The Heir Who Chose Poverty

My fiancé, Jacob, crashed another woman' s wedding. I found out from a viral video while preparing his favorite dessert to celebrate our upcoming IVF cycle.

It was Kierra Gates, the "struggling artist" he always claimed to pity. This wasn't the first time. Three years ago, he beat a man bloody for her, a public scandal that nearly broke us.

I stood by him then, swallowing the humiliation and my friends' warnings. I even forgave him for the miscarriage his violent outburst caused. He swore it was over, that our future, our family, was all that mattered.

But as I watched the video of him snatching her from the altar, his promises echoed like a cruel joke. He' d abandoned me again, on the cusp of our dream, for the same woman.

My love for him, a fifteen-year constant, finally ran dry. This wasn't just another betrayal; it was the end.

I picked up the phone, my hand steady. "I'd like to cancel my IVF appointment," I told the clinic. "And schedule an abortion. As soon as possible."

Chapter 1

Audra Walker POV:

The smell of burnt sugar filled the kitchen, but it wasn't the worst thing burning that day. My phone buzzed, then vibrated again, an insistent, desperate rhythm against the pristine marble countertop. I was stirring the delicate crème brûlée, preparing Jacob' s favorite dessert to celebrate our upcoming IVF cycle. A special meal for a special occasion.

The first message was from Sarah, a screenshot of a viral video. "Audra, you've seen this, right? Is this... Jacob?"

Before I could even open it, another ten messages flooded in. My phone screen exploded with notifications, each one a sharp jab to my calm Sunday afternoon. There were links to news articles, screenshots of comments, and a flurry of "Are you okay?" messages from friends. They all pointed to the same thing.

I tapped the video link, my heart a dull thud against my ribs. The grainy footage showed a church, a wedding. And then, Jacob. My fiancé, Jacob Daniel, a man I' d loved for over a decade, storming down the aisle like a madman, snatching a woman mid-vows. Kierra Gates. The struggling artist he always claimed to "pity." The woman whose wedding he just crashed.

The comments underneath scrolled endlessly. "Isn't that Jacob Daniel, the tech guru? What's he doing?" "Oh my god, it's Kierra Gates! Didn't he do something similar for her before?" "This is giving me déjà vu. Three years ago, he literally beat up a guy for her."

Three years. The number echoed in my head, cold and precise. Three years ago, Jacob, the rising star of the tech world, became infamous overnight. Not for his innovations, but for a public brawl. He' d assaulted a man, violently, in front of a gallery opening, all because someone had allegedly insulted Kierra' s art. It was a spectacle, broadcast on every news channel, dissected on every social media platform. My Jacob. My polished, charming Jacob, reduced to a primal, raging beast for her.

I remembered the headlines: "Tech CEO's Violent Outburst for Artist Muse." The public had been divided. Some called him a hero, a passionate protector. Others called him unhinged. I just called him mine.