My Pretend-to-Be-Poor Boyfriend Discovers I'm a Hidden Heiress

I fell in love with a broke guy at first sight.

I started dating the poorest guy in the school.

While the school beauty and the school hunk drove a Lamborghini and flaunted their wealth, we rode a Schwinn Black Phantom to the mountaintop to stargaze.

While the school beauty and the school hunk dined on a candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, we were at a street stall bargaining over fifty-cent Swedish meatballs.

Others laughed at us, saying we were shortsighted and that poor people had poor fates.

But we were content, and our relationship was growing stronger.

Just when I thought this was the soulful love I wanted, we met at an auction.

"What a coincidence! I'm here to work as a cleaner."

"What a coincidence! I'm here to work as a security guard."

***

As soon as I started school, I noticed Hugh Mason, standing out among the luxury cars with his Schwinn Black Phantom and a bag of urea.

Especially with his handsome looks, the stark contrast made people around him stare.

Despite being the center of attention, he moved through the crowd as if he were alone, occasionally adjusting his worn-out cloth shoes.

I often watched him secretly.

If he wore a yellowing black T-shirt today, I'd wear a pair of ripped overalls the next day.

If his cloth shoes had patches from wear, I'd peel off the soles of my shoes the next day.

Shoes with peeled soles made a loud, slapping noise when walking, like a duck that wandered into the classroom.

I turned the corner and went upstairs amid mocking stares, only to bump into Hugh being confessed to.

"Hugh, be with me. I'll give you fifty thousand a month, and you won't have to worry about food or clothing."

The school beauty, usually haughty and spoiled, traced an ambiguous circle on Hugh's thin T-shirt with her finger.

Hugh remained calm and pushed her smooth hand away with a pen that had lost its cap and was chipped.

"Sorry, thank you for your offer, but I'm not in need of money and I'm not interested in dating you."

If you only looked at his face and tall, strong figure, he didn't seem like someone who needed money.

But everything about his clothes and belongings screamed that he was dirt poor.

The school beauty, embarrassed by such a flimsy excuse, felt her pride wounded.

"Do you know what it means to be with me? My family owns the Ross Group in Ashwick! Most of Ashwick's chain hotels are ours! Maybe if you make me happy, Ross Group might even hire you as a son-in-law!"

Hugh seemed to curl the corner of his lips slightly, but his expression quickly returned to its indifferent, aloof state.

He pulled out his cordless phone and glanced at it. "Sorry, I'm not very interested. I have class soon, so I have to go."

The school beauty, left standing there, stared in disbelief for a moment before letting out a sharp, angry outburst.

I walked into the classroom through the back door, found a random seat, and easily spotted Hugh sitting at the front of the classroom.

His back was very straight, and his slightly long hair, unkempt due to his lack of money, was tied up with a yellow rubber band.

He looked like a disheveled and unconventional art student.

But the financial economics textbook he was flipping through revealed that this fearless poor guy was studying finance.

A poor guy studying finance, yet disdainful of wealthy women?

Interesting.