After giving up being a billionaire's mistress

After wiring fifty grand to her bank account, Sariah Allen stepped out of the office and headed straight for the big shopping mall downtown. Fifty thousand dollars was life-changing money for her. To Emory Kelly? It was basically pocket change.

"I'd like to see that bag, please." Sariah screwed up her courage and stepped into the luxury boutique.

The saleswoman flicked a quick, dismissive glance over her, taking in every detail of her outfit. "That one's forty-nine thousand eight hundred," she said, voice thick with condescension.

Sariah gave a small smile. That was almost exactly what she had. "I'll take it. Wrap it up for me, please," she answered calmly, then sank into a nearby chair—her bad leg was throbbing.

The saleswoman's whole energy shifted instantly. She pasted on a sugary friendly smile and hurried off to grab the bag for Sariah.

In this store, a forty-thousand-dollar bag was barely entry-level, nothing fancy at all. But for Sariah? It was supposed to be her dignity. Holding the smooth leather in her hands, she felt its heavy weight settle into her palms. This luxury item didn't make her feel any more confident. If anything, it only dug her sense of not belonging deeper.

Before she turned away from the counter, Sariah caught sight of another bag tucked in a locked glass display case. "How much is that one?" she asked.

She'd seen Adelaide Patterson carrying that exact same bag before—a gift straight from Emory Kelly. Adelaide had held it like it belonged to her, all polished grace and unshakable confidence.

"That's a limited edition," the saleswoman explained, still smiling wide. "To get one, you either need to have spent over three million dollars with our brand, or buy a bundle of additional pieces that adds up to around a million."

Sariah froze mid-step. Three million dollars… It was nothing, loose change Emory could throw away just to make Adelaide smile. But for the orphanage Sariah loved, that same amount would save lives.

In this life, fate treated people like some things were priceless, and others worthless.

Sariah had always been born into the worthless category.

The gap between her and Adelaide wasn't just the price tag on a handbag. It was blood, it was upbringing, it was woven into every tiny, ordinary detail of who they were.

Emory would never give Adelaide anything less than the best. Because he knew her worth went way beyond a few thousand dollars.

And here she was—some lowly toad deluding herself she could ever be a swan. It was pathetic.

Back at her tiny rented apartment, Sariah immediately listed the bag on a secondhand resale site. It was brand new, so she priced it just below retail to move it fast. As soon as it sold, she planned to wire every cent to Laurel Hayes, the director of the orphanage.

The kids still needed warm winter coats. Forty thousand dollars would make sure they got everything they needed to get through the cold.

After a long hot shower, Sariah stood naked in front of her closet, picking out an outfit for her meeting with Mr. Sullivan the next day.

The door clicked open out of nowhere. Emory Kelly had let himself in without even texting he was coming.

Sariah jumped, fumbling to wrap a towel around herself fast. "Mr. Kelly…"

"You quit?" Emory frowned, shifting the small paper bag of fruit he'd picked up from the corner bodega in his hand.

He never showed up empty-handed, but his gifts were always simple: a spiced honey cake, a handful of fruit, a cheap bunch of grocery store flowers.

"Yes." Sariah nodded. This apartment was Emory's, after all—he'd paid for it for her. It wasn't a surprise he came and went as he pleased.

"Don't worry about Lu Miaomiao. I'm taking care of it," Emory said, his eyes scanning her face before he tugged her down to sit beside him on the bed. His tone was softer than usual. "Does it still hurt?"

Sariah stared at her feet and shook her head.

"I talked to HR. They didn't process your resignation. They're putting you on paid leave. Come back whenever you're ready," Emory said, offering her this special favor like it was nothing.

But to Sariah, it just felt like charity.

Emory had always been good to her, ever since he'd found out his sister had been bullying her nonstop. He'd stepped in as her benefactor, always looking down at her from his high place.

"Are you getting married?" Sariah drew in a deep breath and forced the question out.

Emory went quiet. He didn't answer.

Sariah ignored the burn behind her eyes and forced a smile. "I'm not coming back to the company. I'll move out soon, too. Emory, let's end this. I hope you and Miss Patterson have a happy life together."

She had principles. She had a line. She wasn't going to be the other woman breaking up a marriage.

Emory's frown deepened. He was clearly pissed off. "Are you trying to start drama?"

Sariah let out a weak, bitter laugh. "No…"

Emory tugged her into his arms, like he was trying to soothe her. "Stay here, be comfortable. We'll figure all this out after the wedding."

He spoke like it was no big deal, completely unaware how much his words cut her open.

Maybe he'd never once thought of her as his equal.

"That day, after the accident, Adelaide was shaken up. She feels a little guilty she hasn't checked on you," Emory murmured, his fingers automatically drifting to stroke the curve of her waist. He'd always loved her body—shaped it himself, ever since she was a teenager.

When she was nineteen, Sariah had been malnourished, stunted, smaller than all the other girls her age. Then Emory had taken her in, made sure she never had to survive on dry bread and pickles again.

"Tomorrow night Adelaide's hosting a small Thanksgiving dinner for a couple friends. I'm planning to propose there, and I need you to help get everything ready."

As he spoke, Emory untied the towel wrapped around Sariah's body, his movements easy, unhurried, like he owned her. His warm breath fanned over the side of her neck.

Sariah couldn't deny it any longer—he was truly cruel.

At the end of the day, he was just the same as his sister.

Hadn't Adelaide satisfied him when they were in the Bahamas?

"I'm not going…" Sariah pushed him away, yanking the towel back around herself. A wave of nausea rolled up her throat. She already had an appointment with Robert Sullivan tomorrow evening.

"If you don't go, she'll get suspicious," Emory pressed, clearly annoyed by her refusal. "After her divorce, she's more sensitive. I don't want her suspecting anything about us."