My Ex Tried Destroying Me Before Learning I’m Rich

Snow fell softly against the glass of the penthouse on Christmas Eve.

Before I knocked, my fingers went to the cool stone at my throat. It was a sapphire and diamond pendant. The last thing my mother gave me before she died.

For eight months, I had hidden who I really was. To the world, I was just an ordinary assistant at Chapman Industries, making coffee and filing paperwork. Dylan Chapman didn't know I was Garrett Ellis’s daughter, the sole heiress to Ellis Corporation. I wanted to see the man behind the suit. I wanted to know if he could love me for me, not my family's billions. During those months, I secretly funneled deals to keep his struggling firm alive. And I fell for him. Hard.

The door swung open. Dylan stood there in a crisp white shirt, smiling warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Serenity," he whispered.

He pulled me into his arms. The scent of sandalwood wrapped around me. Candles flickered across the living room. Jazz played softly. He poured two glasses of champagne, handed me one, and kissed my temple.

"Tonight is about us," he said gently. "Just you and me."

My chest felt light with joy. I thought this was it. I thought tonight he was finally going to choose me.

We moved to the bedroom. His touch was tender, more attentive than ever before. When he held me close in the dark, I felt completely safe.

Then, the bedroom door clicked open.

The warm air vanished in a second. A sharp cloud of heavy jasmine perfume filled the room.

I sat up, pulling the duvet over my bare chest.

Etta Vasquez walked inside. She wore a tight red dress and four-inch heels. Her lips curled into a nasty smirk. In her manicured hand, she held a thick manila envelope.

I looked at Dylan. "Dylan? What is she doing here?"

Dylan sat on the edge of the bed. The warmth in his eyes was gone. His face had turned to ice.

"Get on your knees, Serenity," he said. His voice was flat. Cold.

My heart dropped. "What?"

"You heard me," Dylan snapped, standing up. "Kneel. Beg for my forgiveness."

Etta chuckled, stepping up to the bed. With a flick of her wrist, she dumped the contents of the envelope across the white sheets.

Dozens of glossy photographs scattered over my legs.

I looked down. My breath caught. They were pictures of me walking into luxury hotels with older men. Some were taken from behind, others clearly edited. Beside the photos were fake receipts for thousands of dollars.

"Look at yourself," Dylan sneered. "A filthy, cheating gold-digger. You thought you could screw around behind my back and still play the sweet little girlfriend?"

"This isn't real!" My voice shook. "Dylan, look at me! I've never touched another man. Someone fabricated this!"

Etta crossed her arms. "Save the tears, sweetie. The camera doesn't lie."

Panic gripped my throat. I couldn't understand how this was happening. "Dylan, please. I don't need anyone's money! I'm Garrett Ellis's daughter! I'm the one who saved Chapman Industries!"

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Then, Dylan threw his head back and laughed. It was an ugly, mocking sound. Etta joined in, her high-pitched giggles cutting through the air. Two large bodyguards stepped into the doorway, grinning.

"Garrett Ellis?" Dylan laughed until his face turned red. "The billionaire? You? A pathetic little nobody who makes my coffee?"

"It's the truth!" I cried.

"You're not just a whore," Dylan spat, his eyes dark with cruelty. "You're delusional."

Before I could move, he grabbed the corner of the duvet and yanked it violently off the bed.

Cold air hit my skin. I was completely naked.

I gasped, curling into a ball and crossing my arms over my chest. "Dylan, no! Stop!"

Dylan didn't stop. He pulled his smartphone from his pocket, opened an app, and tapped the screen. The front camera flashed on.

"Hey everyone," Dylan spoke directly into the lens with a bright, performative smile. "Merry Christmas Eve. Tonight, I'm doing a special live broadcast. Let me show you what happens to a lying gold-digger who tries to trap a Chapman."

He pointed the camera straight down at my bare, trembling body.

"Stop it!" I screamed, tears blinding me. "Turn it off!"

"Teach her a lesson for lying," Dylan ordered without looking away from his screen.

The two guards moved in instantly. One grabbed me by my hair, yanking me off the bed. I hit the hard marble floor with a sickening thud. A heavy leather boot slammed into my ribs.

Pain exploded through my side. The air rushed out of my lungs. I tasted iron in my mouth.

"Dylan, please!" I sobbed, curling on the freezing tile. Another kick landed against my back.

Etta walked over and crouched beside me. Her eyes locked onto my throat.

"This is pretty," she murmured.

She gripped the sapphire pendant and yanked. The delicate gold chain snapped against my skin.

"No!" I choked out, reaching for it with bloody fingers. "Not that... please, it's my mother's..."

Etta slipped it into her pocket, smiling. She had no idea that deep inside the sapphire casing, a microscopic red sensor began to pulse. The covert GPS tracker had just gone live.

Above me, Dylan held the phone high. "Look at the numbers climb," he laughed. "Ten thousand viewers already. You're famous, Serenity."

Heavy footsteps sprinted down the hallway.

"Stop it! Dylan, stop!"

A girl burst into the room. It was Alma, Dylan's younger half-sister.

Without hesitation, Alma threw herself onto the floor over my broken body. A guard's boot struck her shoulder with a dull crack. She groaned in pain, but she didn't move. She wrapped her arms tight around my head, shielding me.

"Leave her alone!" Alma shouted at her brother. "Are you insane? You're going to kill her!"

Dylan's face twisted with pure fury. He pointed a trembling finger at his sister.

"How dare you touch my property?" Dylan roared. "Get this little bastard out of my house! Beat her and throw her on the street! She's dead to this family!"

The guards grabbed Alma by her arms, dragging her off me. She kicked and screamed, taking blow after blow as they hauled her out the door into the freezing December night.

The room went quiet again, save for Dylan's voice reading live comments.

Blood pooled warm against my cheek on the white marble. My vision blurred into dark edges. My chest barely rose.

As darkness crept in, I stared at the ceiling, my heart turning completely to ice.