Falling For My Cheating Boyfriend's Uncle

Chapter 3

Word Count: 849 | Released on: Today at 18:28

elyn

e loud hum of the exhaust fan f

It was a heavy, custom-made sterling silver cufflink. The number "19" was

Boston knew my legal first name

es out of my mind, I dropped the cufflink into

ith Krystle in that VIP room, I hailed a cab and rushed straight back

nt villa, I headed straight fo

Row after row of Derik's custom Tom Ford suits, limited-edition sneakers, and d

uly belonged to me: a few sets of worn-out hospital scrubs, s

to this tiny corner of his life, thinking my

re four years of existence into a single battere

st friend, Araceli Church, a top-tier sports PR di

widened in shock. "Grace... are you planning to give

he heavy box into her trunk. "

shed my boundaries, I would only say I needed time t

bed my hands. "I fully support you! You can crash at my place for as

y alarm clock woke me up. My head throb

the walk-in closet. My eyes immediately fell on the first ra

ote with Gracelyn's neat handwriting, detailing whic

had managed my wardrobe flawlessly. Whenever I traveled for away games,

rack, a smug smile tugging

e perfect candidate for a wife. I could fool around with exciting, willing women lik

d no backbone. Even though she threw a tantrum and stormed out last night, I knew she wou

suit and walk

dy," Martha, the housekeeper, sai

the empty dining tab

breakfast every single morning unless she was on a night shift

y on her apron. "Miss Gracelyn came back la

nstantly

" I sneered, feeling a s

survive in Boston without my family's wealth? She was

glancing at my million-do

exactly

exactly twelve hours. If she doesn't text me begging to come back by 8:30 PM tonig

Chapter End

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“I endured my boyfriend Derik's terrible temper for four years just to repay a childhood debt to his wealthy family. But after a grueling twelve-hour surgery, I came home to find him in our bed with a desperate socialite model. Instead of apologizing, he sneered that she could actually help him climb the social ladder. He told me that as long as I behaved and kept handling his messy chores, I could still live there on his family's charity. The model mocked me from the pillows. "Everyone knows you're pathetic for Derik. You'll be crying and begging to come back tomorrow." Four years of walking on eggshells were replaced like cheap furniture, making my chest feel completely hollow. I realized I was nothing but a free housekeeping tool to a narcissistic loser who lived off his trust fund. But I wasn't going to cry or beg. I pulled out a bank wire receipt for exactly one hundred and sixty-seven thousand dollars and slammed it against his bare chest. "Four years of room and board, principal plus interest. We are completely even." I packed my bags and walked out into the freezing rain for good. Little did Derik know, the bleeding fugitive I would save in a dive bar later that night was his legendary, untouchable billionaire uncle.”