Ditch My Fake-Poor Boyfriend, Marry My CEO Childhood Sweetheart

Chapter 2

James suddenly slammed his glass onto the floor. The sharp crack of shattering glass sucked the air out of the room.

"I don't want to hear that again." His voice was low, dangerous. "If this reaches Taylor's ears, don't blame me for what happens next."

His fingers flicked a stray shard off his sleeve, as if wiping away something insignificant.

"Comparing Sophia Carter to Taylor?" He let out a cold chuckle. "What, are you trying to insult her?"

Each word was a slap. A heavy, brutal punch, shattering every sweet memory I'd ever held onto.

Fake.

It was all fake.

The person James had risked his life for during the earthquake… wasn't me.

A slow, suffocating chill spread through my body, ice shards stabbing through my veins.

I wanted to take my burning whiskey and smash the glass over his head.

Why?

Why do rich people get to treat others like this?

What did I do to deserve this?

But I couldn't afford to be reckless.

My life wasn't just mine to throw away.

I had my grandmother—the woman who raised me by scavenging through trash just to keep me alive. I couldn't let her bury her only family.

I turned and ran for the door.

James being here meant he never took the money to the hospital.

There was no time to cry. No time to hurt.

I had to get to the hospital. My grandmother needed that money.

But just as I reached the exit, I crashed into someone.

"Ow, that hurts."

Instinct made me want to apologize.

Then—

A foot slammed into my stomach.

Hard.

The force knocked me off my feet, my back hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

Pain.

White-hot, searing pain shot through my gut like a knife twisting inside me.

I gasped, curling up instinctively, my hands gripping my stomach as a bitter taste flooded my mouth.

Blood.

It seeped past my lips, staining my blue mask red.

I forced myself to look up.

And my breath caught.

James.

He had kicked me.

But he didn't even look at me.

Like I didn't exist.

Instead, he turned to the woman I had bumped into, his whole demeanor shifting as he rushed to her side.

"Taylor," he murmured, his voice gentle in a way I'd never heard before. "When did you get back? Why didn't you tell me? Are you hurt?"

I froze.

Taylor?

I forced my head up, blinking past the haze of pain.

And the moment I saw her face—

Something inside me shattered.

Jessica Taylor.

Of course.

James's one true love was my half-sister.

The universe was playing a sick joke on me.

I lay there, trembling, rage and despair clawing at my throat.

Jessica didn't even spare me a glance.

Instead, she reached up and pinched James's cheek playfully, her voice light.

"I'm fine. My flight just landed tonight. I came straight here to see you." She tilted her head. "Touched?"

James's lips curled into a smile I had never seen before.

Pure. Unrestrained. Overflowing with adoration.

He helped her into a seat, his fingers lingering on her wrist, his eyes warm.

"I am touched," he murmured. "But you should've told me sooner. I would've picked you up from the airport."

Then, as if remembering something, he pulled out his phone and sent a message.

Moments later, a server walked in, carrying a sleek shopping bag.

James took out a card and swiped it on the spot.

Jessica peeked inside.

"An Hermès?" She raised a brow. "Eighty thousand dollars? James, I already have this one."

James hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then Jessica leaned closer, clutching the bag to her chest with a teasing smile.

"But since it's from you," she said sweetly, "I love it."

And just like that, James melted.

"I also ordered you a new Ferrari," he added. "It should be here soon."

The room filled with soft laughter. Warmth. Affection.

None of it was for me.

I turned away, forcing my legs to move.

But no one noticed.

No one ever noticed when Jessica Taylor was in the room.

James really was rich.

And I—

I once carried his child.

I remembered the night he had held my hands, his eyes filled with sorrow, as he gestured:

I'm sorry, Sophia. If I wasn't mute… If I had money… Our baby could've lived.

I had believed him.

I had chosen the cheapest option—a medication abortion that cost less than five hundred dollars.

Even when I bled for days, even when my body ached with unbearable pain, I still had to stand behind a supermarket cash register, earning six dollars an hour just to survive.

And yet—

The bag he had casually given Jessica?

It could've raised our child for three years.

The Ferrari?

It could've changed my entire life.

But none of that mattered to him.

Because he never loved me.

And he never wanted our child.

I left the hotel, my vision swimming with unshed tears.

The cold night air wrapped around me, biting into my skin. But no matter how tightly I hugged myself, I couldn't stop shaking.

James's lies weren't even clever.

Yet I had fallen for every single one.

I hailed a taxi, staring blankly out the window as memories of our first meeting flooded back.

I had found him on the street, about to be beaten to death by a gang of thugs.

I had called the police and saved his life.

He had clung to me ever since, pretending to be mute, following me home like a lost puppy.

I had grown up with nothing but my grandmother, so I was used to hardship.

I was kind. Optimistic.

Too soft.

So when James asked to stay, I let him—despite barely having enough space for myself.

I worked myself to the bone, and in return, he took care of my grandmother while I was out.

I thought we had built something real.

I thought he was kind.

I thought he loved me.

Jessica Taylor.

My mother's real daughter.

The child she chose when she abandoned me and my father to marry a billionaire.

She had tormented me in high school.

Framed me for theft. Had me expelled.

And the most ridiculous part?

I had seen Jessica before, on the night I first met James.

She had been sitting in a luxury car, laughing, while a group of thugs beat him to a pulp.

I had been the idiot who stepped in.

When I finally got home, exhausted and aching, I reached for my bank card.

And stopped.

My hands trembled.

The drawer was empty.

My card was gone.

My eighty thousand dollars, everything I had saved...

Gone.

And then, like a slow, creeping horror, realization dawned.

The card James used to buy Jessica that bag…

It was mine.

A numb, icy cold spread through my body.

I sank to my knees, my fingers fumbling for my phone.

I typed out a message with trembling hands.

Where's my bank card?