The Heir's Secret

I suspected my boyfriend was being kept by a sugar mama.
He was handsome enough. And poor enough. And lately, he'd been cold enough.
But the real reason? That night I accidentally saw his phone: a woman saved as “Sugar Mama” had sent him twenty thousand dollars in “pocket money.”
I gave his photo to a private investigator. I wanted hard evidence so I could get back the money I'd scrimped and saved to support him for the past three years.
But the PI looked so terrified he almost fell to his knees.
“Please, ma'am, let me off the hook. This guy… who in their right mind would dare to investigate him?”

1
Ten days into suspecting my boyfriend was cheating, I found myself in a private investigator's office.
I slid my phone across the table toward him, my lips pressed into a thin line as I tried to swallow the bitter knot in my throat. “This is all I have of their chat history. The rest… they must delete it regularly.”
The PI picked up the phone and glanced at the screenshot I’d taken last night. It wasn’t much, just a single page. And it was all one-sided, from “Sugar Mama.”
【Are you done with your little tantrum?】
【I sent you twenty thousand in pocket money. Is that enough to soothe your wounded little soul?】
【You have to come see me tomorrow!】
【You heartless boy, don't you miss me at all?】
【I must have owed you in a past life to be stuck with a troublemaker like you!】
He raised an eyebrow, a look of bored familiarity on his face. He didn't ask any follow-up questions. "So, Ms. Miller, how can I help you?"
I managed a small, brittle smile, my eyes cast downward to hide the sting of tears. My fingers twisted the hem of my skirt. "I need you to get irrefutable proof of their affair. Something that would ruin their reputations if it ever got out. He's a nobody with nothing to lose, but a rich woman like that must care about her image."
"He wants to climb the social ladder, fine. I respect that. But I spent three years pinching every penny to support him. I want that money back."
Only with the money in hand could I allow myself to break down completely.
"The next picture is of him."
The PI gave me a surprised, almost appreciative look. He swiped the screen.
"Let's see what kind of stud could hook a sugar ma— Holy shit!"
The phone clattered onto the table. The color drained from the PI's face, and he recoiled, pressing himself back into his chair as if he’d seen a ghost. He stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Are you insane? Why are you showing me a picture of him?"

2
I blinked, my first thought being that I’d sent the wrong photo. I leaned over to check. No, that was him.
“What’s wrong with the picture? That’s my boyfriend.”
The handsome, broke guy who had nothing left but his good looks after crashing into my scooter three years ago and breaking his leg. The accident was how we met, how we fell in love. He was the boyfriend who had lived with me in a tiny, cheap apartment for three years, the one who squeezed onto crowded subways with me and fought for discount vegetables at the grocery store.
Lately, he’d been using "busy with work" as an excuse to leave early and come home late, growing distant and cold. He was always hiding his phone, a storm of secrets brewing behind his eyes. The boyfriend I suspected was now cheating on me with a sugar mama.
Leo Anderson.
"What?!" The PI's expression was one of pure incredulity. His gaze shifted, becoming strange and speculative. "Lady, are you messing with me? Are you some gold digger so desperate to marry into wealth that you've lost your mind?"
"That's Leo Anderson! The heir to the Anderson fortune, the number one playboy in this city. You think he's your boyfriend? The guy's worth billions! The number of women throwing themselves at him… you couldn't count them on two hands! He needs to 'climb the social ladder'? Be 'kept by a sugar mama'? What are you even thinking?"
He pushed my unlocked phone back across the table, his eyes flicking to Leo's picture with growing annoyance. "You can see yourself out. We don't touch this guy. And I suggest you go get your head checked."

3
Before I went to the PI, I had prepared myself for every possibility.
He was bored of me and wanted to break up. He’d fallen for someone else. He was tired of being poor and wanted a richer life.
For each scenario, I was ready for a clean, dignified ending.
But I had never, ever considered this.
The three years we’d spent struggling together felt so real. How could I have known he was a top-tier trust fund baby, a notorious playboy who ran in the most elite circles?
So, after leaving the investigator's office, I did something I rarely do. I splurged on a cab and went straight to The Sovereign, the most exclusive private club in the city.
It was the place the “Sugar Mama” had demanded Leo meet her last night.
I didn't have a plan. I just wanted… to ask why. I wanted a clean break, a quick and painless end.
“Leo, come on, man. Before your mother gets here, let us apologize.”
“It’s not that we didn’t want to help you back then. But your old man gave strict orders to cut you off and teach you a lesson. Our hands were tied!”
“But you gotta admit, you’re a sly one. Your dad cut off all your funds, but he forgot about that pretty face of yours. Who would’ve thought you’d use your looks to snag a Cinderella who’d do anything for you?”
“Forget experiencing hardship. Looks to me like you’ve been living the good life these past three years!”
My hand froze on the door handle. I stood there, stunned, as their voices drifted out. An icy chill crept up my spine, freezing me in place.
“But seriously, it’s been a month since your dad’s three-year ban was lifted. Why are you still sulking and not coming home?”
“Yeah! Your mom called all of us here today just to get you to come back. You’re not actually planning to stay in that shithole apartment instead of your family’s mansion, are you?”
“What’s up? Did you actually fall for the girl? Ready to settle down? Looks like your dad’s plan actually wor—”
"Bullshit," Leo's voice, laced with resentment, cut through the chatter.
"Ava is living proof of the most humiliating three years of my life. I can't wait to get rid of her and go back to my real life. But a poor girl like her… if she finds out who I really am, she’ll latch on and never let go. It's better to just… fade out. I'll give her a chunk of money when we break up, pay her back for taking care of me."

4
The warmth drained from my body. The room was blasting heat, enough to make me sweat in my down jacket, but I had never felt so cold. A deep, bone-chilling cold.
Everything I hadn’t understood was now painfully clear. The question of “why” finally had its answer.
I touched my cheek and my fingers came away wet. I hadn't even realized I was crying.
"Miss? Are you looking for someone? Why are you crying?" A gentle voice asked from beside me. A woman in an elegant dress was looking at me with concern.
The moment our eyes met, she gasped. "You're… Ava?"
The conversation inside the room stopped abruptly. Less than a minute later, the door was thrown open.
Leo stood there, his face a mask of panic. "Ava? What are you—"
His eyes fell on the woman behind me, and his frantic expression froze. The hand he'd started to reach for me stopped mid-air. After a tense moment, it retreated, clenching into a fist at his side.
His voice was heavy. "You brought her here?" he asked his mother.
"No, it's a complete coincidence," Mrs. Anderson said with a soft, gentle smile. "But I've known about Ava for a long time. When your son is out 'finding himself,' a mother is going to keep tabs. I was actually quite pleased you were in a serious relationship for these three years. I thought you were just waiting for your father and me to extend an olive branch. Turns out, you were the one who couldn't find a way to step down gracefully."
A bitter taste filled my mouth. I looked up at the man who was both a stranger and the person I knew most intimately.
I forced a smile. "You know, Mr. Anderson, you really didn't have to go through all the trouble of freezing me out. A poor girl like me might be greedy, but I know my place. As long as the money's right, I guarantee I'll disappear without a fuss."

5
I took a deep breath and wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand. I tried to sound casual.
"Let’s say, rent and living expenses for one year… fifty thousand dollars. Is that fair?"

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