Discovering Love at the End of Hate

My father's company went bankrupt, and creditors showed up at our door. They threatened to break one of his legs if we didn't pay them back within three days.

I got on my knees and begged my boyfriend, a man worth hundreds of millions, to lend me $500,000 to tide us over.

It was the first time I had ever asked him for money.

He frowned but still agreed, saying he would have his accountant transfer the money to me in the afternoon.

I stayed glued to my phone, refreshing my bank balance over and over again, waiting from morning until night.

But suddenly, he went silent. He wouldn't answer my calls or reply to my messages.

I was frantic with worry, but I tried to reassure myself. 'He probably has an emergency.'

But saving my father's leg was an urgent matter, so I had no choice but to take the jewelry my late mother left me to an auction house.

I just never expected to run into Julian Lockwood and his childhood sweetheart at the auction.

He spared no expense, buying a painting for Bianca White.

And the final price for that painting was, precisely, $500,000.

'So, he hadn't forgotten.'

'It was just that my desperation couldn't compare to the whims of the woman he truly loved.'

...

"Congratulations to Mr. Lockwood for winning the young artist Zane Sutton's 'Distant Peaks' for $500,000!"

The entire room erupted in applause as spotlights focused on the distinguished figure in the front row.

Julian Lockwood stood and personally handed the painting to Bianca White, who was seated beside him.

Bianca White beamed, her eyes curving into crescents. "Julian, thank you. I can't believe you actually bought it for me just because I mentioned in passing that I liked it!"

Julian Lockwood ruffled her hair, his tone indulgent. "As long as you like it."

A handsome, talented man and a beautiful woman—a match made in heaven.

People nearby were whispering amongst themselves, looking on with envy.

No one noticed me in the corner, dressed in a pair of faded jeans.

When I couldn't get in touch with Julian Lockwood, I had tried to comfort myself, 'He's just too busy.'

'So busy he'd forgotten I existed, forgotten that my father's leg was on the line.'

As I looked at the tenderness in Julian Lockwood's eyes, a chill seeped into my bones.

'He wasn't busy, and he hadn't forgotten.'

'He just decided that my father's leg was far less important than a passing fancy of the woman he loved.'

My heart constricted, the pain so sharp I could barely breathe.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Just then, the auctioneer's voice rang out again.

"Our next lot is a jade jewelry set named 'Dawn.' It is a posthumous work by the late, renowned jewelry designer Ms. Vivienne Thorne. The starting bid is $300,000."

"Dawn" was the only heirloom my mother left me.

She said "Dawn" represented hope—that no matter how great the darkness, the sun would always rise.

I would never have sold it unless I was absolutely desperate.

But now, I had no other choice.

My gaze traveled across the crowd and locked with Julian Lockwood's.

He clearly recognized the jewelry set. The gentle expression on his face froze, replaced by utter shock.

Bianca White followed his gaze. When she saw me, she covered her mouth in feigned surprise.

"Zella, what are you doing here? Isn't that jewelry set the heirloom your mother left you? Why are you selling it?"

In an instant, all eyes were on me.

Julian Lockwood's expression turned ice-cold. He strode towards me.

He stood before me, his tall figure looming over me, his voice laced with disappointment.

"Zella Monroe, are you that desperate for money?"