From A Humiliating Bet To The Boss He Can’t Have Chapter 18
Grant gave her only one glance.
“Aren’t you the one who looks down on people who depend on others?”
Then he walked right past her.
Sloane hurried after him, twisted an ankle in her heels, and fell in a heap at the entrance to the ballroom.
She was surrounded by people she used to know well, but not one of them reached out a hand to help her up.
Later, she switched her Instagram to private. The yachts, the jewelry, and the private parties all disappeared, and no one called her the queen of the social scene anymore. At last, she was living the ordinary life she had always despised most.
Two years later, the project I led was successfully launched.
The company promoted me, and I bought an apartment in Chicago in my own name.
On the third day after I signed the papers, Grant’s lawyer contacted mine.
He wanted to give me a property in Boston and return the cashier’s check for $28,614.37.
I responded with only one sentence.
“Reject everything and reply through formal legal channels.”
That night, an old phone lit up with a message from Grant.
[Mara, I just want to give you what should have been yours.]
I didn’t reply.
The day I got the keys to my new home, the Chicago sunlight was bright and clear.
I stepped out of the apartment building and saw the car across the street at once.
Grant was sitting inside, a gift box on his lap. He had lost a great deal of weight, and he looked at me through the car window.
Our eyes met for a second. I didn’t stop, and I didn’t walk toward him.
I tightened my grip on the keys that belonged only to me and walked straight to my own car.
This time, I wasn’t acting.
I truly did not look back.
As I opened the car door, my old phone suddenly buzzed.
It wasn’t Grant.
It was Lily.
She sent me a screenshot.
The image showed The Prenup Pool, the group chat from two years ago that had long since been disbanded.
[Mara, I kept the full records from back then.]
[Sloane’s lying again.]
[This time, I want to speak up myself.]