His Billion-Dollar Lie Broke Me, His Truth Destroyed Him

During a destination wedding shoot, the bride kept complaining to me.

Can you believe how clingy men can be? We already did one wedding shoot, but he wasn't satisfied. He insisted on flying me all the way to Switzerland for another.

He even prepared so many designer gowns. Doesn't he get tired of posing?

As she spoke, the girl pulled up the photos on her phone to show me.

My eyes swept across the groom's familiar face, and I froze right where I stood.

It wasn't until I saw the groom's name on the itinerary that I finally let out a breath. Julian Vance. My boyfriend's twin brother.

Years ago, when their parents got a messy divorce, Julian went with their father and became the sole heir to a massive Los Angeles real estate empire.

Meanwhile, Ethan, who stayed with their mother, was just an ordinary clerk living paycheck to paycheck, barely earning enough to get by.

Just last month, Ethan claimed he had rear-ended a Porsche while driving his boss's car. He had to drain our entire joint savings, the money we had saved for our future house and wedding, to pay for the damages.

I pushed down my envy, forcing myself to smile, about to offer some polite congratulations.

But then, my eyes caught a behind-the-scenes photo. The man was wearing silk pajamas, and his collar was slightly parted, revealing a crescent-shaped burn scar near his collarbone.

It was identical to the scar my boyfriend, Ethan, had gotten three years ago when he pulled me out of a kitchen fire.

The dressing room door was pushed open. Julian walked in. He naturally walked over to Scarlett's side, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Are you done with your makeup, babe? If we wait any longer, we'll miss the sunrise over the Alps."

He looked up and met my eyes. In that split second, I saw him freeze.

It was just a momentary flicker of panic, but in that instant, I knew. He was Ethan.

There was no divorced twin brother. There was only a bored, rich heir who liked to play pretend, pretending to be poor just to mess with me.

Julian quickly averted his gaze, his face turning cold and composed again.

"Photographer, get ready."

I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to scream and demand answers. I raised my camera, staying professional.

How pathetic. Confronted with such a devastating truth, my very first thought wasn't even to cause a scene. It was that I couldn't afford to lose this job.

In the dressing room, only Scarlett's playful, spoiled complaints echoed.

"Didn't you take a whole month off work just to accompany me for this shoot? I don't believe today is the only day we'll get a sunrise."

Julian gently patted her head with pure adoration. "Alright. Whatever you want."

My mind flashed back to a month ago. I had sent Ethan a screenshot of our savings account.

I was so happy when I texted him:

"Ethan, I've worked out the budget. We don't need a fancy wedding shoot, and we don't need to go to the mountains. This money is enough for our marriage license and the down payment on a small apartment!"

But all I got in return, thirty minutes later, was a notification showing our account balance had been wiped to zero.

Ethan had come home looking completely devastated.

He told me he had crashed into a Porsche, and all our money had to go toward the deductible and out-of-pocket settlement.

I had to suppress my own crushing disappointment, forcing a smile to comfort him.

"It's okay. Money can be remade. We'll save up again, slowly."

That night, he held my hand and promised:

"Chloe, the company has a project out of town for a month. Once I get the bonus, I'll make it up to you."

So, this was his "out-of-town project." Marrying another woman.

My heart grew colder by the second, but my hands holding the camera remained steady.

I kept clicking the shutter. Soon, the first shoot was over.

Passing by a boutique luxury store, Scarlett's eyes lit up. She abandoned our shooting schedule and rushed inside to try on jewelry.

At checkout, Julian casually signaled his assistant. "Buy everything she tried on."

Scarlett giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I was just playing around. Why did you buy them all?"

"As long as you like it."

A wave of bitter memories flooded my chest.

Ethan used to hate it when I spent money.

For our anniversary last year, I had merely suggested wanting a simple silver bracelet as a gift.

He had stood right outside the store, his face instantly darkening.

"Chloe, can you stop trying to keep up with the Joneses? We are trying to build a life here. We can't afford to waste money on useless things."

The gift he ended up getting me was a single, discounted cupcake from the grocery store.

It was strawberry flavored. He didn't even remember that I was allergic to strawberries.

Scarlett rummaged through the shopping bags, pulled out a pair of promotional gemstone earrings, and handed them to me. "Thanks for your hard work today. Here, a gift for you."

Julian frowned.

"Look at how she dresses. She looks so plain. She can't pull off those kinds of flashy earrings. Don't waste them on her."

Scarlett hugged her shopping bags, her voice sassy. "I don't care. I already decided to give them to her."

Julian looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just tugged at his shirt cuffs.

I knew that gesture. It was his signature sign of extreme impatience.

Whenever we argued in the past and he made that gesture, I would immediately back down and apologize.

But this time, the one who backed down was Julian.

He glanced at me, his eyes freezing cold. "She gave them to you. Why aren't you taking them?"

I didn't say a word. I just stiffly reached out and took the bag.

As I turned to follow Scarlett's steps, my foot slipped on the uneven cobblestone step, and I stumbled violently.

I didn't dare let go of the camera to grab the railing. All I could do was use my body to shield the twenty-thousand-dollar equipment.

In the next second, a strong pair of hands firmly caught my waist, pulling me against a hard chest.

Julian frowned, his tone sharp with irritation.

"Can't you even walk straight?"

Before I could speak,

Scarlett turned around. Her eyes locked onto Julian's hands, which were still wrapped around my waist.

"Well, look at you, playing the knight in shining armor."

I quickly pushed myself away from him, bowing deeply. "I am so sorry, Mr. Vance. It was my mistake."

He clearly had no intention of letting me off easy. His words were cutting.

"Then pack up your things and get lost. We don't need you here."

My colleague wanted to plead on my behalf, but I stopped them.

Without another word, I handed over the camera memory cards, went back to the hotel, and immediately packed my bags.

The next morning, I stood in the lobby with my suitcase, ready to head to the airport.

But as soon as the elevator doors opened, I saw Julian standing near the entrance. He was wearing his cheap, worn-out clothes.

His hair was messy from the wind, looking as though he had traveled a long distance in a rush.

"Chloe."

The moment he saw me, he ran over.

"My business trip got rerouted to Switzerland. I noticed you weren't answering my Snapchat messages. I was worried you were having a hard time here, so I came to check on you."

Looking into those eyes full of fake concern and tenderness, I felt a sudden urge to laugh.

Every single bit of misery I was experiencing was caused by him.

Yet, he could stand here so effortlessly, playing the role of the worried, loving boyfriend.

I couldn't hold back the bitterness in my throat anymore. I uttered his real name:

"Julian Vance."

His expression didn't change, but his brow furrowed deeper.

"What are you talking about, Chloe?"

"Julian Vance. The heir to the Vance empire,"

I said, word by word.

"Scarlett's fianc. There is no twin brother. There was only ever you. You got bored of your rich life, found a regular girl, played the poor boy, and lied to me for three whole years."

His pupils dilated slightly.

"When did you find out?"

"Yesterday." My eyes fell on his chest. "I saw your scar."

He fell silent for a few seconds, his throat bobbing.

"Chloe, I can explain..."

I looked at him calmly. "Please step aside, sir. I have a flight to catch."

Just then, a sharp, familiar voice rang out behind us.

"Julian?"

The elevator door opened again. Scarlett stood there, her hair disheveled, clearly having just woken up.

Her gaze darted from Julian's cheap clothes to me, and her face twisted in rage.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Julian turned to her, his voice immediately softening. "Scarlett, go back to your room. I'll explain everything in a minute."

"Explain what?!"

"Julian, I canceled all my modeling gigs for this shoot. You said you wanted to do this, so I came. You said you needed a month, so I gave you a month. And what do you do? You're hooking up with a cheap photographer behind my back?!"

"No, Scarlett, it's not..."

Scarlett didn't let him finish. She furiously threw her phone at the floor.

"Then why were you holding her waist yesterday? Why are you here in her hotel lobby first thing in the morning?!"

Tears streamed down her face, her voice shrieking.

"Have you two been sleeping together?!"

The hotel staff and guests in the lobby all turned to look at us.

I stood there, instinctively trying to de-escalate. "Miss Scarlett, you've got it wrong..."

"Shut up!"

Scarlett whipped her head around, her eyes burning with pure hatred.

"I am talking to my fianc! Who gave a peasant like you the right to speak? You cheap whore, trying to steal another woman's man. Have you no shame?!"

Before I could react, she lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face.

I couldn't dodge in time. The sharp diamonds on her acrylic nails ripped across my left cheek.

A stinging, burning pain flared up.

Something warm and wet began to trickle down my cheek.

"Enough!"

Julian grabbed Scarlett's wrist, pulling her back into his arms.

"I will handle this. Go back to your room right now."

Scarlett's lips trembled, but she didn't argue further.

Julian turned to the bodyguards standing behind her. "Take her back upstairs. And get a doctor to check on her face."

"Her."

He meant me.

Then, he wrapped his arm around Scarlett's shoulders, whispering something soothing into her ear as they walked back toward the elevator.

From beginning to end, Julian never looked back at me once.

A bodyguard stepped in front of me, his face expressionless. "Miss, please come with us."

I gripped my suitcase, wanting to push past him, but two more towering guards blocked my path, forcing me back into my hotel room.

By the second day of my confinement in the hotel, a viral post about me blew up online.

The poster claimed to be Scarlett's close friend. They wrote a long, detailed "expose" post.

The post claimed Julian and Scarlett were childhood sweethearts with a long-standing family arrangement, and that I had tried to seduce Julian during their romantic wedding shoot, only to be caught red-handed.

The comment section was filled with pure toxicity.

"Homewrecker," "gold-digger," "disgusting whore." The insults were endless.

Someone even doxed my personal information and my photography studio's address. People started calling the studio, leaving death threats.

Fearing the PR backlash, my boss sent me a termination letter via email.

I wanted to defend myself, but I didn't even know where to start.

Say that I didn't seduce him? Say that we had been together for three years, and that he had lied to me from day one?

Who would believe a broke photographer over a billionaire heir?

I turned off my phone and sat on the bed in silence for hours.

On the third day, my phone rang. It was my mother.

"Chloe, I saw the things online. Your grandma saw them too... she had a panic attack and was rushed to the hospital."

"The doctor said she needs urgent heart surgery. The deposit is twenty thousand dollars. I've emptied my accounts, but we're still way short. Can you find a way?"

Twenty thousand dollars.

For me, that was an astronomical amount.

I forced down my panic, transferring the last few hundred dollars in my account to her.

"Mom, I'm coming home right now. Don't panic, I'll find a way to borrow the money."

After hanging up, I frantically started making calls.

Friends, college roommates, former clients... I called everyone in my contact list.

"Sorry, Chloe, I just paid my rent..."

"I'm a bit tight this month..."

"Chloe, your name is dirt on the internet right now. If I associate with you, I'll get canceled too. I can't help you."

After making over twenty calls, I managed to scrape together less than a thousand dollars.

Clinging to my last shred of hope, I sent Julian a Snapchat message.

"Let me go. My grandma is in the hospital. I need money."

The message was marked as read.

No reply.

I sent another: "I'm begging you."

Still, read but no reply.

I called his phone. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up.

He only said one thing: "I'm busy right now, we'll talk later," and hung up.

In the second before the call cut off, I heard Scarlett's breathless voice in the background:

"Julian, don't think this means I've forgiven you yet..."

In the early hours of the next morning, I received a text from my mother.

My grandmother had passed away.

I sat on the bed like a hollow shell, unable to cry, unable to feel.

I just stared blankly at the screen.

Was any of this real?

I was just an ordinary girl. I had no grand ambitions. I had worked hard, saving every penny with the man I loved.

My family had supported us.

We were supposed to get married. We were supposed to be happy.

At three in the afternoon, the door finally unlocked.

Julian walked in. He was wearing a bespoke designer suit. A single cufflink on his sleeve cost more than my entire life's savings.

He reached out to touch my hand, but I flinched back.

"Chloe, I was dealing with Scarlett's family yesterday. I didn't mean to ignore your calls."

Julian rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted, as if he had truly worked all night to resolve the crisis.

But right beneath his collar, there were faint, unmistakable hickeys.

I laughed, though tears spilled over my eyelashes.

"Julian, you lied to me for three years. Are you still trying to lie to me now?"

"I'm tired. I don't want to be your toy anymore. Please, just let me go."

Julian stepped closer, panic flaring in his eyes. "I never saw you as a toy!"

"Then what was I to you?!"

My voice cracked, and I screamed hysterically.

"You locked me in this room for six days! My grandma was dying in a hospital bed waiting for money to save her life, and you couldn't even reply to a single text! What was I to you?!"

He fell silent.

For a very long time, he couldn't say a word.

Finally, only three words slipped from his lips: "I am sorry."

My blood ran cold.

"Did you do this?"

"No, it wasn't me," he said, looking at me desperately. "It was Scarlett. She was the one who had those articles posted. She sent people to show the posts to your grandmother to trigger her illness. She also blocked your family from getting loans."

Scarlett.

A girl who had everything, yet because of a petty tantrum, she decided to destroy my entire life.

"And you knew about all of this?"

He didn't deny it.

I could hear my own voice trembling. "You knew everything, and you did nothing."

"I did! The moment I found out, I sent my people to handle the hospital. I already wired the surgery money to your mother's account."

"It was just... too late."

"Yeah. Because while all of this was happening, you were busy in her bed. How could you possibly have made it in time?"

A sharp ringing echoed in my ears. My body moved before my brain could think.

By the time I snapped out of it, my hand had already slapped him across the face. A bright red mark bloomed on Julian's cheek.

He didn't dodge.

All the strength drained from my body, and I collapsed onto the floor, consumed by bitter self-loathing.

It was all my fault.

I was so pathetic, so stupid. Julian was a prominent figure; he had appeared on the cover of Forbes and financial news channels multiple times.

But every time he showed me those articles, he would spin a sob story about his hatred for his father and his "evil twin brother":

"I hate my brother. He knew what a monster our father was, but he still chose the money and abandoned our mother."

And I, like an idiot, had believed every single word of his poorly written script.

The room fell into a suffocating silence, save for my ragged breathing.

"Julian, we're done. Don't ever show your face to me again."

His expression finally cracked.

"No."

He grabbed my arm, his eyes filled with desperation and struggle.

"Chloe, listen to me. I don't love Scarlett, and I have no intention of marrying her. Once our family's joint venture is complete and I take full control of the Vance Group, I will call off the engagement."

Just then, his phone vibrated.

He glanced down.

It was a message from Scarlett.

I couldn't see the text, but I saw how quickly his emotional panic turned back into cold calculation.

"Chloe, I have to handle something. Stay here. I'll be back for you later."

With that, he turned to leave.

The moment he unlocked the door, I made a desperate dash for the exit.

"Chloe!"

His reflexes were too fast. He grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

I thrashed violently, but his grip was like iron.

In the struggle, he yanked me hard. I lost my balance and fell forward, my lower abdomen slamming violently against the sharp wooden corner of the nightstand.

In that instant, a blinding, white-hot pain tore through my body.

I curled into a ball on the floor, clutching my stomach as cold sweat drenched my forehead.

In my blurred state of mind, I suddenly remembered that I had missed my period for the past two months.

A terrifying realization hit me. I gasped, begging him.

"Julian... please... take me to the hospital..."

But he didn't even turn around. He just threw a cold sentence over his shoulder: "Chloe, stop acting. I won't let you use this as an excuse to leave me."

The door slammed shut.

The click of the lock echoed through the quiet room like a death knell.

His footsteps faded away down the corridor.

The pain in my abdomen intensified. Warm blood began to seep out, running down my thighs.

I looked down and saw blood, dark red, spreading across the beige carpet.

My consciousness started to fade. The harsh white light above me dimmed, and everything went black.