Framed as a Gold Digger, I Destroyed My Fiancé's Empire

"All you need to do is sign these agreements," Oliver said with a smug smile, tapping the papers. "And make sure the richest man gives the Jefferson family's business a little support every year. I swear, I'll do my best to cover for you and your father."

I was shocked because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Oliver really thought he could turn me into some pawn in his backroom deal, like I was a contract he could sign off and cash in on.

And to think, if it weren't for the whole $500,000 mess, I might've actually fallen for his polished act. That suit, that voice, and the smile he flashed at board meetings used to fool me.

Without waiting for my response, Oliver hastily scribbled a few last-minute conditions onto the prenup and pushed the folder toward me.

"Therese, sign it."

Before I could say a word, Kiara panicked.

"Sir, how can someone like her be worthy of being your wife? Even if she does know the richest man, there's no way someone that rich would be eating those bargain-bin group meals!"

She kept going, maligning me, "If you ask me, she's just name-dropping to scare you! Trying to bait you into marrying her. You can't fall for that!"

Oliver looked rattled for a moment, clearly thrown off. Then he let out a long, theatrical sigh and adopted that fake helpless tone I was all too familiar with.

"Kiara, whether Therese is a gold-digger or not, once she signs, she can't back out. Not after we're married. And don't forget, if I don't marry her, my dad won't hand over the Jefferson shares."

And there it was.

This entire engagement? It had nothing to do with me.

I was just a shortcut and a stepping stone to the power Oliver was aiming for. Marrying me was part of his corporate climb, nothing more.

And Kiara? The way she was suddenly clawing to stop it told me everything I needed to know.

She had something to hide.

Her appearance, the brands she wore, and the smug confidence radiating from her suggested she wasn't living on an assistant's salary. I was ready to bet my broken vase that she had access to another card—Oliver's second supplementary card.

It had to be Kiara who'd racked up those charges.

With that in mind, I picked up the agreement and stared Oliver down, my voice cool and composed.

"I'll sign. But only after we clear up the $500,000 charge."

By that point, Atty. Doyle had taken in the whole room.

He had been observing the antique shelves, the understated luxury of the décor, and how everything exuded wealth from the past.

I could sense a shift in his attitude; he was no longer smug or detached, but now exhibited quiet respect, perhaps even a hint of fear.

Atty. Doyle was probably starting to believe who I truly was.

Good. I wanted him to be the one to lay it out.

Let the facts humiliate Oliver.

And so, I turned to him and he hurriedly said, "Oliver, you hired me today to verify the transaction records. That's all I'm here to do and nothing else."

Oliver hesitated but gave a stiff nod.

"Go ahead and compare everything."

Right after, Atty. Doyle began reviewing the card history while the bodyguards wandered around the house, trying to match listed purchases to anything they could find.

Sure enough, they found two matches.

Doyle's face twitched.

Meanwhile, Kiara looked completely radiant with smugness, appearing utterly triumphant.

Then, I turned to Oliver and asked, "How many supplementary cards do you have?"

He firmly replied, "Just the one I gave you."

But Kiara couldn't keep the panic out of her eyes. Her gaze flicked to the side before she caught herself, but it was too late.

I didn't wait.

I lunged, grabbed her handbag off the table, and dumped it right out on the floor in front of everyone.

And there it was.

A card. Identical to mine.

Kiara's entire face collapsed. She lunged forward to grab it, but I struck her sharply across the face and took the card away myself.

Right away, I turned and handed it straight to Atty. Doyle.

"Check this card thoroughly, Attorney," I told him. "I'm sure things are about to get real clear, real fast."

Then, I looked him straight in the eye, reminding him, "If you stay professional and do the right thing today, I guarantee your career's gonna go a long way."