After my husband threw me out of the house after our divorce, I took the old bank card my father had left behind and used it at a branch in the U.S., sending the whole bank lobby into a stir as the staff hurriedly called the manager over, and the words “Look at the name on this account!” revealed a family secret I had never known.

That night, the recording of her fight with him in front of the building went viral on local gossip blogs. Her beautiful face was now associated with bankruptcy and cheap drama. Her modeling career was finished. The doors of the high-class world closed.

Aniya, who once felt on top of the world, now had to sell her authentic bags—and some fakes she just discovered he’d given her—one by one just to survive, back to the obscurity she hated so much.

Two weeks after the seizure, Zelica sat with Seek in the meeting room of her mansion. The mahogany table was now full of blueprints.

“All assets of Quacy Constructions, Inc. have been liquidated,” Seek informed. “His office, his equipment, and the penthouse. Everything is enough to cover the debt of $500,000 plus interest and legal costs.”

“Good,” Zelica said. “What will we do with the penthouse?”

“We can sell it.”