His Betrayal, My Ruin
Daisy Swift · Completed · 7.3k Words
Introduction
Chapter 1
My husband's grandma had just undergone heart bypass surgery.
The doctor said she needed quiet recuperation, so I had booked the entire top floor of the private club, sent all the security downstairs, and left just the two of us to enjoy some peace and quiet.
Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through from the entrance—
"Hey everyone, look! This is the private club I always come to. Only black card members can access the top floor~"
A heavily made-up young woman strutted in on high heels and a sequined mini dress. Behind her trailed two girlfriends and a cameraman.
She swayed for the lens: "Today I'm showing you what top-tier wealthy life looks like. Hit 100,000 likes and next time I'll take you to my fiancé's private yacht~"
The top floor was reserved. The reception downstairs should have turned everyone away. This woman had either forced her way in or knew someone at the club.
She made her way to the center of the lounge and finally spotted us in the corner.
She wrinkled her nose and pinched her nostrils at the camera: "How can just anyone get in here? Did they sneak in?"
She glanced at my unbranded linen dress with contempt, then looked at Grandma in the wheelchair: "Sharing a lounge with an old hag? I'm afraid she'll drop dead and ruin my spot!"
Her two friends snickered. The cameraman turned his lens toward us.
I took a breath and said coldly: "The top floor is reserved today. Please leave."
"Reserved?" Chloe pulled a black card from her bag and waved it at me. "It's a black card. I could book the entire club, let alone the top floor."
She looked down at me with a smirk: "Take this dying old woman and get out. You two reek of poverty."
The card glinted in the sunlight.
My pupils contracted.
I recognized it.
Julian's supplementary card. There were only three in the world—one with me, one with him, and the third…
How did it end up in her hands?
Grandma and I exchanged a glance. The same chill passed between us.
Even weakened in her wheelchair, Grandma's authority was undiminished. "Young lady, this is private property. The one who should leave is you."
She paused, eyes on the card. "How did you get that?"
Chloe's expression flickered, then hardened back into arrogance. "Who are you to question me? My fiancé gave it to me."
"Fiancé?" Grandma turned to me.
She caught the change in my face and patted my hand. "Don't rush. We'll ask Julian directly."
Then back to Chloe, her gaze cutting: "Now take your people and your camera and get out of my sight."
Chloe was rattled for a moment. Then her phone lit up with livestream comments—
"LMAO this old lady is fierce!"
"Chloe you got owned lol"
"What if they actually booked the place?"
"Please. Just two broke posers."
Chloe's face went red. She killed the stream.
"You ungrateful old bat." Her eyes went cold and vicious. She waved at her crew: "Teach these two a lesson."
They moved instantly.
One grabbed my hair and yanked hard. The other lunged at Grandma, snatching at her blanket, shoving the wheelchair.
"Stop!" I struggled, scalp burning, but what terrified me was Grandma—fresh out of surgery, she couldn't take any impact.
The cameraman had already circled behind the chair.
He raised his foot and kicked.
"No—!"
I watched helplessly as the wheelchair tipped over, Grandma falling hard to the ground along with the chair.
Her face went from pale to purple in an instant. She clutched her chest, her lips trembling violently, unable to utter a single word.
"Grandma!"
I broke free from that woman's grasp like a madwoman and threw myself beside Grandma, shielding her.
The two chased after me—one pinned my shoulder, the other raised her hand and slapped my face.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Pain exploded across my cheek. I didn't move.
I twisted one wrist until she screamed and let go, then pulled Grandma up against me.
Her breathing was barely there.
"She just had surgery!" I screamed. "She could die! I'm calling the police right now!"
Chloe shrugged and touched up her makeup. "So what if she dies?"
She snapped the compact shut. "My fiancé has tens of billions in assets. What he earns in a day could buy your entire family ten times over. Can you really afford to go against me?"
She crouched and drew a circle on the table with her lipstick. "He invested in this club. I'm the future owner. Get lost before you dirty my place."
I stared at her acting like she owned the place, my nails digging into my palms.
"Is your fiancé's name," I said slowly, "Julian?"
Chloe blinked. Then grinned. "So you do know him."
She picked up the wine glass and tipped it over my head.
The red wine soaked through my hair and down my dress.
"Since you know who he is—lick the floor clean, then get on your knees and apologize to me." She crossed her arms. "Otherwise, when he gets here, you're finished!"
I looked down at the wine pooling at my feet.
Something inside me split open.
The man who kissed my forehead every morning before leaving. Who said 'wait for me, sweetheart.' Who swore he would only ever love me.
When did he become someone else's fiancé?
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