After my girlfriend's father hit someone with a car, he took his own life because he didn't want to get arrested. But in doing so, he left behind a huge debt he had racked up.

In order to help my girlfriend pay off the compensation, I work around the clock as a food deliveryman. Every day, I sleep less than four hours just to squeeze in more work.

But when I finish delivering a new order, I notice a man clad in a bathrobe standing in front of me at a hotel suite's doorway. He's completely covered in hickeys.

A young woman dressed in a sexy nightgown hugs him from behind.

"I'm absolutely famished right now because of how long you've been tormenting me in bed earlier, darling! Hurry up and grab the takeout!"

I can only stare at the woman, completely shell-shocked. That's when the bag of takeout slips off my fingers and crashes onto the floor.

The woman takes a step backward. Her brows drawn into a frown, she exclaims, "How are my boyfriend and I supposed to enjoy the food now that it's all dirty?"

After that, she kicks the takeout at me right away, spilling grease all over my clothes.

I remain rooted to the spot, still stunned.

This woman… is Irene Swensen, my girlfriend who's about to get engaged to me.

"Hey, sonny. You should leave as soon as possible after you're done delivering the food. The heiress here has a very hot temper."

The janitor who was pushing her cart past me suddenly spoke to me, giving me some kind advice.

Meanwhile, I stared at her in confusion.

She continued speaking in a low voice.

"You know about Swensen Group, don't you? They don't just own this hotel—they even own all of the other shops and buildings along this street."

Then, I looked into the trash can on her cart and saw a whole mountain of freshly used condoms.

Just a few days ago, I was still overjoyed that my little home business was starting to pick up and happily thinking that I could finally afford to buy my girlfriend, Irene Swensen, some presentable dresses after all.

But now, someone else was telling me that this hotel, along with the other buildings in the central district of Attingsdale, belonged to the Swensens?

I couldn't help but recall the many times Irene had helped me out in my little breakfast shop, mixing pancake batter and rolling out the dough for homemade breakfast buns while chatting amicably with me.

When the morning rush was over, we'd even made plans to buy a modest, secondhand apartment in the suburbs as our new home after we got married.

But now, Irene turned out to be a rich heiress after all, and she even had another boyfriend too?

Then what was I to her? Was I just the clown there to provide her some comedy relief? Or, was I the homewrecker after all?

I stood outside the door, wondering if I should knock on the door once again. Just then, a few young women walked toward me as they chatted and joked among each other.

"Really, do you even know how long Irene has been in the hotel room with Kevin Pickett? Isn't she worried that she won't be able to walk afterward?

"Say, do you think that she's also that horny when she's rolling in the sheets with that idiot who owns the breakfast shop?"

That idiot.

So, this was what they all thought of me behind my back. They spoke in such a mocking, disdainful tone that I didn't even want to think about how lowly they must have thought of me over the past few years when I'd been unaware of everything.

A short while later, Irene opened the door, slammed her palm against the side of the door, and glared aggressively at her friends who were trying to peek inside the room.

"What are you looking at? Didn't I tell you not to disturb me?"

Her friends immediately looked away and chuckled awkwardly.

"We were just here to take a peek at your fiance. Of course we'd never dare to steal him away from you once you'd set your eyes on him.

"It's just that we thought of inviting him along with us to the newly opened bar nearby."

Irene slammed the door shut with a cold expression on her face. A few minutes later, she appeared at the door again, fully dressed, holding hands with a man I could only assume was Kevin, her so-called fiance.

I hid behind the emergency exit door not too far away, feeling like I'd just lost all of my energy in my limbs. My eyes were also rimmed red.

I should have run up to her and demanded answers then and there, but I didn't have the courage to do so.

Meanwhile, I kept getting new order notifications on my phone, and I had no choice but to suppress the upset feeling in my chest and run out of the hotel in my disheveled state.

While about to leave on my bike, I accidentally lightly scratched it against the luxury car parked opposite me.

The owner of the car was none other than Irene. She was sitting lazily in the driver's seat, looking classy and elegant. I could also clearly see the tiny mole in the corner of her eye.

One of her hands was draped over the steering wheel, whilst the other held Kevin's hand.

Kevin smiled at me and said, "You're the food delivery guy from earlier, aren't you? Since my girlfriend soiled your clothes just now, and you scratched my car this time, we'll just call it even, alright? You can just leave."

Irene then glanced at me momentarily and said in a cold voice, "Since my boyfriend's already said the word, then hurry up and get out of my face! You're not going to be this lucky next time!"

She probably couldn't recognize me because I always wore a mask on my face and pulled my cap low over my eyes when doing deliveries.

Then, she started up her car and drove off. I sat on my scooter bike, watching her car roar off in the distance and noticing her vintage car license plate that had to have cost a small fortune.

The price of her license plate was enough to pay for a sizable house in the suburbs.

Just some time ago, Irene was still lying on a secondhand mattress with me back in our tiny apartment.

"Justin Larson, when I've finally paid off all my debts, I'll buy you a nice little car. That way, you won't have to worry about getting drenched in the rain anymore."

But now, I witnessed her driving a luxury car worth hundreds of thousands of dollars with a license plate that was worth more than what I could ever earn in the next 20 years.

After getting back home, I went online and searched for more information on Swensen Group. I found out that the chairman was none other than Irene's dad, Joe Swensen.

So, her dad wasn't dead after all—in fact, he was one of the richest and most influential businessmen in the city.

What else had Irene lied to me about?

Later that night, I heard the sound of the door being unlocked from the outside.

Irene was back, and she was wearing the cheap dress I'd bought on sale for her for less than ten dollars.

"Are you hungry? Should I make you some dinner for tonight?" she asked as soon as she saw me. "There was a sudden huge order tonight, and we all had to stay to work overtime. But I guess the good thing is that we all get paid for that."

I watched her as she continued mumbling softly to herself while preparing dinner for me. The sour, aching bitterness of betrayal rose in my throat, and my heart sank like a stone.

By the time Irene brought the food over to me, I had already forced down the churning emotions.

"Why are your clothes all soiled? Did a customer do this to you on your rounds today?"

I stared at her for half a minute.

"It's nothing. I accidentally spilled some food on myself."

She walked up to me with a damp towel and tried to remove the stain from my clothes with a concerned look on her face.

"It must have been a really rude customer who did this to you. Next time, you should just leave these things to me. If I'm not there with you on your delivery rounds, then you're not allowed to go on your own!

"I'd rather that we earn fewer dollars than watch you get bullied like this!"

I choked slightly from her words. However, the emotion immediately disappeared as soon as I saw the faint hickeys on her neck.

Before falling asleep, Irene hugged my waist and buried her face in the crook of my neck.

"I'm going to follow my boss overseas for work starting tomorrow for three or four days. I'll make sure to bring home some yummy snacks for you to try."

I just hummed lightly in response. A while later, Irene was fast asleep, but I wasn't able to sleep a wink all night.

She left early the next morning.

I secretly followed her from behind and watched her enter a luxurious ballroom in a very upscale hotel.

From far away, I caught sight of a middle-aged couple who were very well-dressed, seemingly waiting for her.

Irene walked up to them and greeted them, "Mom" and "Dad".

There was also a young teenage girl, about 15 or 16 years old, happily bouncing around them and also referring to the same couple as her parents.

It was Ireme's younger sister.

At that point, I suddenly lost balance and nearly fell.

Back then, Irene had told me that her dad first killed himself, followed by her mom not too long after. And then, her younger sister, Ingrid Swensen, had been abducted by kidnappers and she'd lost contact with her since then.

I felt very sorry for Irene when she told me the tragic story of her family. That was the main reason why I had given her all of the money I'd earned over the past two years so that she could pay off her debt. I also made sure to take good care of her to make her happy.

During Thanksgiving and Christmas months, I wouldn't even go home to my parents' because I didn't want her to feel alone and left out because she didn't have a family to call her own.

I worked hard so that I could provide her with a home and a family. To save, I refused to waste money on medication or doctor's visits, wearing only the cheapest second-hand clothes I could find. I worked myself to the bone until white hair began to streak my head.

But now, I found out that Irene was not an orphan. In fact, she was a wealthy heiress with a wonderful family of her own.

I suddenly recalled the words some of her friends had said that other day.

Irene had only begun approaching me after realizing that I resembled Kevin.

Now that I thought about it, I realized just how laughable and pathetic it was.

…

After Irene and her family entered the ballroom, I disguised myself as a waiter and sneaked in.

Irene was chatting and mingling very naturally with the rest of the distinguished guests. I overheard her discussing the sale of a plot of land somewhere for tens of millions of dollars.

Her parents, Joe Swensen and Mandy Osbourne, seemed to be very proud of a daughter like her. A short while later, someone came up to them and asked Irene about her relationship status.

Mandy immediately tugged Kevin closer to her with a satisfied look on her face.

"This is my future son-in-law and Irene's boyfriend, Kevin Pickett."

Kevin had a smug look on his face.

"Mrs. Swensen, I might be dating Irene now, but there's still someone hounding her and refusing to let her go."

Mandy's face turned dark at once. She began questioning Irene with a stern look on her face.

"What is this I'm hearing?"

Irene lowered her gaze for a few seconds. Then, she met Mandy's eyes and said calmly, "He's nobody, just a gigolo trying to get close to me to escape poverty. He's not someone you need to worry about."

Joe nodded.

"Don't worry, Kevin. Irene would never fall for someone as lowly and filthy as that."

Kevin was beyond delighted. He then asked Irene to go out to the balcony with him for a breath of fresh air.

There was a huge balcony outside the ballroom. The night breeze was blowing and the moon was shining gently outside. Kevin and Irene looked like the perfect couple as they walked out side by side.

Kevin suddenly stopped and looked at Irene with a pitiful look on his face.

"When are we finally going to start looking at houses, Irene? We can't possibly not have a place to stay after getting married."

Irene pointed at an upscale condominium building nearby.

"I've already bought the place a while ago, in that building over there. It's on the 28th floor—your favorite lucky number."

I turned to look, following the direction of Irene's finger.

The building she was pointing at was one of the most expensive pieces of real estate in the whole of Attingsdale. The condos went for prices as high as 100 million dollars, and each condo unit spanned an area of at least 10,000 square feet. Only wealthy and noble billionaires could afford to live there.

I dropped my gaze in embarrassment. However, I saw the 20-dollar shoes I was wearing on my feet instead.

These were the shoes that Irene had bought for me as a birthday gift. It wasn't branded in the least, but it had meant more to me than any luxury brand back then.

I couldn't even bear to get it dirty and would always carefully wipe away the dirt on its surface every time after wearing it.

Maybe Joe and Mandy were indeed referring to people like me when they said I was "lowly and filthy", only deserving to wear shoes not worth more than 20 bucks.

The night breeze was picking up. Kevin saw that Irene seemed to be shivering a little from the cold, and he said softly, "It's always chillier at night. Next time, don't wear such revealing dresses anymore."

He then put an arm around Irene's shoulders as she nodded slightly.

"You're always so good at taking care of people, Irene. I'm sure that you're going to be a brilliant mother after we're married."

Irene stared out to yonder and seemed to fall into deep thought for a bit.

"I'll be a brilliant mother after we have children together."

She stood with him on the balcony as they planned their future together. Meanwhile, I could only hide in the corner and peek at their happiness together like a disgraceful sewer rat.

I had been waiting for her for too long. I didn't want to wait anymore.

So, I sent her my final text message.

"Let's break up, Irene."