He Humiliated Me as a Fraud,Now I’m the CEO He Can’t Touch

My boyfriend was a medical genius.

I barely scraped into a second-tier college.

When friends said I wasn't good enough for him, he cut them off on the spot:

"Teresa Swanson is my salvation. You don't get to run your mouths about her."

But no matter how hard I tried, graduation felt impossible.

So I asked Grayson Henson to add my name to one of his papers.

Without hesitation, he put my name before his.

But when I threw my arms around him in excitement, I heard him laugh softly in my ear:

"Academic whore."

After that, I saw less and less of him.

And he spent more and more time with her—the genius campus beauty who was smarter and prettier than me.

When I tried to plan something for his birthday, all I got was a jab:

"I haven't put you on any papers lately. I wouldn't dare let you do anything for me."

I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene.

I canceled the internship he'd arranged for me at a top hospital.

And I changed my work location to Southridge—over a thousand miles away from him.

...

After his roommate told me Grayson hadn't come back to the dorm by midnight, I tracked him down at a private KTV room.

The moment I opened the door, the music cut out.

The room was packed with people from Grayson and Michelle Simmons' social circle.

I barely recognized any of them.

But they all seemed to know exactly who I was.

Someone raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle.

"Well, well. Grayson, your little wife's here to pick you up."

"Tsk! Braving the snow in the middle of the night, soup in hand to sober you up—so thoughtful. What's the ask this time? A couple more papers?"

"If you ask me, marriage should be between equals. Our Michelle here is prettier and smarter. Isn't she a better match?"

Michelle laughed and swatted the guy's shoulder. "Oh, stop it!"

Grayson's eyes were faintly red from the alcohol. He smiled at their comments.

He didn't say a word in my defense.

I gripped the container of soup tighter.

"Grayson. Are you coming or not?"

He turned to Michelle with a lazy smile. "Should I go?"

She gave him a playful shove. "Don't drag me into this! She's your girlfriend. Listen to her!"

"Alright." He stood up. "Whatever you say."

Michelle's cheeks flushed.

I clenched my jaw.

I'd driven here in Grayson's car.

Grayson's talent for medicine was extraordinary. He'd been recruited by Northbridge University School of Medicine before he even took the college entrance exam. Before graduation, he already had offers from multiple institutions wanting him as faculty.

Over the years, collaborators had showered him with resources and wealth. The boy who once shared a backpack with me now wanted for nothing.

The Audi A6 in front of me was the least impressive thing he owned.

I was about to get into the driver's seat when he grabbed my arm.

"Call a driver."

"Why?"

"You're too dumb. Think you can handle this car?"

Half-drunk, he pulled out his phone to request a designated driver, then flashed me a smile.

"I'd like to live a little longer, thanks."

I snapped. "I drove myself here!"

"Did you? So smart, but you still need your boyfriend to carry you on his papers?"

I bit down hard. "If you didn't want to, I'll give it back!"

"Give it back how?"

He leaned in close. Those familiar eyes held a softness I once knew—and a contempt I didn't.

"You're not Michelle. What, you think you can publish in a top journal?"

I had nothing to say.

The gap between Michelle and me wasn't just academic.

Michelle's father was the dean of a major hospital.

My parents worked the early-morning shift at a wet market.

Never mind that their vegetable sales had paid for Grayson's first semester of tuition.

Times had changed.

After the driver dropped us off, I called my parents, swallowing back everything I wanted to say.