The Unmasked Heiress's Revenge

I stepped into my bar to start my shift. The manager hurried over to report.

"Miss, your boyfriend Mr. Fowler booked the most luxurious private room."

Shock hit me hard. Lucas was broke. How could he afford such an expensive room?

I told the manager to keep watching and pulled up the room's surveillance feed.

"Man, I heard you lost a bet and had to date a poor girl. Is it fun?"

"Don't even start. She costs me five hundred bucks a month. Just a greedy gold-digger!"

Lucas Fowler's face twisted with disgust. He turned and kissed the two women draped over his arms, his expression softening. "These are the kind of girls I like. I bought designer watches. One for each of you."

I let out a bitter laugh.

Calling me poor and a gold-digger?

This bar was my own business!

When my identity came out, I stood over a kneeling Lucas, grabbed a thick stack of cash, and slapped it across his face. "Swallow every last bill."

...

At two in the morning, keys clinked at the entrance.

Lucas stumbled in, reeking of alcohol and cheap, cloying perfume.

"Hey, babe, I'm back!" he shouted, reaching to pull me into his arms.

I stepped back, leaving his arms grasping at air.

He didn't notice my coldness. He propped himself up on the couch, half-sitting. "Met with clients today. Drank way too much. My head's killing me. But paying for this fancy place and giving you a stable future sooner? That's worth the hassle."

Nausea churned in my stomach.

His pitiful act only reminded me how I'd been a fool before.

"Babe, I'm so thirsty. Can you grab me a glass of water?"

"It's on the table. Get it yourself." Unlike before, I didn't jump to fetch it. I stayed on the couch, scrolling through my phone.

Lucas froze, his bleary, drunken eyes lifting to meet mine. "Babe, what's wrong? Come on, help me to bed. I'm wiped out."

I looked down at him. "The couch suits you just fine."

I turned, walked into the bedroom, and locked the door behind me.

Outside, Lucas mumbled in disbelief, but his drunken state soon silenced him.

The next morning, after a shower, I sat at my vanity, getting ready.

Lucas shuffled over, rubbing his hungover head. His eyes landed on the new perfume bottle on my table. "Elena, you're wasting money again?"

His brow furrowed, a stark contrast to his smug grin from the night before. "Do you know how hard I work for my money? Can't you spend less?"

I spritzed the perfume, not bothering to glance at him. "It's my money. I'll spend it how I want."

Lucas stared, stunned.

I'd always been gentle and accommodating, never challenging a word he said.

Seconds later, a knowing smile spread across his face. "Babe, what's up? Still mad about me getting drunk last night?"

He stepped closer, trying to hug me from behind.

I sidestepped, leaving him grasping at nothing, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I'll cut back on drinking. Don't be so petty."

When I didn't budge, his eyes flickered, as if a thought struck him. He pulled a dust bag from his satchel. "Oh! I get it. You're mad because you think I forgot our anniversary! I'm the perfect boyfriend! Ta-da! Look what I got you!"

He dangled a bag with a prominent logo in front of me. "Didn't you always say you loved designer bags? I went to so many stores to find this. I could only afford one burger a day to save up for it. Look, I'm losing muscle. You owe me some compensation."

Lucas flexed his arm, showing off.

I eyed the bag, finding it laughably absurd.

My own collection of authentic luxury bags lined an entire wall at home. His was clearly a top-tier knockoff.

His ability to pass off fakes with such confidence deserved an award.

When I stayed silent, Lucas assumed I was dazzled by the "expensive" gift. "You love it, don't you? Take it to work tomorrow. Your coworkers will be so jealous."

His tone carried a mocking edge as he urged me on.

I stared at him, expressionless.

I grabbed a letter opener from the table, slashed the bag several times, and tossed it into the trash.

"Lucas." I looked at the man before me with disgust. "Don't insult me with fakes."

"Elena, what are you doing!" Lucas stood frozen in place. "This was an expensive gift I bought for you!"

His face darkened. He kicked over the trash can.

In the next moment, he slapped me across the face.

I stared at the mirror, watching the handprint swell on my cheek. I was stunned.

He'd never spoken a harsh word to me, let alone hit me.

"Elena! You've lost your mind! For two months, I ate one burger a day to save up for that bag! And you ruin my effort like this? Do you even know how much that bag cost? Are you never satisfied?" Lucas's curses snapped me back to reality.

"Isn't it a fake? Can you swear before God that you bought a real one?"

My question caught him off guard. He stiffened, then puffed up with defiance. "Fine! I admit it's a fake! So what? It still cost me thousands of dollars, months of my salary. Who can tell when you carry it?"

I laughed coldly to myself.

For every holiday, even my birthday, he either claimed he was broke and couldn't afford a gift or gave me knockoff perfume or cheap clothes. I always brushed it off.

All I ever wanted was his heart.

But now I saw clearly. Someone who truly cared, even if poor, wouldn't deceive me like this.

"You're probably jealous of those whores at the bar with their designer bags, getting more and more vain." Lucas's gaze landed on the perfume bottle on my table, laced with contempt. "Elena, you're such a materialistic person. Tell me, did you steal that perfume?"

His words made me laugh with anger.

But years of good upbringing kept my last shred of restraint. "Lucas, I'm materialistic? I saw you at the bar yesterday. Where'd you get the money?"

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "You followed me?"

He put on a disappointed look. "I was with clients! For a contract! The company paid for everything! You think I wanted to go? I'm doing this for our home!"

One lie meant nothing he said could be trusted.

I smirked. "And the women on your arms, were they clients too? The two designer watches you gave out, were those client gifts?"

Lucas's face went pale in an instant.

He probably hadn't expected me to know so much. "They were the client's daughters! The watches were company gifts for clients! Elena, why is your mind so filthy? Are you questioning my loyalty to our relationship?"

His voice grew louder, his face red with anger. "I've done so much for you, and you're doubting me, spying on me! We're done!"

With a loud thud, he slammed the door and left.

His shouting was just a cover for his guilt.

I sneered and sent a few messages.

Soon, my phone buzzed.

It was my best friend Claire Anderson, who ran the world's largest private investigation business.

"Elena, the second Lucas left, he hopped into a stretch limousine and checked into the penthouse suite at a luxury hotel. I saw him change into a tailored suit and head to a wedding."

"A wedding?"

"Yeah, Anna, the heiress of the Vesterlon Group."

It was her!

When they broke up, Lucas told me her family looked down on him for being poor.

He moped around for so long, making my heart ache for him.

Now it all seemed like a joke.

"That jerk gifted a vineyard worth twenty million dollars."

I listened quietly.

Twenty million?

Lucas made a point of highlighting every penny he spent on me, even two hundred dollars.

I remembered him holding my hand, eyes full of affection, slipping a pull-tab ring onto my finger. "Babe, we can keep our wedding simple. I'll save two hundred bucks, and we'll have dinner with our parents. I can't afford a diamond ring, but my love is worth more than any diamond."

Two hundred dollars and a pull-tab ring.

If he was truly broke, that might have shown his heart.

If he had money, it was nothing but an insult.

I sent Lucas a message without hesitation. "Let's break up."

I pulled out a suitcase and started packing.

Less than thirty seconds later, his call came through.

The background was filled with lively chatter and the clink of glasses. "Elena, have you had enough of this tantrum? Over a little thing, a stupid bag, you're talking about breaking up? How childish are you? I'm warning you, my patience has limits."

Lucas's voice dripped with irritation.

He paused, as if certain I couldn't live without him, then spoke in a patronizing tone. "I'll give you three days to cool off and think clearly. Come back and beg for my forgiveness on your knees. Then, I might consider pretending nothing happened and staying with you."

I laughed, anger bubbling up.

How had I never noticed how narcissistic and arrogant Lucas was? "No need."

"Break up? Fine! You think I care about you? No looks, no wealth, nobody else would even glance at you! Plus, you're an unreasonable woman. Who could stand you? I, on the other hand, have people lining up around the globe for me!"

He roared, then hung up without waiting for my response.

A minute later, Claire sent a new message.

It was a recording.

The background noise was still chaotic, but Lucas's voice came through clearly, light with relief and dripping with malice. "Hey? Jay! Come out for drinks! Bring a crowd, it's on me! It's over! I finally dumped that jinx!"

The man on the other end cheered. "Bro, nicely done! Tomorrow, I'll introduce you to some new friends! Love is a trap. The sooner you're free, the happier you'll be."

"Absolutely! Tonight, we're popping ten-grand bottles of champagne to celebrate. Everyone's invited. No more pretending to be poor. It was so suffocating. It was all fake anyway, and I still had to coddle her, tiptoe around her. What a hassle. Golden bachelor Lucas is back! Freedom's the best!"

The last shred of warmth I held for him vanished.

Whatever sliver of genuine affection I thought we had was just part of a bet.

I was the laughable wager.

I deleted every trace of Lucas from my contacts and dialed another number. "Jefferson, send a car to pick me up."

Half an hour later, a black Bentley pulled up to the apartment building.

I dragged a small suitcase behind me, packed with just a few daily essentials.

This place, where I'd pretended to live as "home" for two years, held no pull on me.

The car glided out of the city, entering the heavily guarded hillside district.

It stopped in front of a sprawling estate.

A white-haired butler in a tuxedo, Jefferson, waited at the entrance.

He opened the car door and bowed respectfully. "Miss, welcome home."

I stepped into the familiar, opulent hall.

Crystal chandeliers cast light across the space.

I slipped off the three-dollar flats I'd worn and felt the cool, smooth marble floor under my bare feet. "Jefferson, arrange an auction. Send invitations to everyone, especially the companies we've recently partnered with. The item is a chance to become my husband."

Jefferson nodded and returned the next day with a list of participants.

I flipped through the list, feeling bored.

Picking through them was like choosing the shiniest trinket from a pile of similar goods.

Utterly dull.

"Since so many want to marry me, let them fight for it." I smiled at Jefferson. "Jefferson, make it good. Don't let me down."