Dumped My Fake-Poor Ex, Married My Wealthy Boss

For six years, I worked myself to the bone to support my "struggling artist" boyfriend, Kasen. I paid the rent on our leaky Brooklyn apartment and believed in his dream, thinking our love was real.

That all ended one rainy night when I delivered documents to an exclusive club and overheard him with his wealthy friends. Our life, he said, was just a "sociological experiment."

He wasn't poor at all. He was a trust fund heir with a fiancée in the Hamptons, waiting to close a corporate merger.

"Kaia is just a naive pet who voluntarily pays my rent," he laughed over a three-thousand-dollar glass of scotch.

He told them girls like me were so desperate we'd come crawling back for a scrap of affection. My entire world shattered.

I packed my bags and walked out that night with eighty-four dollars to my name, ready to start over. But escaping one monster only threw me to another. The next day, a predatory client tried to drug me during a business meeting.

My boss, the terrifyingly powerful CEO Camden William, intervened. But after a night of drug-induced chaos, I woke up in his bed.

He didn't offer an apology. He offered a contract. "Marry me for three years," he commanded, "and I'll give you five million dollars and make sure Kasen can never touch you again."