They Called Me a Gold Digger—Until They Learned the Trut

“Well, I’ll give you this—it’s a pretty convincing replica. Shame about the glaze though, it's too new. A dead giveaway that it's fake.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Excellent eye, Miss Wright.”

Ironically, it was the only fake item in the house.

But Phoebe thought I was mocking her. Her expression turned even colder.

“Gabriel, I don’t have time to play games with you. Either you repay the five hundred thousand right now and sign these agreements, or the engagement is officially off.”

“If your dream of being a rich househusband shatters, don’t come crying.”

“Oh—and don’t expect me to take care of your parents either. With no retirement pension, I’m not funding their—”

She was abruptly cut off by one of the bodyguards, who leaned in and whispered, “Miss Wright, doesn’t that vase look like the centerpiece from the Sotheby’s auction last week?”

Phoebe froze and turned to where the man was pointing.

It was a Song Dynasty official kiln plum vase—an antique my father had bid on at a Sotheby’s charity auction just because I liked it. He bought it as a gift—for me to play with.

She stared at it for several seconds, her expression shifting from confused to incredulous before she scoffed.

“Really, Gabriel? A fake inspired by a Sotheby’s auction piece? You’ve got some nerve.”

Looking at this woman—three years older than me—I silently thanked the heavens I wasn’t yet legally of age to marry. If it weren’t for that loophole, by the terms of our family agreement, I’d already be her husband.

To be tied to someone like this—calculating, pretentious, cheap, and absolutely lacking in discernment—would’ve been the shame of my life.

I sighed and gestured toward the door.

“Phoebe, I don’t blame you for being blind, but if you’re going to come into my house and humiliate yourself, I won’t entertain it any longer.”

Her expression immediately darkened. “Oh, so now you think I need you?”

“Let me tell you—men like you, who rely on their bodies and sponge off others, are the worst! You’ve got a terrible reputation now. No decent woman would marry you! I was only tolerating you because of the elders’ arrangement!”

I didn’t bother arguing. Instead, I picked up the vase and slowly turned it over so she could see the base.

“Take a good look. It's Sotheby’s authentication serial number—one of a kind. The final bid is 120 million dollars.”

“You really think I’d stoop so low for your five hundred thousand?” I snickered.

“I could let it go out of respect for our families. But the funny thing is—I happen to despise gold-digging women who want something for nothing.”

“So here’s my offer: if you and your little goon squad leave my house immediately and never show your face to me again, I’ll forget the slander and online harassment.”

Phoebe froze.

The bodyguards all gasped, one of them whispering, “Miss Wright, he’s so confident. Maybe this is a misunderstanding. That vase looks real to me.”

Phoebe’s face turned an ugly shade of gray. She yanked the vase out of my hands and turned it over and over, her expression growing darker with each second.

Finally, she pulled out her phone and called Blake.

“Blake, your sister works at the Sotheby’s auction house, right? Ask her who won the final bid on that plum vase last time.”

“Oh, and bring the top-tier lawyer I hired over to Gabriel’s place.”

“He’s still denying he used my card. Today, I will make him admit it. I can’t let him think he can dominate me now and get even worse after marriage!”

Well, if she wanted to be humiliated, I didn’t mind waiting.

Ten minutes later, Blake arrived with the lawyer in tow, wearing a smug look on his face.

“Miss Wright, I checked. That plum vase was bought by the richest man in the city. He said it was a gift for his son to use as a flower vase.”

Upon hearing that, Phoebe’s face lit up with a certainty.