Betrayed Love, A Secret Heiress Rises

Betrayed Love, A Secret Heiress Rises

Dolores

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For five years, I put my life on hold to help my boyfriend, Jace, build our dream hotel. I hid my identity as the sole heiress to a culinary empire, pretending to be ordinary just to protect his fragile ego. Tonight was supposed to be the night we finally signed the papers and made it all real. But he showed up late with his junior colleague, Kathie, on his arm. For the twelfth time, he canceled everything for one of her manufactured crises, leaving me standing alone with our investors. The next day, in front of our entire office, he gifted Kathie a diamond tennis bracelet-the exact one I' d once admired, only for him to call it a waste of money. He looked at my stunned silence and had the nerve to ask, "Can't you just be happy for your colleague?" That night, he tried to make it up to me by ordering my "favorite" dish at dinner. It was a seafood stew I'm deathly allergic to, a fact he swore on our third date he'd never forget. He hadn't forgotten me; he had simply replaced my memory with hers. He thought he was trading up for a cheap diamond. He had no idea he was throwing away a kingdom. So I smashed the model of our shared dream to pieces, booked a one-way ticket home to Napa Valley, and blocked his number. It was time to show him exactly what he had lost.

Chapter 1

For five years, I put my life on hold to help my boyfriend, Jace, build our dream hotel. I hid my identity as the sole heiress to a culinary empire, pretending to be ordinary just to protect his fragile ego. Tonight was supposed to be the night we finally signed the papers and made it all real.

But he showed up late with his junior colleague, Kathie, on his arm. For the twelfth time, he canceled everything for one of her manufactured crises, leaving me standing alone with our investors.

The next day, in front of our entire office, he gifted Kathie a diamond tennis bracelet-the exact one I' d once admired, only for him to call it a waste of money.

He looked at my stunned silence and had the nerve to ask, "Can't you just be happy for your colleague?"

That night, he tried to make it up to me by ordering my "favorite" dish at dinner. It was a seafood stew I'm deathly allergic to, a fact he swore on our third date he'd never forget. He hadn't forgotten me; he had simply replaced my memory with hers.

He thought he was trading up for a cheap diamond. He had no idea he was throwing away a kingdom. So I smashed the model of our shared dream to pieces, booked a one-way ticket home to Napa Valley, and blocked his number. It was time to show him exactly what he had lost.

Chapter 1

Eveline Sawyer POV:

This was the twelfth time in five years we were supposed to sign the final papers.

The boutique hotel, our shared dream built on the bones of a forgotten Seattle warehouse, was finally ready. Tonight was meant to be a quiet celebration, just me, Jace, our two lead investors, and the crisp, legally binding documents that would turn five years of sweat and sacrifice into a tangible reality.

A dull throb started behind my right eye, the familiar precursor to a migraine. I pressed my fingers into my temple, forcing a smile for the investors, Mr. and Mrs. Gable, who were admiring the restored brickwork in the lobby. I' d spent all day on my feet, personally overseeing the catering setup, even though my sous-chef and best friend, Janel, told me I looked like a ghost.

My gaze drifted to the grand entrance, searching for Jace. He was late. Again.

He finally appeared, but he wasn' t alone. My breath hitched, the throbbing in my head intensifying into a sharp, pulsing beat. His hand was resting on the small of Kathie White' s back, guiding her through the door as if she were made of glass.

Kathie, his junior colleague. The perpetually struggling artist who just happened to wear designer shoes and carry the latest handbag. She stumbled slightly, a practiced, delicate move that had her leaning into Jace' s chest. He steadied her, his expression a mask of concern I hadn' t seen directed at me in years.

"Oh my gosh, I' m so clumsy," she whispered, her voice loud enough to carry across the polished concrete floor.

Jace just smiled down at her. He didn' t even look for me.

Across the room, Janel caught my eye and made a gagging motion. I shot her a look that was supposed to be a warning, but it felt weak, transparent. She knew. Everyone knew.

"Does he even know you' re running a fever?" Janel muttered, appearing at my side with a glass of water. "Or does he think that flush is just from the excitement?"

I didn' t answer. The Gables were looking over, their polite smiles unwavering. They knew how much this project meant to me, how I' d poured every ounce of my culinary talent into designing the hotel' s flagship restaurant, a space I was supposed to helm.

And then it happened. The same scene that had played out eleven times before.

Kathie' s face crumpled. A single, perfect tear traced a path down her cheek. "Jace," she began, her voice trembling, "I' m so sorry to do this, not tonight, but... my final model for the waterfront pitch... it' s corrupted. The file won' t open. The presentation is tomorrow morning."

Jace' s attention snapped to her, all of it. The Gables, the papers, me-we all faded into the background.

I started walking toward him, a cold dread coiling in my stomach. "Jace, the Gables are waiting."

He didn' t look at me. He was already pulling out his phone, his brow furrowed with a seriousness he used to reserve for our project.

I reached for his arm, but he flinched away almost imperceptibly. "Eve, not now."

Kathie looked at me, her eyes wide with faux apology. "I am so, so sorry, Eveline. I know how important tonight is."

Jace finally turned to me, his expression hardened with impatience. "Something' s come up with Kathie' s project. It' s a crisis. We have to go back to the office."

"No," I said, the word barely a whisper. "Jace, not again. The papers are right here."

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture I used to find endearing now a signal of his impending retreat. "We' ll reschedule. First thing next week. I promise."

His promise felt like ash in my mouth.

He put his arm around Kathie' s shoulders, a protective gesture that made my stomach churn. "Let' s go, Kath. We' ll figure it out."

He was already moving, guiding her back toward the door he' d just walked through. He didn' t look back.

Five years. Twelve canceled signings. And every single time, the reason had a name: Kathie White.

The first few times, I had screamed. I had thrown things. I had cried until I couldn' t breathe. The last time, I had simply gone numb.

But this time was different. A strange, chilling calm washed over me.

"Jace," I called out, my voice even, steady.

He paused at the door, turning back with an annoyed sigh.

I walked toward him, my heels clicking on the floor, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. I stopped a few feet away and gave him a small, tight smile.

"You' re right," I said, the words tasting like poison and freedom. "Go. Kathie' s career is fragile. She needs you."

He blinked, thrown off by my lack of resistance. "Right. Thanks for understanding, Eve." He fumbled for a moment, clearly expecting a fight. "Hey, I' ll make it up to you. I' ll pick up that cioppino you love from Rossi' s on my way home, okay?"

I just nodded, my smile feeling frozen on my face.

"Okay," I said. "Drive safe."

He gave me one last, distracted look before disappearing through the door with Kathie in tow.

The smile fell from my face the second the door clicked shut.

Cioppino from Rossi' s.

The place we' d gone on our third date, where I had gently explained to him, after he' d ordered it for the table, that I was deathly allergic to shellfish. Anaphylactic shock, hospital-visit level allergic.

He' d been mortified, grabbing a pen and a napkin to write it down. "Shellfish. Got it. I' ll never, ever forget, Eve. I promise."

That napkin was still tucked into the back of his wallet. I' d seen it just last week.

He hadn' t forgotten. He just hadn' t cared enough to remember.

The cold Seattle air outside the floor-to-ceiling windows seemed to seep into my bones, chilling me from the inside out. A single, humorless laugh escaped my lips.

I turned and walked back to the small, perfectly rendered architectural model of the hotel sitting on a display pedestal in the center of the lobby. It was a gift from Jace on our first anniversary, a symbol of the future we were building.

With a deep breath, I announced to the stunned Gables and a wide-eyed Janel, "The signing is off."

Then, I lifted the miniature hotel, our dream, our future, and I brought it crashing down onto the polished concrete floor. The sound of splintering wood and shattering plexiglass was the most satisfying thing I had ever heard.

It was time to burn it all to the ground.

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