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I Was Never Yours Novel Cover

I Was Never Yours

Raymond Ainsworth, the untouchable heir to a prestigious family, had only one vulnerability: Angelique. He worshipped her, destroying enemies at her command and holding her hand even after falling from grace to the absolute bottom. But as police sirens echo through the night, her true colors are exposed. Pulling away from his desperate grasp, Angelique leaves him devastated with a cold, heartbreaking truth: she never loved him.
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Chapter 3

At this academy, the girls fell into two categories—those who adored Raymond and those who feared him.

But someone like Angelique? That was a first.

The dull routine of school life had long bored him, yet now, for the first time in a while, something piqued his interest.

"Dressed like this, I guarantee you won’t last half a day before the other girls tear you apart."

Angelique’s grip on her backpack straps tightened. "But I-"

"Wait here. Don’t run off."

Raymond grabbed the suit jacket he had tossed aside earlier and pulled out his ID badge, throwing it into her hands.

Angelique cradled it carefully, reading out the name inscribed on it, word by word. "Ray... Raymond Ainsworth! You’re the chairman’s son?!"

Her reaction clearly amused him.

A smirk played at the corner of Raymond’s lips as he reached out and ruffled her hair. "Take this badge to the logistics office. Tell them to get you a uniform."

"No way! That’s way too much! I—I can’t afford to pay you back."

Raymond shot her a sharp glare. "You think I care about the cost of a school uniform?"

Angelique said nothing, but the way her puppy-like eyes drooped with grievance spoke volumes.

'Damn it,' he mentally cussed.

Raymond wondered if he had lost his mind. He had always preferred mature, curvaceous women, yet today—because of this tiny, scrawny thing—his mood had been fluctuating all over the place.

"If you’re really that uncomfortable with it, then let’s make a deal," he said lazily. "From now on, in this school, I’ll be your master, and you’ll be my servant. Whatever I say, you do."

Angelique’s eyes flickered with hesitation. "But..."

Raymond assumed she was unwilling, so he added, "I’ll even pay you a salary. You name the price."

"Deal!" Angelique agreed instantly.

Raymond’s lips twitched. So that hesitation just now—it was all because the money wasn’t good enough yet?!

Shaking his head, he instructed, "Once you leave the conservatory, walk straight ahead. When you see the rose garden, take a right—that’ll lead you to the academic building."

With that, he stretched out on the bench, draping his suit jacket over his face, and lazily waved her off.

As Angelique stepped out of the greenhouse, the softness in her expression vanished. The delicate, pitiful gleam in her big eyes was replaced by an icy sharpness.

She lowered her gaze, staring at the wrist Raymond had grabbed. Without a word, she pulled a pack of wet wipes from her backpack and meticulously wiped the spot clean.

"Master? Servant? How ridiculous!"

The wind whispered through the dense trees, carrying her quiet murmur into the void.

"Sis, was it really someone this foolish who got you killed?"

There was no answer.

One year ago, Angelique’s sister had died here.

They said she had fallen from the school’s rooftop late at night.

A ridiculous explanation. It was then that Angelique first understood what "nobility" truly meant—a world that devoured people whole, leaving not even bones behind.

She and her sister, Jillian, had been separated from birth. Their parents had never married, so they only discovered each other’s existence later in life. Despite being raised a thousand kilometers apart, they had grown incredibly close.

She still remembered the day her sister had called, excited beyond words.

"I got in! As long as I meet the academic requirements, the scholarship will cover everything—even tuition at the world’s top universities! I’m going to make a name for myself in the future!"

Yet, not even two months after enrolling, she died.

Angelique never believed their so-called "accident" explanation. And when she read through her sister’s journal, everything became clear.

At the heart of it all was a name—Raymond. He was the heir to the Ainsworth Holdings, the man who held the country’s economy in the palm of his hand.

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