Chapter 1
I lived with Jaxon Gable for three years, and he never once popped the question.
I didn't rush him because we were both as broke as a joke.
One day, I found a receipt in his jacket pocket.
He bought a fancy-schmancy bag that cost more than I made in years.
Later, I overheard his friend ask him. "You really gonna keep hiding it from her? You're getting hitched to your fiancée."
Jaxon lit a smoke and snickered, "No prob. I'm a pro at acting. Three years, and she didn't catch on."
I quietly turned around, tossed the ring I was planning to propose with, and quit my job.
On the day Jaxon got married, I hopped on a plane to go abroad.
I vanished from his world for good.
Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting a gentle glow on the floor. I hummed a tune as I tossed Jaxon's discarded clothes into the washing machine.
I fished out his wallet, keys, and a neatly folded receipt from the pocket of his shirt.
My heart skipped a beat.
It was a habit of mine to check all his pockets, just to make sure nothing was left behind.
I unfolded the receipt. The glaring LV logo and the staggering numbers hit me like a punch in the gut.
"LV?" I murmured in astonishment.
I'd only ever seen and heard of this brand on TV. I unconsciously clenched my fingers, crumpling the receipt.
"4-42 thousand dollars?" I exclaimed.
That was several years' worth of my salary.
I racked my brain. Was there any special occasion coming up? There was none.
It was neither my birthday nor his.
Could it be a surprise for me?
The thought had barely emerged before I immediately dismissed it.
There was no way. He had never given me anything so expensive.
Besides, with his financial situation, he couldn't afford it.
A wave of intense unease washed over me like a tidal wave as I clutched the receipt so tightly I nearly tore it to pieces.
I double-checked the signature. That bold, flourishing Gable, even though it wasn't his full name, was unmistakably his.
I had to get to the bottom of this.
I grabbed my bag, rushed out the door, and headed straight to the luxury store.
The store was opulent, its crystal chandeliers casting a dazzling, blinding light that made me feel a bit out of place.
"Hello? How can I help you?" a salesgirl approached with a polished, professional smile.
I took a deep breath and tried to sound calm. "I'd like to ask about this receipt."
I handed over the crumpled receipt.
The salesgirl took the receipt, glanced at it, and her expression shifted subtly. "Oh, so it's this bag..."
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