One Star Lights My Way Chapter 2

The business partner was still trying to humiliate me.

He poured cheap vodka straight into a glass of expensive scotch.

"If Mr. Kyle downs this glass right now, whatever bad blood Ms. Sinclair and I have will be wiped clean."

He flashed me a sleazy, arrogant smirk.

Once, to secure a contract for Victoria, I drank until my stomach hemorrhaged. I nearly died on an operating table.

This time, I was done being a fool.

I took the glass from his hand and poured the liquor straight onto the carpet.

"Mr. Gallagher, you and Ms. Sinclair can settle your own disputes. I have other matters to attend to. Excuse me."

Like a walking corpse, I returned to the Sinclair estate.

My mother-in-law was sitting rigidly on the parlor sofa, her eyes closed in meditation.

Hearing the door open, she did not even bother to look up.

"Have you finalized the seating chart for tomorrow's charity luncheon with the foundation directors?"

"Also, for the family heritage gala next month, I had the butler email you the flight itineraries for the senior board members. Make sure you personally arrange their airport transfers."

"We allowed you to marry into the Sinclair family so you could maintain our public image. You must execute these duties flawlessly. Otherwise, what is the difference between marrying you and plucking a filthy illiterate beggar off the streets?"

A filthy beggar.

My chest throbbed again.

I stood quietly in the foyer. I didn't say a single word. I just turned and walked toward the grand staircase.

"Halt! Are you deaf? Or was your basic breeding fed to the dogs?"

I paused at the foot of the stairs. For the first time in five years, I did not turn around to face her.

"Find someone else to do it. I am tired."

Behind me, Eleanor unleashed a torrent of vicious insults, but I tuned them all out.

I slammed the bedroom door shut, sealing away the noise.

Memories flooded my mind. I suddenly remembered the very first time I laid eyes on Victoria Sinclair.

I was a broke college student working as a banquet waiter to pay my tuition.

It was my first time stepping into the glittering world of the ultra-rich. I was terrified. I was trembling.

I accidentally knocked over a guest's glass, spilling champagne all over their suit.

The man flew into a violent rage. He grabbed me by the throat, slammed me into the marble floor, and kicked me hard in the ribs.

I was shaking from the agonizing pain.

"You filthy street rat! Do you have any idea how much this suit costs? It is custom Italian couture! It costs seven figures! It is money a bottom-feeder like you couldn't earn in three lifetimes!"

I kneeled on the floor like a beaten dog, pressing my hands together, begging for forgiveness.

My face was bleeding from his slaps. The blood mixed with my tears, turning my vision red.

It was Victoria who stepped out of the crowd and saved me.

"It is just a piece of fabric. There is no need to torture the poor boy over it."

Her tone was light, effortless, almost bored.

The way her slender, beautiful fingers held the pen as she wrote a blank check for the man.

I still remember it vividly.

My heart pounded violently in my chest.

It was the first time I truly understood the crushing weight of class disparity.

I was a top-tier university student, yet just because I was born poor, they could grind me into the dirt like an insignificant ant.

But I refused to be an ant. I wanted to be the master of my own fate.

I wanted a beautiful life, and I wanted the woman standing in front of me.

In that moment, a twisted mixture of lust and ambition gave birth to an absurd, desperate plan.

I forged my origins. I spun a web of lies.

All just to earn a ticket into her world.

Just to stand as her equal.

I eventually made it happen.

But looking back now, I finally understood that I was nothing more than a game to Victoria.

She did not love my hard-earned brilliance. Yet she was completely captivated by a high-school dropout from a nightclub.

Just because he was authentic. Because he refused to bow down.

It was hilariously tragic.

I dialed my lawyer's number and instructed him to draft a divorce settlement.

I knew it was time to end this.

I lay in bed, tossing and turning in the dark.