After Being Abandoned by the Grandson of New York’s Richest Man, I Became the Center of Attention at His Wedding

I grew up alongside Asher, the grandson of Los Angeles’ wealthiest man. Over the course of ten years, I transformed from his doting sister to his undisclosed lover, ultimately becoming the least troublesome among the myriad women surrounding him. Everyone knew I loved him until the day his idealized love returned from abroad. For her, he dismissed all the other women around him, including me. The night I left, he and his friends laughed uproariously. But later, they all said Asher had gone mad.

When I got up from bed, Asher was still asleep. The floor was a mess, and my thigh-high stockings were beyond repair. But I had a meeting at the company this morning. I clicked my tongue, rubbed my sore lower back, and rummaged through the drawer. I was sure I had left a pair there last time, but I couldn’t find them. Just then, a whistle sounded behind me, and Asher’s voice was filled with playful teasing. “Hey, Sis, still got that great figure.” I ignored him. “Where are my socks?” He frowned, thinking about it casually, “I think Sasha or Lily from State University took them last time?” “Can’t remember.” I paused my search. Even though it wasn’t the first time I’d heard him say something like that, my heart ached slightly, tinged with self-mockery. After all these years, haven’t I learned yet? I was never special to him. I sighed deeply and stood up to get dressed. But Asher patted the space beside him, like a lazy big cat, heavily implying. “Why are you leaving so early, Sis?” “I have a morning meeting at the company.” He glanced at me and clicked his tongue, “Is it for that piece of land again? Why work so hard? Stay with me this morning. That land will be yours.”