Inheriting My Billion-Dollar Family Empire After My Boyfriend's Affair

Less than half an hour later, Charles' assistant Venkat rushed in.

"Vicky, Charles would like to borrow the bag he gave you before. He has an urgent need for it."

It hit me instantly-Charles must be short on funds and wants to use the bag as collateral.

I gathered all the gifts he had given me over the past three years and packed them into boxes.

"These are all from him. Take them all."

As night fell, Charles hurried in, his face anxious and flustered.

"Vicky, why are you returning all the gifts?"

I bit back the pain, staring at the coffee in front of me with no expression.

When he leaned over, I casually closed the message I had sent to others about the investment plan for his company.

He softened his tone.

"Vicky, I was really tied up in an important meeting. Don't be upset, okay?"

"Tomorrow, I'll take the day off and spend it with you. Is that alright?"

The "important meeting" was just him helping Tracy prepare for her wedding.

I didn't call him out on his lies.

Maybe he truly felt sorry. The next morning, he personally woke up early and made me breakfast, carefully preparing all my favorite dishes "I hope this makes your day better."

In the past, such gestures would have melted me, but now, I just ate in silence.

"Vicky, you're not acting right. Did someone say something to you?"

"What are you worried about? Is there something you're hiding from me?"

He gripped my hand tightly, sighing, "Vicky, you're the only one in my heart. Don't you understand my feelings for you? I really needed to borrow the bag yesterday. If it upset you, I'll buy you new ones..."

Before we could leave, his friend Dierk called him to a high-end club.

Of course, to reassure me, he brought me along.

As soon as the private room door opened, a heavy scent of perfume hit me. There, standing with a bright smile, was the well-dressed Tracy Davis.

Charles immediately let go of my hand, cleared his throat awkwardly, and shot a glare at Dierk, who was giving him suggestive looks.

"Charles, who's this?"

"Uh, this is Victoria Winston," he said, then turned to me, "This is Tracy Davis, the daughter of the Davis Group. Take good care of her."

Just those few words made my position clear. The sting of past love cut deep, my heart torn to shreds.