After My Fiancé Abandoned Me, His Billionaire Rival Saved Me

The flight from Aspen to New York was a blur. I didn't shed a single tear. When I landed, I didn't go straight home. I took a cab to an upscale Manhattan lounge. I needed loud music. I needed to wash the freezing cold of that Colorado standard room off my skin.

The lounge was dark and crowded. The air smelled of expensive gin and melted wax. I sat at the marble bar and ordered a dirty martini. The icy liquid burned my throat, but it felt amazing. It felt like freedom.

I looked down at my hands. They were finally warm.

Then, I saw him.

He was sitting two stools away. He was young. Maybe a few years younger than me. And he was devastatingly handsome. He wore a crisp, tailored black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. His jawline could cut glass. But it was his eyes that caught me. Dark, intense, and fixed entirely on me.

He wasn't looking at his phone. He wasn't looking around the room. He was just watching me. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

Seven years of being invisible to Andrew. Seven years of being pushed aside for Skyla. And now, this gorgeous stranger was looking at me like I was the only person in the room.

I didn't think. I just moved. I slid off my stool. The heavy bass of the music vibrated up my legs. I walked right up to him. He smelled like cedar wood and expensive spice.

"Hi," I breathed.

"Hello," he replied. His voice was a low, smooth rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm Sterling."

I didn't give him my name. I just reached out. My fingers curled into his collar. I pulled him down and kissed him.

It was reckless. But I didn't care. His lips were incredibly warm. For a second, he froze. His body went completely rigid from the shock. Then, his large hands clamped onto my waist. He pulled me flush against his hard chest. He kissed me back with a fierce, consuming heat. He groaned softly, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let me go. It erased everything. It erased Aspen. It erased Andrew.

Sunlight stabbed my eyes. I blinked and groaned. My head pounded from the martinis. I was tangled in heavy silk sheets. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the bright New York skyline. This was a penthouse.

A harsh buzzing sound drilled into my ears. My phone. It was vibrating violently on the glass nightstand.

"It's been doing that for an hour," a voice murmured.

I turned my head. Sterling was sitting up beside me. He was shirtless. His chest was tanned and heavily muscled. He looked perfectly relaxed, sipping a cup of black coffee.

I squinted at my screen. *Andrew - 50 Missed Calls.*

My stomach tightened on instinct. But before I could reach for the phone, Sterling picked it up. His dark eyes flashed with amusement. He swiped the screen to answer.

"Hello?" Sterling said. His voice was thick with morning gravel.

Andrew's frantic voice blasted through the speaker. "Who the hell is this? Where is Charlotte? Put her on the phone right now! Char, are you there?"

Sterling took a slow sip of his coffee. He didn't look intimidated at all. He looked utterly dominant.

"She’s a little tied up right now," Sterling said smoothly. He leaned back against the headboard, a mocking smirk on his face. "And from the looks of it, she’s moved on. Stop calling."

"What? Who are you? Listen to me, you piece of—"

Sterling ended the call. He tossed the phone onto the mattress. He looked down at me, his eyes softening instantly. "Morning," he whispered, brushing a stray hair from my cheek.

An hour later, I left the penthouse. My body hummed with a strange, electric energy. I took a cab straight to Brooklyn to pack up my life.

The apartment I shared with Andrew was dead quiet. It felt sterile and cold. There were no pets. No bright colors. Just his boring, minimalist furniture. It never really felt like my home.

I dragged my remaining suitcases from the closet. I packed fast and ruthless. I threw my clothes, my books, and my shoes into the bags. I didn't bother folding anything. My phone kept lighting up with Andrew's texts.

*Char, please. Let's talk.*

*That guy on the phone is a joke, right? You're just mad about Aspen.*

*I'm sorry, okay? Skyla had a panic attack. You know how she gets.*

I rolled my eyes. The exact same script. It didn't work anymore. I felt absolutely nothing for him.

Before I left, I stopped at the kitchen island. On my cab ride over, I had stopped at a bakery and bought a small pecan pie. I set the box on the counter and opened it. The glazed nuts gleamed under the lights.

I looked down at my left hand. The diamond engagement ring felt like a shackle. I pulled it off my finger. It slid off easily.

I placed the silver ring right next to the pecan pie. A perfect pair. He loved pecan. He never cared that a single bite could send me to the hospital.

I picked up my phone. I opened Andrew's contact and pressed *Block*.

I grabbed my bags and walked out the door. The lock clicked shut behind me. I didn't look back once.