Chloe sobbed uncontrollably as she had to leave behind her million-dollar Hermes bag collection. Eleanor looked haggard, aging a decade overnight, her hands trembling as she carried two suitcases of old clothes, muttering meaningless curses. And Julian? He wore a crumpled trench coat, his face devoid of life, his eyes still unable to accept reality. He tried calling his close friends—the tycoons who used to throw money out the window with him at casinos in Macau or Las Vegas.
“Hello, Richard? It’s me, Julian. The news is just a misunderstanding, I need a temporary loan…” Beep… beep… beep.
He called his mistress, the hot model who just yesterday had whined for him to buy her a penthouse. “The number you have dialed is currently unreachable.”
High society is a cruel banquet; when you run out of money, you are no longer a guest, you are the scraps swept away.
The exquisitely wrought iron gates of the mansion slammed shut behind the three of them. A light rain was falling. There was no Rolls-Royce waiting. The Sterling family—who just last night sat at the pinnacle of looking down on others—now trudged silently in the rain to find a taxi stand, carrying the weight of massive personal debts that V.Corp had no obligation to pay.
Six months passed, and the landscape had completely changed.
The city hosted the biggest charity gala of the decade at the Waldorf Astoria. It was an event gathering the most powerful minds, the true elite billionaires. The focal point of tonight wasn’t the fading old-money families, but the first public appearance of the Chairwoman of V.Corp—the mysterious woman who had reshaped the regional economy.
Inside the ballroom, flooded with crystal chandelier light and the scent of lilies, all eyes were drawn to the grand staircase.
Valerie appeared. Gone were the conservative clothes and the submissive demeanor of an inferior daughter-in-law. She wore a backless jade-green silk gown, a design that accentuated her flawless curves and overwhelming aura. Her hair was swept up, adorned with a diamond hairpin worth a fortune. Surrounding her were an entourage of CEOs, politicians, and the most outstanding elites. She smiled, a radiant, sharp, and liberated smile.
At the same time, by the side entrance for service staff, Julian was struggling with the tight bowtie of his waiter’s uniform.
After having all his assets confiscated, Julian bore the burden of gambling debts he had previously hidden using Valerie’s money. Hunted by loan sharks, lacking any real degrees or skills (because his credentials were all bought with money), he had to do all sorts of manual labor to make ends meet and support his sick mother and a sister who knew nothing but how to complain. Tonight, he took the night shift as a waiter because the pay was triple the usual rate.
As he carried a tray of champagne through the VIP section, Julian froze dead in his tracks.
He saw her. His ex-wife. The woman he had thrown a plate at, cursed as a parasite, and ordered out of the house. Now, she was standing at the center of the universe, so radiant and untouchable that he hardly dared to breathe. Standing next to her was Alexander Vance, heir to the prestigious Vance family of England, looking at her with an intoxicated, admiring gaze.
A wave of regret, humiliation, and desperate longing surged in Julian’s chest. He lost his mind. He forgot his current status. Slamming the champagne tray down on a table, he barged through the thin line of security guards, heading straight for Valerie.
“Valerie!” He called her name, his voice hoarse, pathetic.
The crowd stood stunned. Alexander Vance frowned, about to step forward to shield her, but Valerie gently raised a hand to stop him. She turned, her calm eyes fixing on the haggard, emaciated, and cheapened image of her ex-husband.
“Who is he?” a lady whispered. “I think that’s the ruined Sterling boy. Looks absolutely pathetic.”
Julian swallowed hard, his hands clenched tight. “Valerie… please. Please give me a chance to talk. My mother is very ill. Chloe is washing dishes at a rundown diner. I know I was wrong. I was a bastard. But please, for the five years we were married… please save my family. I don’t need money, I just need you to give me a way out.”
He degraded himself, even dropping to one knee before her, amidst hundreds of judging eyes from high society. He was gambling on her pity. He knew Valerie used to be soft-hearted.
But Julian didn’t understand that her soft heart had died the night that plate shattered on the marble floor.
Popular Posts
→- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
Recently Viewed
Stories you read recently will appear here.
