Chapter 1: Screw You and Your Money
Selena's POV
"Sterling young master? Fiancée? With that shabby look of yours?"
The maid's voice dripped with disdain as she eyed me up and down like I was yesterday's trash. I stood there at the massive iron gates of the Sterling estate, clutching Grandpa's letter in my shaky hands, my cheeks burning hot with humiliation.
I'd braced for some surprise, maybe a little awkwardness, showing up unannounced like this. But getting treated like a gold-digging nobody by the freaking help? That was a curveball I hadn't seen coming.
"I have a letter from my grandfather," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "It's about the marriage arrangement between our families."
The maid—annoyingly gorgeous, with her perfectly styled blonde hair and flawless makeup—let out a cold laugh that sent chills down my spine.
"Marriage arrangement? Sweetie, I've seen your type a dozen times, trying to weasel into this family. Girls claiming they're knocked up with the young master's kid, dreaming of becoming Mrs. Sterling." She stepped closer, her pricey perfume hitting me like a slap, making me feel even more out of place in my simple sundress. "But none of them walked away happy, if you catch my drift."
My stomach twisted. What the hell does that mean? Is my so-called fiancé some player? Grandpa, what mess did you drag me into?
"Look, I'm not weaseling into anything," I snapped, my patience fraying. "I'm his legitimate fiancée."
"Lily, maybe we should at least let her—" another maid started, but the blonde—apparently named Lily—cut her off with a sharp wave.
"Rosa, don't be so gullible. Our young master is heir to a fortune. This country bumpkin isn't even worth the dirt on his shoes." Lily's eyes gleamed with pure spite as she turned back to me. "And even if he gets pissed, all I have to do is bat my lashes, and he forgives everything."
That hit like a gut punch. So not only was my fiancé a serial cheater, but he was fooling around with the help?
"You have no right to keep me from seeing him," I said, stepping forward. "I'm not leaving until—"
"Oh, you are," Lily snarled, her tone turning vicious. "Girls, show this little gold-digger what happens when you mess with the Sterlings."
Before I could blink, hands grabbed me, shoving and yanking. I heard Rosa protest—"Lily, if the young master finds out, this could blow up"—but another maid shut her down fast.
"Rosa, why feel sorry for her? Our master's a loaded heir. This girl's straight out of the sticks—how could she ever measure up?"
"Get your hands off me!" I yelled, but they outnumbered me. One hard shove sent me sprawling onto the gravel driveway, my knees scraping raw against the stones.
Pain exploded through my legs, blood seeping through my torn stockings. But the real sting? The humiliation scorching my chest like wildfire.
"You have no right to assault me!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet. "I'm his fiancée!"
"Not anymore, honey," Lily smirked, smug as hell. "Now scram before we call security."
I was shaking with rage as I brushed gravel from my scraped palms, the arrogance of these people boiling my blood. Who the hell did they think they were?
"The Sterling family is a total disgrace!" I spat as they shoved me out the gates. "What kind of fiancé would I even want from trash like you?"
The gates clanged shut with a boom that echoed in my gut. I stood on the sidewalk, bleeding and humiliated, feeling like the world's biggest idiot. This guy's not worth spit. I need to track him down and end this engagement myself.
"Miss! Miss, wait!"
I spun around to see Rosa jogging after me, glancing nervously back at the gates. She looked younger than the others, maybe early twenties, with kind eyes that actually seemed sorry.
"I'm so sorry about that," she said, out of breath. "Lily can be a real piece of work. But if you really need to see the young master, try Sterling Group downtown. He's there most days."
A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. "Thank you," I said, meaning it. "You're the first decent person I've met today."
She flashed a small, sad smile before darting back inside.
Sterling Group's headquarters loomed over downtown like a gleaming monument to money and power. I marched to the reception desk, planted my hands on the polished counter, and didn't mince words.
"I need to see Mr. Sterling," I declared. "Tell him I'm here to call off our engagement."
The receptionist—another picture-perfect type—gave me a once-over. "I'll... see what I can do," she said, grabbing her phone.
Five minutes later, I was whisked into an elevator that rocketed to the top floor so fast my ears popped.
"Right through here, miss," she said, opening massive double doors.
I took a deep breath, bracing for round two, and stormed into what had to be the CEO's office.
"I want to call off this engagement!" I blurted before I was even fully inside. "I'm here to tell you that—"
The words died on my tongue.
The man behind the huge mahogany desk looked up slowly from his papers, and my brain flatlined. Holy crap. Dark hair swept back just right, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes so piercing they pinned me in place, like he could read every furious thought racing through my head.
Get it together, Selena, I snapped at myself. Hot or not, his family's goons just humiliated you. Don't let those looks derail you.
"I want to break off our engagement!" I repeated, channeling my anger to steady my voice. I yanked Grandpa's letter from my purse and slammed it on his desk with every ounce of fury I'd built up. "This is the marriage contract my grandfather left me. Consider this your official notice—I want nothing to do with you or your stuck-up family!"
He stared at me for a long beat, then rose slowly. Damn, he was tall—at least six-two, with shoulders that filled out his suit like it was made for him, his presence sucking all the air from the room. He picked up the letter with those long, elegant fingers, reading it carefully before meeting my eyes again.
And then—out of nowhere—his lips curved into the warmest, most disarming smile I'd ever seen, gentle and almost relieved, like I'd just handed him a lifeline instead of a rejection.
"So you're my fiancée?" His voice was deep and smooth, laced with something I couldn't pin down—amusement? Genuine warmth? It sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine, twisting my resolve into knots.
