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He Played Poor To Chase Her, I Made Him Poor for Real Novel Cover

He Played Poor To Chase Her, I Made Him Poor for Real

After ten years of marriage, Adrian Vance begins a cruel game of pretending to be impoverished. His obsession with this charade leads to devastating consequences when he refuses to reveal his true identity as a hospital president to save his own dying daughter. Realizing he has abandoned his family for a twisted fantasy, his wife decides to leave him. This billionaire romance novel follows her journey as she stops playing along and ensures his manufactured poverty becomes a permanent reality.
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Chapter 4

I packed up everything in the house and moved out.

I signed up for the Doctors Without Borders entrance exam and spent a week burying myself in clinical drills, drowning the pain in work.

Adrian never called.

At one point he sent a single text: "Vivi, I know I've wronged you. But meeting Chloe taught me what real love is. You stopped being the girl I loved a long time ago. All that's left between us is obligation. Let's divorce. I won't fight you for the house or the car. I just want to start clean with Chloe. Stop using Annie to corner me."

I held the phone and laughed without warmth. He said he wouldn't fight me for these things, but they were never his to fight for.

After the exam, my lawyer and I drew up the divorce papers.

And right then, word came that Adrian was back at the hospital.

I walked into the director's office and set the yellowed envelope down in front of him.

He started, opened his mouth, but I spoke first. "Adrian. Remember this?"

He opened the envelope. The instant he saw the prenup, the color drained from his face.

I turned the pages for him one by one and read aloud, calm. "Party A, Adrian Vance, vows to remain faithful to Party B, Vivienne Lowell, for life. Should Party A commit any betrayal, including but not limited to emotional infidelity, physical infidelity, or transfer of affection, Party A will voluntarily forfeit all marital assets and any pre-marital assets pledged to Party B, claim no alimony or compensation of any kind, and depart with only the clothing on his person. This agreement is notarized and legally binding."

I finished and looked up. "When you knelt in front of me and said that, did you mean it?"

His lips trembled. "Vivi, that was ten years ago. We were so young. That agreement isn't even reasonable—"

I cut in. "Adrian, let me be clear. You had the nerve to make that vow. Now have the nerve to honor it."

I paused. "Didn't you say you'd walk out with nothing for true love? Didn't you say you'd give up everything for Chloe? So live by the rule you set yourself. Isn't this exactly what you wanted?"

He struggled with it for a few seconds, then shut his eyes and signed. He signed with a grave, formal expression, like he was completing something sacred, and the sight of it struck me as absurd. He was signing the cost of betraying me, and he wore the face of a man dying for love.

When it was done, he stood. "Thank you for letting me go, Vivi. Chloe and I will be happy. I won't waste this clean start."

I held his eyes. "Has it occurred to you that the 'clean, striving Chloe' you love might not exist at all?"

He looked at me like he didn't recognize me. "When did you become this person? You used to be so kind. You never assumed the worst of anyone. Now you're a stranger to me."

As he spoke, Chloe came in, eyes red, looking for the director.

She flew into his arms, crying. "Adrian, I don't want you to divorce. I don't want you to give up everything for me."

She cried beautifully, the kind of tears built to be watched. But from where I stood, I could see her lowered lashes, and her eyes flicking fast across the asset agreement on the desk. When they landed on the figures, three villas abroad, shares worth nearly $860 million, offshore accounts around $320 million, her lashes trembled, and she cried harder.

Adrian trembled as he comforted her. "Don't cry, Chloe. I told you, you're the only one I'll ever throw everything away for."

Buried in his chest, the moment he turned to look at me, Chloe flicked her eyes up at me, curved her mouth by a hair, and dove back down to keep crying. The taunt lasted an instant. He saw none of it.

I spoke suddenly. "Adrian. Did you ever ask Chloe whether she knows who you really—"

He frowned. "Of course she doesn't. I told you, she hates anything fake—"

I talked over him, straight to her. "Dr. Bennett. Do you know Adrian's real identity?"

The office went dead silent.

Through tears, Chloe said, "What are you talking about? Adrian's just an assistant, isn't he? Adrian, has she gotten the wrong idea?"

He wiped her tears, heartsick. "Don't listen to her nonsense, Chloe."

I smiled. I didn't press it. I just gathered the divorce papers and the old prenup, calm, and put them in my bag. I looked at Adrian. "Ten years ago you knelt in front of me and made that vow. Today I'm letting you keep it. But I want to tell you one thing—"

"By the way, I went looking for Annie today and couldn't find her. Did you—"

He started to say something more, but Chloe turned to leave, and he hurried after her.

At the door he looked back at me. I saw his lips move, like he meant to say something, and then nothing came. He held my eyes for one second, and went after Chloe anyway.

I watched the shape of him disappear out the door, and set the cake I'd bought on his desk.

Then I picked up a pen and, on the blank space at the end of his walk-away-with-nothing agreement, wrote one slow line at a time: "The $860 million you gave up today for 'true love' is the entire reason she loves you. And the day you were willing to make this vow for me was the cleanest you ever were. That version of you, and the me you say has 'changed,' were each other's true love."

When everything was in order, I tucked my own copy of the divorce papers away and took a cab to the airport.

I looked back at the city one last time, then boarded the plane to report for Doctors Without Borders.

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