/ Romance / TOO RICH TO BE MINE. / Things That Don’t Belong.

공유

Things That Don’t Belong.

작가: Muriel
last update 최신 업데이트: 2025-06-13 15:15:19

Catherine sat on the edge of her bed that night, barefoot, robe loose around her shoulders, staring at a dress she didn’t want to wear.

It was a pale blue gown — sleek, expensive, lifeless.

Just like the man she was expected to wear it for.

James Carter.

Heir to a chain of luxury resorts. Handsome in a hollow way. Safe in all the wrong ways.

Their families had been “suggesting” an engagement for over a year now. Her mother called it strategic. Her father called it inevitable.

Catherine had always called it a prison in silk.

She turned away from the dress and reached for her phone. A new message flashed from an unsaved number:

Your car’s driving like new. Just like I promised. —Elijah

She stared at the screen longer than she should have.

She didn’t text back.

She didn’t delete it either.

Elijah stood alone in the garage, late that night, the lights dimmed and the radio off. Just the hum of silence and the soft tick of cooling engines.

He should’ve locked up an hour ago.

Instead, he stood over the workbench, his hands resting on the edge like he was holding himself back from something.

The photo from the fridge sat beside an envelope.

Inside was a letter — thick, formal, embossed.

From Blakes International Holdings.

His family.

The same family that tried to shape him into something polished and ruthless. The same one that tore down businesses like Catherine’s father built — and Catherine’s family despised.

He hadn’t opened the letter yet.

He didn’t want to know what they wanted now. Money? Silence? Return?

He didn’t care.

But Catherine…

She made him care about things again. Things he’d worked hard to bury.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes drifting to the message he’d sent her earlier. No reply. That was probably smart.

Smart wasn’t what he wanted.

The next morning

Catherine was standing in the back of a coffee shop near SoHo, trying to hide behind a menu.

Her best friend Harper spotted her instantly.

“Oh my God,” Harper said, slipping off her sunglasses. “You are avoiding James. Again.”

“I’m not,” Catherine said, flipping the menu. “I’m… postponing.”

“You were supposed to have brunch with his mother. And you’re here drinking burnt espresso in a hoodie.”

Catherine groaned. “Why is it so wrong to not want to marry someone just because he owns beach property?”

Harper leaned in. “Who is he?”

“What?”

“The guy you’re thinking about.”

Catherine blinked.

“You only question the system when you’ve got a reason. Spill.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “A mechanic.”

Harper nearly choked on her croissant. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He fixed my car. He’s… sharp. Confident. Nothing like James.”

“Rich?”

“Not even close.” Catherine stirred her coffee. “But he saw me. Like I wasn’t just a headline or a last name. Like I was just… Catherine.”

Harper leaned back, studying her. “And now what?”

“I don’t know,” Catherine whispered. “But I can’t stop thinking about him.”

Meanwhile, across town, Elijah finally ripped open the envelope.

Inside: a single-page summons.

A demand from his father’s legal team.

“You are hereby requested to attend the Blakes Holdings 75th Anniversary Gala…”

He crumpled the page and threw it across the room.

His past wasn’t just knocking — it was kicking the door in.

And Catherine?

She had no idea who he really was.

Yet.

Later that night, Catherine opened her messages.

She stared at Elijah’s text again.

This time, she typed back:

“So what else do you fix?”

And hit send.

The moment it delivered, her stomach flipped. She hated that. Hated how her heart had the audacity to care.

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two.

Then her phone buzzed.

“I fix cars. Occasionally bruised pride. You?”

She smiled, biting her lip. She typed:

“I break rules.”

“And sometimes hearts.”

“But only on weekends.”

The typing dots blinked, then disappeared. Then came back.

“Good. I’m free this Saturday.”

Her heart thudded. She stared at those six words like they were an invitation and a dare.

She should stop this.

But it was already too late.

Saturday, 7:02 PM.

Catherine stood outside a tiny Italian restaurant tucked between a bookstore and a tattoo parlor, dressed in a soft sweater dress and low boots. Nothing designer. Nothing flashy.

She looked like a version of herself she almost recognized—and almost missed.

Elijah was already waiting, leaning against the wall beside the door. Black jeans. Rolled sleeves. That same infuriating smirk.

“You clean up well,” she said, eyes raking over him.

“So do you. Almost didn’t recognize you without the attitude.”

“I keep it in my purse.”

He held the door open for her. “Leave it there tonight.”

Inside, the restaurant was dim and warm, with exposed brick walls and soft jazz humming beneath the clink of forks and soft laughter. It was nothing like the places she usually went.

And somehow, exactly what she needed.

They ordered simple dishes. Pasta. Wine. No six-course menus. No crystal chandeliers. Just… conversation.

“I Googled you,” he said, after a long sip of wine.

She froze. “And?”

“You’re terrifying.”

She snorted. “Most men say impressive.”

“They’re lying. Or rich enough not to care.”

“What did you find?”

“Photos. Articles. Charity galas. And a very awkward picture of you in a tiara at some debutante ball.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Burn it.”

“Too late. I saved it.”

She laughed. He grinned.

The air shifted.

As the night wore on, their walls lowered. She told him about boarding school in Geneva. He told her about sleeping in the back of a truck after he left home. She didn’t press for details.

He didn’t offer any.

But it was the space between words that pulled her in most—the things he didn’t say.

She caught him watching her when she wasn’t looking.

Like he was memorizing her.

Later.

Outside, it had started to rain.

“I’ll call a car,” she said.

“I’ll walk you.”

“I’m wearing suede.”

“You’re rich. They’ll survive.”

She laughed, but followed him down the sidewalk, rain misting around them. His jacket was too thin. Her hair was starting to curl. And for once—she didn’t care.

They stopped under a canopy just before the next block.

Neither moved.

“Elijah,” she said softly. “Why do I feel like you’re hiding something?”

His jaw ticked. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But I do.”

He stepped closer. The space between them shrank.

Too close.

Not close enough.

His hand reached up—fingertips brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek.

“I’m not the guy you think I am,” he said.

“Then tell me who you are.”

He hesitated.

Then the sound of a phone ringing broke the moment. Loud. Sharp. Real.

He stepped back.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling it from his pocket. He glanced at the screen—Unknown Number—and declined the call.

But Catherine caught the look on his face before he turned away.

Fear.

Regret.

Recognition.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He nodded.

Lied.

Cut to Elijah’s POV: Later that night

He sat in the dark of his apartment, phone glowing with missed calls. All from New York international numbers. The kind he used to answer with “Sir” and “Yes, Father.”

He didn’t call them back.

Instead, he pulled the old photograph from his wallet again.

The one with him in the tailored suit. The same man beside him, stone-faced, ruthless.

His father.

Next to it, he unfolded the summons to the Blakes Holdings Gala once more.

He stared at the name printed at the bottom:

Jonathan Smith — keynote speaker.

Catherine’s father.

He closed his eyes.

“Of all the girls in this city…”

이 책을 계속 무료로 읽어보세요.
QR 코드를 스캔하여 앱을 다운로드하세요

최신 챕터

  • TOO RICH TO BE MINE.   The Lie Between His Lips.

    Catherine hadn’t cried when she left Elijah’s suite.Not on the ride home.Not when she walked past James and her parents like they were air.Not even when her mother called after her with a sharp, “You missed your future this morning.”But now, alone in her room with the door locked and her phone facedown, the silence was too heavy to carry.She sank onto her bed, knees curled, the city lights painting her ceiling with flickers of silver and gold. They looked like stars — and she hated them for it.Because Elijah had once told her she made the stars feel close.And now?Now, even his name was a lie.⸻He said he was Elijah Carsen.Not Elijah Miles Blakes.He’d told her about the girl he was supposed to marry — how it was a family decision he didn’t want. He even said he left that life behind. It was emotional. Vulnerable. Honest enough to hurt — but vague enough to control the damage.She had looked into his eyes that night and believed him. Held his secrets like fragile glass and pr

  • TOO RICH TO BE MINE.   Diamonds in Cages.

    The silence in her parents’ penthouse was never just silence.It was performance. It was tension dressed in crystal and marble. And as Catherine walked in—coat still clinging to her skin like memory—she could feel it all pressing down on her.Her mother was waiting in the living room. Perfectly still. Not a hair out of place.“You’re late,” she said, not looking up from her tablet. “And you missed brunch with the Carters.”Catherine didn’t respond. She walked past her, toward the hallway. But before she could escape, her father’s voice called out from the dining room.“Catherine. Sit.”She froze.The chair was already pulled out for her, like this was a board meeting she hadn’t asked to attend. James was sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a pale grey suit and a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“Lovely to see you,” he said casually, swirling wine in a glass like he lived there.Catherine sat. Slowly. Her heart hadn’t stopped thudding since she left Elijah’s place.

  • TOO RICH TO BE MINE.   What He Left Behind.

    “Were you ever going to tell me you were supposed to marry her?”Her voice cracked just slightly at the end, but she stood tall in his suite, bathed in the golden hush of the early morning sun. Catherine looked like a question he didn’t deserve to answer — elegant, wounded, and furious in the kind of quiet way that made it worse.Elijah didn’t move. Didn’t speak.The question sliced through him with surgical precision.“I need the truth,” she added, her voice low now. “Not the gentle version. Not the one you tell yourself to sleep better at night.”He finally looked at her. “I didn’t sleep at all.”“Then start talking.”He let out a breath and sat down slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. The rich silence between them stretched — tense, loaded, raw.“You want the truth?” he murmured. “Fine.”She crossed her arms but said nothing.“I was supposed to marry her. Years ago. My name was printed on gold-foil invitations before I ever had the chance to speak up. I was born into it. Groom

  • TOO RICH TO BE MINE.   Names That Don’t Belong to Him.

    The ride home was a blur. Catherine couldn’t remember the roads she took, or how many red lights she might’ve run. Her hands stayed clenched around the wheel, knuckles white, jaw locked so tight it ached.She had said she needed more than love.She just hadn’t expected less than truth.By the time she reached the quiet luxury of her family’s penthouse, morning light was already spilling across the horizon. The city was waking. She was unraveling.She dropped her heels by the door and headed straight for the living room, tossing her coat aside and reaching for her laptop. She didn’t know what she was looking for exactly—only that she couldn’t sit still, not when her head was screaming with questions.What did Elijah mean by “the board”?Who was he talking to?And who the hell was he supposed to marry?She started with what she knew.Blake Holdings.She typed the name into the private database her father paid ridiculous money to maintain access to. It didn’t take long to find the busine

  • TOO RICH TO BE MINE.   Morning With A Stranger?

    Catherine woke up to warmth— Elijah’s arm draped strongly around her waist, paying close attention to his heartbeat, the morning sun spilling across tangled sheets that smelled like sweat, skin, love and sin.For a moment, time froze, along side her body. She didn’t move, she didn’t want to. This felt like peace. Like a Future. Like maybe love could survive being lied to. But then she blinked herself into reality and remembered everything. James’s mouth on her neck. The sound of Elijah’s voice breaking. Talia’s eyes flashing like warning lights in the dark. She turned slowly, careful not to wake him. But he was already awake, watching her.“You always look like that in the morning?” He asked quietly, his voice a bit raspy. She blinked. “Like what?”“Like you’re planning your escape.”Catherine sat up, pulling the blanket to her chest. “Should I be?”He flinched at that — the kind of flinch a man makes when he knows he still owes the truth.“I didn’t expect last night to happen,

  • TOO RICH TO BE MINE.   Sheets of Forgiveness.

    Catherine didn’t sleep.Not really.She closed her eyes, but her body pulsed with guilt—and longing. The guilt belonged to James. The longing? That part hadn’t moved. It was still tethered to Elijah.It wasn’t just what happened.It was how she let it.How she’d wanted to forget.But Elijah’s voice, his eyes, the way he said her name—none of it left her. Not even in the arms of someone else.She sat on her balcony as the sun cracked open the sky. The cool breeze kissed her bare shoulders. She hadn’t changed from the dress she wore last night. A shameful echo of all the ways she’d tried to erase him.The gate buzzed.Her heart jumped.She didn’t check. She didn’t have to.She opened the door before he could knock.Elijah stood there, face shadowed, eyes bloodshot.They stared at each other.No words. Just… gravity.He stepped inside. She didn’t stop him.“I saw you,” he said finally. “Last night.”Catherine swallowed, her chest tightening. “I know.”He looked like it physically pained

더보기
좋은 소설을 무료로 찾아 읽어보세요
GoodNovel 앱에서 수많은 인기 소설을 무료로 즐기세요! 마음에 드는 책을 다운로드하고, 언제 어디서나 편하게 읽을 수 있습니다
앱에서 책을 무료로 읽어보세요
앱에서 읽으려면 QR 코드를 스캔하세요.
DMCA.com Protection Status