She had never known just how terrible the soundproofing in this dump was, or that the water heater had to be turned to a very specific angle before it would produce hot water.

"Stop complaining!" Irina could not help snapping.

James flinched. His eyes immediately turned red, and he looked at her with wounded indignation.

Irina took a deep breath and forced down her irritation. "I'm sorry, James. I wasn't yelling at you. It's all Colin's fault. That useless fucker made a mess of the place before he left!"

As she hurriedly pulled on a mismatched sock, she cursed under her breath. "When he comes back, I'll show him exactly what happens when he crosses me!"

She still firmly believed I was merely throwing a tantrum. Unfortunately for her, this time, she was destined to be disappointed.