Just as I was about to graduate from college, my girlfriend, Evelyn Carter, suddenly broke up with me.

She didn’t just walk away—she left me a villa, a Bentley, and a bank transfer of 18 million dollars, thanking me for four years of companionship.

I stood there stunned, unable to comprehend why she was ending things.

Evelyn’s voice was cold, stripped of all the warmth I had grown to love.

“Nicholas Whitmore, for someone from a family like mine, love and marriage are separate. I’m going back to arrange a marriage. Do you understand?”

——

My girlfriend was engaged, but her fiancé wasn’t me.

When I rushed to the engagement ceremony in Charleston, I saw Evelyn standing on stage.

She wore a couture gown, glittering with jewelry, looking every bit the dignified heiress.

And the man opposite her? Barely five-foot-four, overweight, with acne oozing across his cheeks. Marco Ramirez—the heir to Charleston’s richest nouveau riche family.

Evelyn, my Evelyn, was going to marry a man like that?

I thought back to the night before, which already felt like a lifetime away.

When I had returned to our villa from my internship, Evelyn had pinned me down on the bed. She leaned in, kissing me breathlessly, her voice hoarse:

“Nick, don’t treat me like a person tonight.”

And then she devoured my whole, body and soul.

But when I woke up, she was gone.

Her phone number was disconnected. All her social media—Instagram, Facebook—were wiped clean, deleted.

It was as if she had vanished overnight, leaving me completely blindsided.

By noon, her attorney appeared at the door.

He explained that Evelyn had left strict instructions not to disturb me before noon. Then he handed me a thick envelope.

Inside was a signed deed of transfer: Evelyn Carter voluntarily giving me the villa, the Bentley, and $18 million in savings—as a thank-you for four years of love.

So this was it? She dumped me without explanation, treated me like a gigolo, and bought me off with property and cash?

But she was wrong. I didn’t need her money.

I had told her before that I wasn’t exactly poor. She had only laughed, answering, “No matter how rich you are, you’ll never be richer than me.”

I never cared about her family’s wealth. I loved her. That was all that mattered.

But why is the a sudden break?

Just last night, she was so eager, so passionate, as if she wanted to burn our love into eternity.

Why end it now?

I forced myself to calm down and started digging into the situation through my own channels.

That was how I ended up here—at her engagement.

On stage, I could see it clearly: Evelyn Carter wasn’t happy. She was being forced into this.

“Give me a kiss!” Someone in the crowd jeered.

The greasy little man tried to grab Evelyn’s hand. She flinched back instinctively.

His fleshy lips quivered as he spat, “You forgot what you promised me already?”

Her face drained of color, but she stepped forward anyway. She must have been threatened.

Without hesitation, I shoved through the crowd and shouted:

“Evelyn, if something’s wrong, tell me! Don’t put yourself through this!”

Every gaze in the hall snapped at me.

When Evelyn saw me, a flicker of joy lit her eyes—then vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by icy resolve.

“Who the hell is this kid?” Marco Ramirez barked.

“You dare call my fiancée by her first name so intimately?”

I opened my mouth to reveal my identity, but Evelyn cut me off.

Her brows knit tightly, her voice sharp as knives:

“He’s just a lapdog. Throw him out. Don’t waste your attention on him.”

A lapdog?

The word cut deeper than a knife. Around me, I felt the mocking eyes of the crowd, full of contempt.

So that’s what they thought of me? Evelyn Carter’s obedient little pet?

But I wasn’t one.

Evelyn and I met during a student club activity in my sophomore year. I’d just finished a grueling basketball game, was starving, and stole a pack of chips from my roommate. He cursed me out and told me to call him “godfather” if I wanted to eat his food.

I didn’t even take the joke seriously, but he actually did it, humiliating himself in front of everyone.

That was when Evelyn stepped forward, sharp and fearless, telling me not to bully people just because they were broke—and not to steal food either.

She had that “big sister” vibe, always trying to play fair.

So I leaned into it, pretended to be a pitiful poor boy, pestering her every day until she finally softened. Before long, we were together, and the whole school whispered that I was her kept man.

The rumor stung. I didn’t want her to feel embarrassed, so I told her the truth—that my family wasn’t poor at all. But she just shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

We were together for four years. No dramatic fights, no big betrayals—just raw, passionate love.

So how could she suddenly throw me away?

I looked at Evelyn on stage, and my chest burned with the need for answers. I started toward her, but before I could reach her, Marco Ramirez blocked my path.

He was so short he had to crane his neck to glare up at me. I actually had to dip my head just to meet his eyes.

“You’re still here?” He sneered, puffing up his chest. Then he jumped, trying to slap me across the face.

I stepped back, frowning, and looked past him. “Evelyn… you broke up with me just to marry this clown?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

Before I could react, Evelyn stepped forward and slapped me hard across the cheek.

When Marco swung, I dodged. But when Evelyn struck me, I didn’t move. I was terrified that if I dodged, she’d stumble in those high heels and fall.

She was about to be married, and I was still protecting her. Was I really this pathetic?

Touching my stinging cheek, I felt grief rise like a tide.

Marco smirked, stepping closer, his oily face twisted with contempt.

“So you’re Evelyn’s boyfriend from college, huh? A boy toy playing above his station? Do you even know who I am? I’m Marco Ramirez, heir to the wealthiest family in Charleston.”

I ignored him, my eyes locked on Evelyn. “Leaving without a word—that’s not fair to me.”

“Fair?”

Her tone was ice. “I’ve given you a villa, a car, and millions in savings. What else do you want?”

“Stop this, Nicholas. We’re done!”

Evelyn’s brows furrowed, her lips trembling slightly. “You know as well as I do—families like mine keep love and marriage separate. Thank you for being by my side for four years, but my husband can only be Marco. Do you understand?”

“I’m only asking you one thing.”

My voice was quiet, but steady. “Do you love me?”

I knew how these dynastic marriages worked. My parents had been bound by one, but they had grown up together, fallen in love naturally, and luck had been on their side.

As for me…

I could have had the same fate if I had wanted. My family’s standing in New York’s elite circles was more than secure. I didn’t need to marry for advantage.

“Love?” Evelyn sneered.

“Stop deluding yourself, Nicholas. I’ve known since I was a child that I would be married off. I never believed in love. I was with you because you were handsome… and poor enough to be easy to control.”

Her words were dagger, cold and merciless.

“Now you know the truth you wanted. Leave.”

So, the four years I thought were filled with genuine love were nothing but a lie?

To Evelyn Carter, had I been nothing more than a pretty, obedient boy toy?

How ridiculous.

I nodded slowly. If that was how it was, then fine.

My chest ached, but I could let her go. I came here to try and fight for her one last time. If I couldn’t win her back, then I would set her free.

I looked at Evelyn with a pained smile. “Alright then. I wish you happiness.”

Turning, I started to leave the stage.

But Evelyn’s hands clenched, her eyes darting away from mine as if she couldn’t bear to meet them.

Before I could step off, Marco Ramirez planted himself on my path, smirking.

“Since you’ve already come this far, you might as well stay. Otherwise, you’re disrespecting me, the Ramirez family, and the entire city of Charleston!”

“So arrogant?”

I laughed under my breath.

I’d heard that tone countless times before. In New York’s elite circles, it was inevitable that some desperate upstarts tried to puff themselves up. I’d crushed enough of them over the years that no one dared talk to me like this anymore.

Marco didn’t hear the contempt in my voice. He clapped his hands.

Immediately, a group of men in black suits filed in, surrounding the stage.

“Kid, if I’m unhappy today, you won’t leave this place alive.”

“Get out of here, Nicholas! I don’t want to see you again!” Evelyn snapped, her voice sharp.

“Did I ask you to speak?” Marco snarled, glaring at her. “Do you think I’m blind? Can’t you see you’re still protecting this guy?”

Protecting me?

I caught her gaze for a moment. Worry flickered in her eyes.

Could she really have been lying just now?

Evelyn shook her head quickly. “I just don’t want to be connected to my past anymore. Besides, today is our engagement—why should my ex-boyfriend have any part in it? And if people talk about it afterward, wouldn’t you lose face?”

Her tone softened, almost coaxing. “Marco, I’m thinking of you.”

Marco’s expression loosened, but arrogance still dripped from his voice. “I’m not afraid of losing face. In Charleston, I’m the king!”

He jabbed a finger at me. “Sit down there and watch the ceremony!”

I gave Evelyn a faint, crooked smile and walked down from the stage.

But no sooner had I stepped off than four bodyguards shoved me into a corner seat, boxing me in.

Marco leaned forward smugly. “You’re not leaving until I say you can.”

I chuckled. “If you don’t let me go now, you won’t be able to get rid of me later.”

“Shut up!” Evelyn barked.

I only smiled faintly and said nothing. If they wanted to play this game, they couldn’t blame me for how it ended.

Marco’s voice boomed again. “I hear you’re from New York? Perfect. Some of the capital’s top young elites are coming later. I’ll introduce you to them, let you see what real power looks like.”

“Thanks in advance,” I replied lightly, unable to suppress another grin.

Just then, a group of people swept into the hall.

Young men and women, dressed impeccably, carried themselves with calm arrogance.

At their head was a man barely into his twenties, yet he radiated authority that stilled the room.

“Zane, you’re finally here,” Marco beamed, stepping forward eagerly, hand outstretched. “My engagement party wouldn’t be complete without you.”

But the young man—Zane Mitchell—ignored his hand completely. He didn’t even glance at Marco. Instead, his eyes locked directly onto Evelyn.

“You’re Evelyn Carter?” he asked.

She blinked, startled, before nodding.

Zane’s expression softened into a faint smile. “He hid you well. Otherwise, we’d have crossed paths much earlier.”

Marco assumed Zane meant him and frowned in confusion. But he quickly masked it and gestured grandly to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Zane Mitchell, heir of the Mitchell family of New York—the Crown Prince of the capital itself. The Mitchells are the strongest backers of my Ramirez family here in Charleston!”