The Lost Heiress He Betrayed

I rubbed my aching neck, desperate to reach my cramped bedroom.

A hand clamped around my wrist. Hard.

"Don't scream," Jasper muttered.

He yanked me toward the half-open door of his guest suite.

"Get your hands off me," I hissed, digging my sneakers into the thin carpet.

"Just five minutes, Iris. Come inside."

I wrenched my arm backward, twisting my shoulder to break his grip. He stumbled forward, clearly surprised by my resistance.

"Are you insane?" I kept my voice to a sharp, furious whisper. "Your fiancée is sleeping directly above us."

Jasper adjusted the collar of his silk pajamas. "Celeste took a sleeping pill. She won't wake up until noon tomorrow."

"I don't care if she's in a coma. Stay away from me."

He stepped closer, backing me against the patterned wallpaper. "You don't mean that. You've been staring at me all week."

"I've been serving you dinner. It's my job."

"You used to look at me differently."

"That was before you sold yourself to a millionaire."

His facial muscles tensed. "Watch your mouth."

"Or what? You'll complain to the head maid?"

He lunged again, pinning my shoulder against the plaster. "I could make your life very easy here, Iris. Or I could make it a living hell. You know I still want you. You know I can take care of you."

"You're Celeste's lapdog now. Act like it."

"I'm the future master of this house!"

"Then why are you sneaking around the maid's quarters in the middle of the night?"

I shoved his chest. He didn't budge.

"Because you belong to me," he growled. "You always have."

"I belong to myself."

"Three years, Iris. We were together for three years." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a manipulative purr. "You think I forgot about our apartment? You think I forgot about us?"

"You forgot about us the second you saw the White family bank account."

"I did it for us! I can give you money now. I can buy you things."

"You're delusional." I scoffed, turning my face away from him. "You traded a three-year relationship for sports cars and designer suits. You didn't do it for me. You did it because you're greedy."

"I did it because I was tired of eating instant noodles on a mattress on the floor!" he snapped. "Look at this place. Look at what I have."

"Look at what *she* has," I corrected him. "You own nothing, Jasper. You're just a guest."

His eyes narrowed. "If you hate it so much, why are you still here? Why don't you quit?"

"Because your fiancée made sure I was blacklisted from every decent domestic agency in the city." I glared at him. "This is the only contract I could get to pay off my mother's medical bills."

"See?" He smiled, a sickeningly triumphant look. "You need me. I can make those bills disappear tonight."

"I need a paycheck. I don't need a parasite."

"Celeste pays you pennies to scrub her floors. I can slip you thousands. Just come inside the room."

"I'd rather starve."

"Don't play hard to get. It doesn't suit you."

A floorboard creaked on the staircase above us.

We both froze.

The heavy silence of the mansion pressed down on the hallway. Footsteps echoed from the second-floor landing. Slow. Heavy.

Jasper's grip on my arm tightened. Panic flashed across his face.

"Get in the room," he urged, pulling me toward the doorway again. "If the security guard catches us out here, he'll report it."

"Let him report it," I whispered back, resisting his pull.

"Iris, stop being stubborn! If Celeste finds out we were talking, she'll fire you."

"She won't just fire me. She'll dump you. That's what you're really afraid of."

The footsteps paused. Then, they began moving away, fading down the upper corridor.

Jasper let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping.

I used his distraction to rip my arm free.

"I'm not your secret," I said, stepping out of his reach. "And I'm not your backup plan."

He rubbed his jaw, his expression darkening. "You think you're so morally superior. You're scrubbing toilets for a living. I'm about to inherit an empire."

"You're marrying a fake heiress."

"Keep your voice down," he warned, glancing nervously at the ceiling.

"No. If you don't step back right now, I am walking up that grand staircase." I met his gaze, keeping my expression entirely flat. "I will knock on the master suite doors. I will wake Celeste up, and I will tell her exactly whose room you tried to drag me into."

Fear flared in his eyes again.

Celeste White was famously possessive. She treated Jasper like a prized show pony. She destroyed anyone who touched her toys, but she would also discard him the second he proved disloyal.

"You wouldn't dare," he countered.

"Try me. Grab my arm one more time and see how fast I run upstairs."

He stared at me, searching for a bluff. I gave him nothing.

Slowly, his fingers curled into fists at his sides.

"You think she'll believe you?" he asked, trying to regain his footing. "You're just a bitter ex-girlfriend. She knows you're jealous."

"She knows you're a cheat. That's why she tracks your phone."

He flinched. I had hit the mark.

"You're making a massive mistake," he spat, his tone turning venomous.

"Goodnight, Jasper."

"Don't think this is over." He pointed a finger at my chest. "You're going to beg me for help before the week is out. I'll make sure of it."

"Go to sleep."

He turned and slammed his door shut. The heavy oak frame rattled on its hinges.

I slumped against the wall, rubbing the red marks on my skin.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The confrontation was over, but the danger wasn't.

Jasper was a coward, but a vindictive one. He wouldn't let this go. He needed to feel powerful, and right now, I had made him feel weak. Retaliation was coming.

I pushed off the wall and hurried down the corridor to my room.

The space was barely larger than a closet. A single twin bed, a small dresser, and a window that looked out onto the brick wall of the garage.

I locked the flimsy door behind me and sank onto the mattress.

Three years.

I stared at the ceiling, letting the reality of my situation wash over me. We had built a life together. We had planned a future. Then he met Celeste at a charity gala I couldn't afford to attend. Within a month, he packed his bags.

And Celeste? She knew exactly who I was when she hired me.

The fake heiress didn't just want my boyfriend; she wanted to watch me suffer. She had specifically requested the agency send Iris Thorne to wash her laundry and clean her toilets. She wanted to parade my betrayal in front of my face every single day.

They were a match made in hell.

"Just survive the month," I whispered to the empty room. "Get the paycheck and leave."

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I glanced at the digital clock. 2:15 AM.

No one texted me at this hour.

I reached over and picked up the device.

A message from an unknown number glared back at me from the bright screen.

*Your little stunt in the hallway was caught on camera. Come to the greenhouse in ten minutes, or I send the footage to Celeste.*

My blood ran cold.

I typed back immediately. *Who is this?*

Three dots appeared on the screen. Then, a new message.

*Tick tock, Iris. Nine minutes.*

I stared at the screen. The greenhouse was on the far side of the estate. It was completely isolated. If this was a trap, no one would hear me scream.

But if the footage reached Celeste, I wouldn't just lose my job. I would lose everything.

I grabbed my coat.