One Star Lights My Way Chapter 1

To marry into the Manhattan elite, I fabricated my entire existence. I scrubbed away the stench of being a degenerate gambler's son and molded myself into an Oxford-educated prodigy.

But even liars have real hearts. I shed my old skin for one reason alone. I wanted the right to stand beside Victoria Sinclair.

I finally breached the gates of high society. I touched the untouchable upper crust.

I thought if I worked hard enough, if I became elegant and refined enough, I could stay by her side forever.

That was until the always-composed Victoria Sinclair threw a physical fit over a high-school dropout who worked at a hostess club, nearly coming to blows with a major business partner.

She bled millions in lost contracts and didn't even blink.

To clean up her mess, I arranged a peace-making dinner with that partner. By pure chance, I heard a familiar voice drifting from the adjacent private dining room.

"Victoria, your Mr. Perfect is probably busy wiping your ass right now, isn't he? Tsk, what a devoted little housewife. Watching him try so hard to play the elite corporate shark just to smooth things over for you almost brings a tear to my eye."

"If you weren't trying to dodge your family's arranged marriage, there is no way you would have married a fraud like him."

"He's a street rat who crawled out of a trailer park. Did he really think putting on a bespoke suit and dropping a few French phrases would actually change his bloodline?"

A soft chuckle escaped Victoria's lips. It was dripping with mockery.

She knew. She knew I was faking it this whole time.

And she had been faking it, too.

* * *

Standing outside that mahogany door, my chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a shotgun blast.

"I heard his deadbeat dad just got out of prison. Want to make a bet? I give it three months before his old man comes knocking for cash. When that happens, our dear Kyle's painstakingly crafted elite persona is going to shatter into a million pieces."

"I give it one month." The voice belonged to Carter, Victoria's childhood friend. "The whole Oxford backstory was a nice touch, but you just can't hide that deep-rooted poverty. Have you seen the way he cuts his steak? He grips the knife like he's murdering a personal enemy, terrified his etiquette isn't textbook perfect. It is absolutely hilarious."

Victoria let out a low laugh. Her tone was completely indifferent.

"I bet on a year. His ego is massive. To protect his little lie, he will probably figure out a way to exile his father back to the rust belt. He won't let him show his face anytime soon."

She paused, letting out a soft sigh.

"When my mother tried to force me to marry that braindead heir from the Gallagher family, I obviously refused."

"Kyle just happened to serve himself up on a silver platter. He might be a peasant, but he is clever. I needed a clever pawn to distract my parents. With them constantly warring with him, they naturally didn't have the energy to micromanage me."

"Besides, watching him try so desperately to mimic old-money elegance every single day is actually quite entertaining."

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

Victoria had known from the very beginning.

All my late nights, all my grueling efforts, were nothing but a circus act for her amusement.

A chorus of laughter erupted inside the room.

Victoria suddenly hushed them.

Through the crack in the door, I saw a young boy.

He was curled up on the leather sofa behind them, fast asleep. He was draped in Victoria's custom-tailored trench coat.

He shifted slightly, and Victoria immediately ordered the room to silence.

"Keep it down. Do not wake him up. He pulled a double shift at the club last night. He is exhausted."

Carter clicked his tongue, teasing her.

"Come on, Victoria. He is a literal hillbilly. He's as unrefined as it gets. What do you even see in him?"

Victoria rested her chin on her hand, gazing quietly at the sleeping boy.

"Compared to Kyle's manufactured elegance, I prefer authenticity. A twenty-dollar thrift store shirt looks incredibly charming on him. He doesn't bow down, and he doesn't grovel. That is what attracts me."

Just as she spoke, the boy rolled over and woke up.

He rubbed his sleepy eyes and clumsily sat up.

"How did I fall asleep..."

He carefully handed the coat back to Victoria.

"Ms. Sinclair, thank you for covering my little brother's medical bills. I swear I will pay you back every single cent..."

"You do not need to pay me back."

"No, I have to. I refuse to owe anyone."

He bit his lower lip. His eyes were shining with a stubborn, fierce pride.

Victoria's lips curled into a smile. She tapped the tip of his nose.

It was a gesture full of absolute adoration.

"Alright, alright. I can never win an argument with you. How about this. Come work as my executive assistant. I will pay you ten thousand a month."

Oliver's eyes lit up.

"But I didn't even finish high school. I don't know the first thing about business..."

"Degrees do not matter. You are a smart boy. You will learn."

He hesitated for a second, then nodded eagerly.

My heart felt like it was being pierced by a sewing needle.

A sharp, radiating pain filled my chest.

That assistant position belonged to me.

The official job posting for her executive assistant strictly required a Master's degree from an Ivy League university.

My family background was a fabrication.

But my academic degrees were completely real.

To earn that position, I had prepared for years.

Victoria's company had a major branch in Paris. She traveled there constantly.

Terrified that she would find me unprofessional, I spent every waking hour mastering French and studying high-society etiquette.

I lived my entire life in transit between tutors and classes.

It turned out none of that mattered to her. Not in the slightest.

For the first time, I realized you didn't need to be brilliant to stand by her side.

Victoria gently ruffled the boy's hair.

"For my assistant, a high school education is more than enough."

Oliver smiled shyly.

Standing in the hallway, my hands and feet went completely numb. I could barely hold myself upright.

I dragged my hollow body back to my own private dining room.