I, the sole heiress to the Valerius media empire, hid my identity to pursue art and a love that wasn't about my fortune. For six years, I dated Clark Davenport, the CEO of a then-penniless startup, using my connections and business acumen to help him build his empire.

Everyone thought we would get married.

Instead, at the celebration for his company's public listing, he publicly proposed to movie star Delilah Ashford.

The man who'd sworn to love me forever was on one knee, professing his undying love to another woman.

My father, Marcus Valerius, disguised as a guest in the crowd, confronted him. "I thought Nina was your girlfriend. What about the woman who's been with you for six years?"

Clark's expression turned cold and dismissive.

"She's just a penniless artist with no connections. She was with me through the hard times, sure, but her humble background just doesn't fit with where I am now. Besides, she can't hold a candle to Delilah in any way. Why would I settle for her?"

Hiding behind the door, I felt my heart shatter. In that moment, I finally understood. I was just a stepping stone, someone to be discarded when I was no longer useful.

I watched my father's shoulders tense with rage and gave a bitter smile. My gamble on 'true love' was a complete and utter loss.

I accepted the arranged marriage my father had planned for me. But just as I was about to marry another man, Clark burst through security, fell to his knees before me, and begged, tears streaming down his face.

"Nina, I was wrong. Please, don't marry him."

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1

The night wind blew cold, scattering the last embers of my fantasies about love.

I met my father's gaze, a mix of heartache and fury, and smiled bitterly. "Dad, I lost."

My father gently patted my back, his touch as comforting as it was when I was a child. "Next month, Herbert will come for you. The alliance between the Ramirez and Valerius families... that's the future you deserve."

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and nodded firmly. After seeing my father off, I slipped back into the apartment I shared with Clark.

Not long after, Clark pushed the door open. Seeing me by the window, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. He kissed my neck, his breath quickening as his hands restlessly slid beneath my shirt, fingertips tracing the curve of my skin.

Feeling his familiar desire, I didn't fight it, my body going limp in acquiescence. He was a ravenous wolf, taking and taking until I drowned in the waves of pleasure he created.

As I was drifting off, he kissed my cheek, his voice a low whisper. "Honey, why don't you go to Europe for that art residency? I know how much you've always wanted to study in Paris."

I opened my reddened eyes, fighting to keep my voice steady. "What about you?"

He gazed at me, his smile deepening. "I'll wait for you here, take care of everything. When you come back, we'll get married."

I gave a slight nod, lowering my gaze to hide the chilling disappointment in my eyes.

He was lying. He wasn't waiting for us to get married. He was shipping me off to make room for Delilah and their wedding of the century.

I am the sole heiress of the Valerius Media Group. A single word from me, and countless exceptional men would line up for a chance. Yet, I fell for Clark when he had nothing.

I hid my identity to be with him, stayed by his side for six years, secretly leveraging my father's connections to pave his way and help him become one of the new darlings of the tech world.

But he decided I wasn't worthy.

When my father confronted him in disguise tonight, Clark's words were a knife twisting in my gut:

"She's just a penniless artist with no family, no background. She was with me through the hard times, sure, but she isn't fit to be the wife of Davenport Technologies' CEO. Besides, she can't even hold a candle to Delilah. Why would I settle for her?"

Seeing my silence, Clark must have thought I was hesitating. He sighed and placed a black card on the bedside table. "Don't worry, I won't let you suffer. I'll cover all your expenses in Europe."

He paused, then added, "But you can't show up in front of Delilah. She's emotionally fragile. Her doctor says she can't handle any stress. I care about her, and I won't let anyone get between us."

How ironic. Get between them? I was there from the beginning.

I took a deep breath, pushed the black card back toward him, and met his eyes. "Alright, I'll go."

He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I'll stay with you tonight."

But the words had barely left his mouth when his phone rang. The screen lit up with Delilah's name, and he instantly let me go to answer.

"Clark, darling... I think my depression is flaring up again. Can you... can you please come? I need you."

Clark shot to his feet, grabbing his jacket and rushing for the door. He left in such a hurry he barely got his shoes on.

I stared at his retreating back, feeling numb.

Six years ago, he was just a programmer with talent but no power, a target for anyone to bully. For him, I used my connections to handle anyone who got in his way.

Once, his company's funding dried up, and it was on the verge of bankruptcy. I sold my most beloved painting and even dipped into the trust fund my mother left me to see him through the crisis.

Another time, a competitor tried to steal his core code. I risked exposing my identity by asking my father's legal team to step in and save his life's work.

Back then, Clark held me with tears in his eyes and promised, "Nina, if I ever betray you, I hope I lose everything."

I thought he loved me. For six years, I poured everything I had into him, only to be told I was unworthy, that I couldn't even compare to Delilah.

How utterly ridiculous.

If, in your eyes, I'm just a stepping stone to be kicked aside, then there's no reason for me to keep fooling myself.

Your luck just ran out, Clark.

Sleep wouldn't come.

No matter how hard I tried, my mind kept replaying images of Clark and Delilah. I didn't have to see it to know he was holding her with a tenderness he once reserved for me, whispering comforts in her ear.

I had to pack. I had to leave this place tomorrow.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a commotion in the apartment. Irritated, I climbed out of bed.

I opened the door to see movers carrying out my paintings and furniture, their voices carrying from the other room.

"Are we really throwing all this out? What if she asks about it?"

"She's leaving anyway. Who cares?"

"Boss said the new Mrs. Davenport is moving in soon, and she wants the place redone in her style. Everything's gotta go."

My heart seized. I stepped forward to stop them. "Stop! Those are my paintings!"

But Clark emerged from the study and casually grabbed my arm, his eyes cold. "It's just stuff, Nina. You can buy new things in Europe."

My brow furrowed in disbelief. Had he completely forgotten? That we found this old sofa together at a Brooklyn flea market? That this painting commemorated our first date?

I had always cherished them, but clearly, that didn't matter anymore. I lowered my gaze, pulled my arm from his grasp, took a deep breath, and conceded. "Fine. Throw them away."

His gaze was indifferent, his tone icy as he added, "The apartment needs to be cleared out for renovations. Your flight is in three days. Get a hotel until then."

I stared at him, shocked he could be in such a rush to dispose of me. His eyes were serious, utterly devoid of warmth. To him, I was just a pet he'd grown bored of.

As the movers helped load my luggage into a taxi, my heart felt like a lead weight in my chest. Watching Clark stand at the door, personally supervising the renovations, completely absorbed in preparations for his new wedding, I managed a bitter smile.

The sight sent a searing pain through my chest, like a blade twisting in my heart.

Halfway to the hotel, the taxi came to an abrupt stop at a quiet intersection. As I glanced at the driver in confusion, the back door was yanked open. Two burly men dragged me roughly from the car.

A red Ferrari was parked by the curb, and leaning against its door was Delilah, the very picture of a victor.

In person, she was even more striking than on screen—and far more cruel.

She was beautiful and flamboyant, the kind of woman born for the spotlight. No wonder Clark was so captivated.

When she saw me, her eyes raked over my body with unconcealed contempt.

"Clark was right, you really are nothing special. You have a stench of poverty you just can't wash off. No wonder he never took you to public events. Someone like you could never belong in our world. After all these years, he still saw you as nothing more than a bed warmer."

I straightened my rumpled collar and retorted coldly, "Then I suppose you're the new bed warmer."

Her face darkened. Her hand flew out and slapped me hard across the face.

"You shameless nobody. I'm the one he loves. Be smart, take his money, and disappear. I never want to see your pathetic face again."

My cheek flared with pain. No one in my life had ever dared to treat me this way. Without a second thought, I slapped her back.

She froze, clutching her cheek, then shrieked, "You hit me!"

Delilah raised her hand to strike me again, but I shoved her. Teetering on five-inch heels, she stumbled back a few steps before losing her balance and collapsing to the ground.

She pointed at me, her face contorted with fury, and screamed at her bodyguards, "Hit her! Beat her!"

As the bodyguards advanced menacingly, I shouted, "We haven't broken up yet. You lay one hand on me, and you'll see what he does to you."

The bodyguards hesitated.

Just then, Clark came running over, his face etched with concern as he rushed to help Delilah up.

"Delilah, are you hurt?"

Delilah bit her lip, holding up hands that were scraped and bleeding from the gravel.

His face darkened instantly, his sharp gaze locking onto me.

I opened my mouth to explain, but before a word could escape, his hand swung through the air and connected hard with my cheek.

Smack!

This slap was far harder than Delilah's. I instantly tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

"They may not dare to touch you," Clark roared, "but I will!"