The Ruined Heiress Makes A Comeback

I attended a high-stakes tech gala in a rented designer gown, desperate to secure a marketing contract to save myself from bankruptcy.

But the new billionaire CEO turned out to be Carlisle, the penniless ex-boyfriend I had brutally dumped four years ago.

He still thought I left him because he was poor, completely unaware I did it to protect him from my family's sudden ruin.

Terrified of his revenge, I stayed up all night writing a business pitch. But my old laptop froze, and I accidentally emailed him my secret, highly explicit NSFW fan-fiction about him instead.

He summoned me to his penthouse and accused me of prostituting myself for the contract. When I slipped and fell into his indoor pool, he violently shoved me away.

"Save your cheap tricks. My bed isn't for women like you."

Soon after, I received a formal sexual harassment warning from HR. He threatened to publicly bankrupt and blacklist me if I didn't present a flawless pitch at the executive dinner.

I was crushed by the absolute humiliation. I packed my bags, ready to resign and run away just like I did four years ago.

But then he sent one last email, mocking me.

"Lumina doesn't need a coward who only knows how to pawn bags and run."

That insult set my blood on fire. I wasn't a coward.

I deleted my resignation, brewed black coffee, and started typing. Tomorrow night, I was going to shove the most brilliant marketing pitch straight down his arrogant throat.