Size-Plus Girl Owned By Three Heirs

"Damn... your bodies are far warmer than that curvy woman."

Gavin's deep voice came from behind the suite room door. Isolde Ravelyn froze in place. The velvet box in her hand trembled slightly while her chest suddenly tightened.

"Your fiancée is already waiting downstairs, isn't she?" a woman's playful laughter followed.

"Just leave her there," Gavin replied dismissively. "Let that boring girl wait for me."

"Besides, Mr. Gavin... are you really serious about marrying an overweight woman like her? Aren't you embarrassed?"

Laughter immediately erupted inside the room. A loud ringing filled Isolde's ears. That name—Gavin. The man who had been with her for five years, the man who had always assured her that "looks aren't everything."

With trembling hands, Isolde pushed the door open. Every last piece of her composure shattered when she saw the scene inside the room. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and on the bed, Gavin was shirtless with two women.

Gavin's eyes widened completely.

"Isolde—"

The ring box slipped from Isolde's hand. The two women on the bed hurriedly pulled up the blanket while Gavin immediately jumped to his feet in panic.

"Sweetheart, listen to me first—"

"Don't call me that. It's disgusting," Isolde cut him off, her voice trembling from the pressure in her chest. Her gaze fell on the lipstick marks on Gavin's neck.

One of the women on the bed snorted and looked at Isolde with a contemptuous expression.

"Oh my God... she's actually much bigger than she looks in photos. She's literally like an elephant!"

Isolde's face instantly burned with humiliation. An overwhelming sense of shame spread throughout her body.

"Both of you, be quiet!" Gavin snapped in frustration.

However, the other woman merely sneered.

"Well, it's her own fault. What man would willingly stay with a woman who doesn't know how to take care of her figure? She looks so mismatched standing beside you, Mr. Gavin. Like the number one and zero."

The words struck Isolde directly in the chest. She had heard cruel comments about her body since her teenage years, but hearing them from her fiancé's mistress brought a far more devastating kind of pain.

"Isolde..." Gavin tried to reach for her hand. "I can explain."

"Explain what?" Isolde asked softly as tears began gathering in her eyes. "That you're ashamed of having a fiancée like me? That you're actually disgusted by me?"

"It's not like that!"

"Then what is it?!" Isolde finally lost control. "Why did you have to do something this filthy on the night of our engagement?!"

Gavin fell silent. His jaw tightened, and that silence became the most honest answer Isolde could receive.

Isolde let out a bitter laugh, mocking her own foolishness.

"You know what? I deliberately skipped meals for three weeks until I got sick just so I could fit into this dress tonight. Just so I could look worthy standing beside you."

"But it still didn't make any difference, did it? Your efforts were pointless," the woman on the bed remarked sarcastically.

Something inside Isolde broke that night.

Without saying another word, she turned around and ran out of that cursed room as fast as she could.

The hotel ballroom was still buzzing with guests when Isolde stepped inside in complete disarray. Her dress was wrinkled, and her makeup had been ruined by tears. Her appearance instantly changed the atmosphere of the room.

Gavin's mother approached her with a worried expression.

"Oh my goodness, Isolde. What happened to you?"

Isolde did not answer. Her eyes locked onto Gavin, who had just slipped into the ballroom through a side entrance with a pale face, shaking his head desperately, begging her not to say anything.

Gavin knew his position was in danger.

For the past five years, he had forced himself to remain Isolde's boyfriend solely out of gratitude. Years ago, Isolde's parents had sacrificed their lives to save Gavin's mother. That life debt had trapped Gavin in a cycle of repayment, a moral burden that secretly frustrated him until he vented it in the dirtiest way possible.

However, Isolde ignored his pleading look.

She walked steadily toward the main stage and took hold of the microphone.

"This engagement is canceled," Isolde announced loudly.

The ballroom instantly fell silent.

"Isolde, don't create cheap drama here," Gavin hissed as he moved beside her, trying to contain the situation.

"Drama?" Isolde looked at him with disgust. "You cheated on me with two women in a hotel room a few minutes ago, and now you're accusing me of creating drama?"

Whispers immediately erupted among the guests.

Gavin's mother looked so shocked that she nearly fainted, while his father's face darkened with fury as their family's reputation was dragged through the mud.

"Do you know what you're saying, Isolde?!" Gavin's father demanded threateningly.

"She's lying! She misunderstood everything!" Gavin hurriedly defended himself in front of his family's business associates.

"Lying?" Isolde stepped closer, staring sharply at Gavin. "Look at your neck, Gavin. There are so many marks left by those women. Absolutely disgusting."

Gavin froze and instinctively touched his neck. His pale face and obvious panic became undeniable confirmation for everyone in the room.

Slap!

A loud slap echoed through the still-active microphone.

It did not come from Isolde.

It came from Gavin's father, whose face was burning red with rage.

"You ungrateful fool! You've destroyed our family's reputation in front of all our business associates!" his father roared, breathing heavily.

Gavin's mother, who had previously pretended to be weak, began pounding Gavin's chest repeatedly without caring about the hundreds of eyes watching them.

"Gavin! What have you done?! I never raised you to become a cheap man like this! Where am I supposed to put my face after this?!"

The grand engagement stage instantly turned into a public exhibition of their family's downfall.

Gavin could only lower his head, clenching his jaw as he struggled to contain the humiliation and fury boiling inside him while his pride was torn apart in public by his own parents.

The arguments and accusations continued to fly back and forth, but Isolde no longer cared.

The chaos before her felt empty.

Her love had already died, replaced by a hollow void.

Isolde took a step back, intending to leave the stage and walk away from the family drama.

However, amid the chaos onstage, the attention of the guests below gradually shifted toward her. Whispers from the front rows began reaching her ears clearly.

"But if you think about it... it's understandable why Mr. Gavin looked elsewhere. A man as handsome and capable as him being forced to marry a large and ordinary-looking woman like Isolde? They're completely mismatched."

"Exactly. Just look at her body. No wonder Mr. Gavin needed another woman."

Those cruel whispers judging her appearance began buzzing around her from every direction.

Isolde's chest tightened even further, and fresh tears blurred her vision.

As she hurried down the stage stairs to escape those judgmental stares, the hem of her long gown caught on the heel of her shoe.

Her body lost balance.

And Isolde fell hard onto the cold marble floor directly beneath the stage stairs.

Several nearby guests instinctively stepped back as if afraid she might fall on them, while others—especially the younger socialites—covered their mouths as they whispered mockingly. Some even secretly pointed their phone cameras at her.

Isolde's face burned with humiliation.

The pain in her knees was nothing compared to the destruction of her dignity in front of hundreds of people that night.

Not a single person offered her a hand.

Gavin and his parents were still busy arguing and shouting at one another onstage, completely ignoring her.

With the last remnants of her strength and dignity, Isolde pushed herself to her feet.

Without caring about the torn hem of her dress or her disheveled hair, she ran out of the ballroom as fast as she could, ignoring every gaze that watched her like a circus attraction.

The night air immediately hit her skin as soon as she reached the area outside the hotel.

Isolde stopped beside a dark pillar, her shoulders shaking violently as the tears she had been holding back finally burst free.

Roughly, she removed both of her high heels, ignoring the stinging pain from the blisters forming on her feet.

In the middle of her sobbing, the phone inside her bag began vibrating insistently from an unknown number.

Isolde took a deep breath before answering.

"Hello..." Her voice sounded hoarse.

"Is this Miss Isolde Ravelyn?" A middle-aged man's voice came from the other end of the line, formal and calm.

"Yes, that's correct. Who is this?"

"My name is Raymond Hale, the personal attorney of the late Mrs. Berliana Blackthorne."

Isolde frowned.

Mrs. Berliana was an elderly female tycoon known for her extraordinary generosity. Since Isolde's parents passed away, the older woman had secretly paid for all of Isolde's living expenses and university education without ever asking for anything in return.

"What is it, Mr. Raymond?"

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Mrs. Berliana passed away one hour ago at the hospital."

For the second time that night, Isolde's world seemed to stop spinning.

Losing the only person who had genuinely cared about her made her chest ache even more.

"What...? Mrs. Berliana..."

"There is an urgent and extremely important will that must be read to you immediately as one of the involved parties," the attorney continued. "A special vehicle from our office will be arriving shortly to pick you up and take you directly to the Blackthorne family's main residence."

"A will? But I don't understand what that has to do with me..." Isolde whispered in confusion.

Raymond paused briefly, emphasizing his final statement.

"Everything will be explained in detail once you arrive, Miss Isolde. Because starting tonight, you are officially required to live and reside at Blackthorne Mansion."