“All my friends at least get $200 gifts like 1314. Even the worst boyfriends send $800. And you? Barely a hundred bucks. What are you trying to do, feed a beggar? I don’t even have the courage to post this on social media!”
Guilt gnawed at me, and I promised her over and over that one day I’d make real money and give her the best life.
I begged her to wait for me two more years. Just two years, and I would marry her.
But Sophia Reed sneered:
“Two years, two years—how many ‘two years’ does a woman have? With your pathetic salary, when will you ever save enough for a million-dollar dowry? By the time you come to marry me, I’ll already be a thirty-year-old has-been!”
That night, we had our fiercest fight. Neither of us said the word “breakup,” but neither of us sent another message for a month.
She blocked me and moved away.
And just like that, my first love was over.
Later, I climbed step by step to the position of general manager in the Carter Group, multiplying the company’s performance many times over.
But my stepmother, Margaret Carter, feared I might compete with Daniel Carter for the family fortune. So, overnight, she sent me abroad, claiming it was to “expand our overseas business.”
Snapping back to the present, I messaged my assistant, Kevin Johnson:
“Book me a flight back to the United States in two days.”
“And have the limited-edition Pagani shipped over. I want to drive it.”
The moment I stepped out of the car at the hotel entrance, I drew countless stares.
Many of those staring were my old college acquaintances—people who once knew Sophia and me.
“Whoa, what the hell is that? Never seen that brand before. Must be some cheap knockoff.”
“Wait, isn’t that Ethan Carter? The poor loser Sophia dumped back in college!”
“That car frame looks familiar. Isn’t it just one of those new Teslas?”
“Bet he spent a fortune ‘modding’ it. Always pretending to be rich. Sophia, look! Your first love is here—driving some trashy car! Hahaha! Did he really think we wouldn’t recognize it?”
Sophia, dressed in a custom-made wedding gown, stood at the entrance, her eyes filled with expectation as she looked toward the Carter family estate.
Hearing their laughter, she turned. The contempt in her gaze was impossible to hide.
“Ethan, you really went all out just to show up at my wedding, didn’t you?”
“Too bad. Even a Tesla maxes out at thirty grand. No matter how much you modify it, it’s still garbage. It only proves your inferiority complex—nothing more!”
“Seeing you so pathetic now only makes me even more certain—I was right to leave you. No matter how hard a sparrow tries, it can never become a phoenix.”
One of my old roommates laughed out loud and mocked me:
“Ethan, don’t you know? Sophia’s fiancé gave her a Porsche as an engagement gift. Limited edition, studded with diamonds! If you really like sports cars that much, why don’t you get down on your knees and beg her? Who knows, maybe her soft heart will take pity on you!”
Someone jabbed him with an elbow.
“Hey, don’t say that. A man’s pride is worth more than gold. Ethan showing up in a souped-up car is already entertaining enough. Otherwise, how would we get to see something this ugly?”
“Unbelievable! I’ve lived thirty years and never seen someone so desperate to show off. I’ve gotta snap a picture for social media!”
Ever since I left the country, the Carter Group under Daniel’s management had plummeted. Its market value dropped by billions.
If not for my overseas profits propping them up, the family would have been wiped off the map in New York City long ago.
And yet, they had the nerve to use my money to curry favor with women?
Sophia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smirked.
“Ethan, my husband says he’ll hire me a driver after the wedding. If you’re really that obsessed with cars, I can put in a word for you. You could drive for me. Consider it repayment for all you did back then.”
