Eloped with the Neighbor's Brother

I eloped with my neighbor, Owen Allen, bringing three million with me.

We endured a lot of hardship in the first three years. Finally, he became a financial tycoon.

In the fourth year, I aborted his child. We got married.

Everyone said I was lucky. I had everything I wanted. They envied me for having a husband who could impact the GDP.

But I was always praying for the simplest things.

Our families had been friends for generations. We lived in the same estate.

I was an illegitimate daughter in the Wright family, not even worthy of the family name. He, on the other hand, was the highly regarded heir of the Allen family.

The elites looked down on me, laughing. They said I was nothing more than his kept pet.

He would scold the young masters and ladies who bullied me. He would start every ball with me. He taught me how to survive in this world of fame and fortune.

On the night of my eighteenth birthday, the first snow fell in Campbell.

He arranged for 1,001 drones to hover outside my attic, illuminating the entire hillside villa.

In the sky, the drones formed the promise that had trapped me for half my life. "Pure as the snow in the sky, bright as the moon in the clouds, may we be together forever, never parting until old age."

I spent the whole night thinking about which dress to wear to meet Owen at dawn.

But by dawn, the Allen family had gone bankrupt.

It was actually worse than bankruptcy. The Allen Group was suspected of producing fake vaccines, causing hundreds of thousands of children to become problem cases.

During that time, I never saw Owen again.

Until one day, my father, who had never spoken to me before, pointed at me and cursed, "It was fine when we thought you could at least be Owen's mistress. But now Mr. Allen's downfall was caused by a woman. If you get involved with Owen again, I'll break your legs."

I was locked up, and even the attic windows were sealed with wooden frames.

No one knew how I escaped. Only my arm, which ached during rainy days, would remind me of what I put it through.

I searched everywhere overnight but couldn't find Owen.

I finally found him in a crematorium.

The once elegant and handsome Owen was gone. He had stubble all over his face and was holding an urn.

From a distance, he softly called my name, "Natalie."

Before I could reach him, tears were already streaming down my face.

Both of his hands were occupied, so he could only lean his forehead against me and gently say, "Natalie, don't cry."

I held his head, still sobbing but speaking with determination, "Don't be afraid, Owen. I will always stay with you."

I took out the three million my mother, who died early as a mistress, had left for me.

Owen held my hand, and we left Campbell.

The first three years were so hard that even I used to cold stares, found it difficult.

We were used to the warmth of the northern winters, so neither of us could stand the damp cold of the south.

Owen would always get up in the middle of the night to change my hot water bottle, wrapping it in a soft towel and placing it at my feet.

He would pat my head and whisper, "Honey, just bear with it a little longer. In a few years, I'll make sure you live the life you used to."

Ever since we left, he had always called me "honey."

I wanted to be his wife. I wanted to grow old with him.

Owen developed software and went out every day to drum up business.

He was under a lot of pressure. I learned to cook all sorts of dishes for him, mastering every cuisine.

I didn't go to college. To save on staffing costs, I worked as a receptionist during the day and taught myself accounting at night to balance the company's books.

At the company, I ordered Owen to keep things professional and not reveal our relationship.

In less than half a year, Owen secured the Series A investment.

The other party sent their heiress, Everly Turner, to handle the connection.

I greeted her with a smile at the front desk, but she didn't even glance at me and walked straight into Owen's office.

The programmer next to me, who was helping carry some water, asked, "Why is she so arrogant? Natalie, do you know who she is?"

I shook my head, indicating I didn't know.

The designer girl was full of gossip. She chimed in, "She's an heiress from the Turner family, a big name in Tanaxes. I heard she graduated from Stanford University, so she has every reason to be proud."

I put on an expression of realization and said, "Oh, I see."

The truth is, I've seen plenty of heiresses like Everly in the past decade. To be honest, she wasn't the most eye-catching one.

Later on, I always timed my visits around mealtime. As a client, Owen couldn't possibly not treat me well.

Gradually, people in the company started gossiping with me.

"Natalie, do you think the boss is about to marry Everly?"

"When Ms. Turner and the boss stand together, it feels like watching a workplace drama."

"Natalie, I see the boss often calls you into his office. Do you know any inside scoop?"

I suppressed my emotions and replied with a smile, "I'm just a receptionist. What could I possibly know?"

When I got home that night, Owen was lying on the couch, not moving.

I took a warm towel and roughly wiped his face.

Half-asleep, he mumbled, "Babe, that hurts."

I got annoyed and pinched him on the lower back. "Why are you so good-looking? You're always attracting attention."

Owen chuckled softly, then turned over and pulled me into his arms, trapping me in his embrace. "Babe, you're wronging me."

He gently stroked my waist. I couldn't stand the tickling and kept begging for mercy.

But he wouldn't let me go. He lowered his head, using his lips to find my brow, my eyes, and then my lips.

In that moment, we indulged in each other's warmth and passion.