Chapter 3

Unable to hold back my emotions, I shoved the door open.

The room fell silent at once. Dozens of eyes swiveled toward me. Some raised their brows, exchanging knowing glances, while others looked me up and down with open curiosity or thinly veiled disdain.

Half a beat later, someone snickered and pointed. "Miles, looks like Miss Cinderella decided to show up."

Miles jolted upright, visibly startled. "Natalie, what are you doing here?"

The girl who had smashed my pendant let out a mocking laugh. Without hesitation, she draped her arms around his neck and flashed me a sugar-sweet smile.

"Natalie Clark, isn't it? I've heard plenty about you from Miles. And I see he wasn't lying, you're indeed quite…" Her gaze swept me from head to toe, lingering just long enough to sting. "…pretty."

A ripple of laughter broke out behind her.

"Allow me to reintroduce," she continued, her voice syrupy and mocking. "This is Miles Lewis, second son of the family behind Everbright Enterprise. I'm Hannah Parker, his childhood friend. My family happens to deal with yachts. If you ever need one, you know who to call."

"Oh, please," The same man from earlier sneered. "Hannah. Know your audience. I bet she's never even stepped on a yacht in her life."

"Don't be mean," Hannah laughed, tightening her grip on Miles as though staking her claim. "She is Miles's girlfriend, after all. Forget yachts, I'm sure he'd get her a plane, if she wanted one."

I stared at the group in front of me, people from a world so far removed from mine, and my body shook uncontrollably. My throat tightened, and no words would come out.

It felt unreal, like I had stumbled into a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

After what felt like forever, I clenched my fists and forced my voice out, trembling. "So, you're rich?"

Miles leaned casually against Hannah, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"Not too bad. Just average rich," he said lightly. "My company is worth, oh, a few tens of billions."

I lowered my head, forcing my voice to be calm. "So there's no little brother in the hospital. No medical bills."

No wonder. No wonder every time I offered to visit, Miles always had some excuse ready. That little brother of his never even existed.

"Hey, let me explain," Hannah said with a careless laugh. Her voice was light, almost teasing. "Miles has been scammed before. We didn't want it to happen again, so we suggested he pretend to be poor. Just to test you."

She made it sound like the whole thing was a joke, like it didn't matter at all.

Miles grabbed my hand, his eyes sparkling with pride that he didn't even seem to realize. "Congratulations, Natalie. You passed. Aren't you happy?"

"Happy?" I repeated flatly, staring at him.

"Yes, that's right. Now you're officially my real girlfriend," he said, leaning closer, still smiling.

Something inside me snapped. I smiled too, but it was too wide, too sharp. "Yes, I'm delighted."

Then, before anyone could react, my hand shot across his face. His head jerked to the side, and the sound of the slap echoed in the room.

Rage and grief erupted from me in a flood I couldn't control. My whole body shook as I glared at him, forcing each word through clenched teeth.

"Miles Lewis, you are a monster!" I screamed.

*****

When I burst out of that room, tears finally came.

I told myself he wasn't worth it. A man like him never was.

But I couldn't stop remembering the nights we slept tangled in each other's arms, his bright eyes locked on mine as he whispered that he loved me.

Lies. Every word and every moment was nothing but a performance.

A joke. A cruel and heartless joke made up by a woman he knew.

Honestly, I felt disoriented, like I was still trapped in a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

The dull ache in my chest stretched on until I went numb. And then it hit me that this was real.

I had sold the only thing my grandmother left me in this world for a lie.

And after all of that, he still had the nerve to ask if I was happy.

I let out a bitter laugh as I headed home.

*****

Back home, I didn't say a word. I packed up Miles's things and set them by the door.

It wasn't much—just some clothes and a handful of odds and ends. Together, they were probably worth less than the hem of one of his jackets.

Among them was a pair of clumsy, hand-painted mugs I'd made for his birthday.

I could still remember how nervous I'd been when he went quiet after opening them, blurting out that I didn't have money for anything better but had poured my heart into them.

He'd stared at the mugs for a long moment before pulling me into his arms with a smile, saying he loved them.

After that, he used one every day, even though it was ugly and uneven.

My eyes lingered on the mugs, the ones painted with two halves of a heart. After a long silence, I dropped them both in the trash.

Only then did it hit me—the sincerity I thought we shared had never been real to him.

The idea of some pampered heir pretending to be poor was ridiculous, almost cruelly ironic. I have to hand it to him—he played the part flawlessly. Keeping up that act for so long must have been exhausting for him.

As I dragged the trash downstairs, I ran straight into Miles.

His Ferrari roared to a stop at the curb. Hannah stepped out with him, casually linking her arm through his.

Before Miles could say a word, Hannah spoke.

Her voice dripped with condescension as she said, "Natalie Clark, enough already. You're lucky to even be with Miles. So why are you acting like this?"

I saw right through her. Her aggression made it obvious she liked him, and that so-called 'test' had probably been her idea all along.

I let out a cold laugh. "And what does any of this have to do with you? Who are you to say such things to me?"

Hannah froze. "I'm speaking as his friend."

I sneered. "The kind of friend who's trying to climb into his bed?"

Her face darkened instantly, and Miles's expression soured as well.

"Natalie, are you serious right now?" Miles began, his voice strained.

"Look, I admit I didn't think it through before. I can pay you back a hundred times, a thousand times for that pendant. It wasn't worth much anyway. I'll buy you something better. Isn't that enough?"

For a moment, I couldn't speak. The man I had loved for so long felt terrifyingly unfamiliar.

In his eyes, my grandmother's pendant, her final gift to me, was just a trinket he could replace with money.

I didn't want to say another word. People like him would never understand.

In their world, everything was measured by money, and it could solve anything.

So I pointed to the side and said coldly, "Get out."

I walked over to the trash bin and hurled the bag inside.

The weight of the mug caused it to tumble free, smashing against the ground with a sharp crack as it split in two.

Miles's face changed as he stared at it.

"You even threw away the mugs?" he asked, voice tight with disbelief.

I laughed softly. "Because now, it's the same as you in my eyes. Garbage."

His expression turned stormy. He glared at me for a long moment before muttering through clenched teeth, "Alright, fine."

He added, his voice low and menacing, "Don't regret this, Natalie Clark. I'll be waiting for the day you come crawling back to me in tears."