Chapter 2

Early the next morning, I went straight to a pawnshop and sold the pendant.

The owner's first offer was only twelve thousand, but when I pressed for a permanent sale and swore I'd never redeem it, he grudgingly raised it to twenty.

I went home and placed the money in Miles's hands.

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. "Natalie, where did you get this?"

Then he looked closer, his voice faltering. "Wait, have you been crying?"

He probed again, sharper this time. "Natalie, where did this money come from? Who gave it to you?"

"Don't worry. I didn't do anything illegal or outrageous." I forced a nonchalant tone, but the effort fell flat.

Finally, I confessed, my voice trembling, "I… I sold the jade pendant Grandma left me."

Miles froze for a heartbeat, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

Perhaps I imagined it, but it seemed like gratitude, yet laced with a whisper of guilt.

Without another word, he drew me into a tight embrace. Pressing me close, he whispered against my ear, "Thank you, Natalie."

I didn't understand the weight in his tone, only that a small sigh of relief escaped me as I hugged him back, feeling both sad and quietly glad.

"Miles," I murmured, "you have to keep studying. You need to finish your degree."

*****

A few days later, Miles casually mentioned he was going to a graduation dinner.

That night, I called him repeatedly, but he never picked up. By the time midnight crept in, unease gnawed at me.

What if he'd drunk too much? What if something had happened?

When the call finally connected, a woman answered instead. Her voice was light, teasing, laced with a faint contempt.

"You must be Miles's girlfriend," she said smoothly. "He had a little too much to drink. We're at The Noir, Room 503. Why don't you come pick him up?"

I froze.

The Noir was the city's most exclusive restaurant, where dinner bills ran in the thousands and only the wealthy or powerful dined. I'd never set foot inside.

Miles didn't belong there—at least, not in the world I knew of him. But there was no time to question it.

I muttered a quick thanks, hung up, and threw myself into a cab, heart racing as I sped toward the restaurant.

The restaurant dripped with extravagance.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, while gilded details and ornate carvings filled every corner. I had never set foot in a place like this, but even I could tell that nothing here came cheap.

I shrank against the overwhelming luxury, asked a server for directions, and hurried upstairs to Room 503.

The door stood slightly ajar. I hesitated for a second before leaning in to peek through the gap.

Peeking in, I caught sight of a dozen young men and women in designer clothes, laughing and drinking around a massive round table.

Then I saw a girl with long, sleek hair in a Chanel suit, idly twirling a leather cord between her fingers. A pendant dangled from it.

My body went rigid.

I had worn that pendant for over twenty years—I would have known it anywhere. Yet there she was, twirling it between her fingers, like it was nothing.

She glanced up, caught my gaze, and smirked.

And then—Miles. I almost didn't recognize him.

He sat at the head of the table, dressed with casual ease, yet every detail of him radiated wealth and power.

He was still the boy who once split a single cup of noodles with me in our cramped apartment, but now his aura was unrecognizable.

A cigarette dangled between his fingers, his lowered eyes giving off calm dominance as the others laughed and bantered around him.

"Miles, that little Miss Cinderella of yours actually sold her pendant just to cover your brother's medical bills?" a man at the table scoffed, his tone dripping with ridicule.

Miles didn't answer. He took a drag, exhaled slowly, brows knitting in faint annoyance.

"She's serious about you," a silver-haired man beside him remarked, flicking his lighter. "Too bad she doesn't realize twenty grand wouldn't even buy one sleeve of your jacket."

Another voice chimed in, mocking: "Miles, don't tell me you're actually serious about her, too?"

Miles let out a scoff, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

"She's nobody," he said flatly. "Just someone to pass the time with."

The girl beside him laughed, circling behind to drape her hands over his shoulders.

"Miles, I really like this pendant. Give it to me?" she coaxed, her voice light and playful.

"Try another one. This one won't do," Miles said flatly, pausing mid-drag.

"After twenty years of friendship, you're still this stingy?" she teased with a smile, her tone lilting, almost mocking.

"Could it be..." she murmured teasingly, "You've really fallen for her?"

Miles exhaled smoke slowly, irritation flickering in his eyes.

"Nonsense," he snapped. "Take it if you want it."

The girl laughed softly and slipped the pendant around her neck, a glint of disdain flashing in her eyes.

She lifted her chin, catching me through the crack in the door, her smile twisting with malice.

"You were right," she said sweetly, unclasping it again. "It's not worth a thing. Twenty thousand dollars wouldn't even buy one pair of my shoes."

Then she let go.

The pendant hit the floor with a sharp crack as it shattered.

"Oops, my bad for not holding it properly," she said lightly, giving the fragments a careless nudge with her heel.

Her smile never wavered. "Sorry, Miles. Hope you're not mad at me."

Miles's face darkened.

After a long silence, he muttered, "It's just a cheap trinket. Let the staff clean it up later."

Hearing their conversation, my mind went blank.

By now, I should have understood. I should have stormed in, shouted at him, slapped him, and called him a monster.

But I couldn't move. I just stood there, frozen.

A chill crept over me, seeping into my bones. It was like being shoved under icy water and left there—lungs burning and every breath a losing battle.

All I could do was watch as the staff swept up the shattered pendant and tossed it into the trash, like it was nothing more than worthless debris.

Just like me. Worthless.