My Fiancee Stole My Billion-Dollar Project

After Celine Anderson let her newly-promoted assistant take credit for my billion-dollar project for the ninth time, I handed in my resignation letter.

I also refused to show up in the same place as her.

Whenever she was interviewed by talk shows as a public figure, I would switch off all the screens in the building.

I also got the security guard to stop her from entering even if she brought me a cup of coffee in the middle of a tornado.

To see me, she purposely rescheduled three virtual meetings with foreign companies. So, I immediately bought air tickets to leave the country.

I blocked her everywhere and formatted the hard disk that contained all of our memories from the past decade.

When I was twenty, I studied with her in the university library. When I was twenty-five, I ate the cheapest bread with her when she first started her company. When I was thirty, I finally knew how to let go of things that no longer serve me.

On the ninth time I was accused of sleeping my way up, I came across a photo of her and her assistant kissing. Meanwhile, I was sitting at our dining table with food that had turned cold.

It turned out that our decade-long relationship had been a joke.

However, it was fine. It was not too late to come to my senses.

“Ms. Anderson, there are rumors claiming you owe the miraculous success of your company to Oscar Smith, the former chief analyst. What do you have to say about that?”

With her shocking business growth, Celine had become the youngest person to grace the cover of a financial magazine as “Person of the year.”

When she was asked about her relationship with me, she smiled gracefully at the camera.

“He used to be my employee, but he’s left the company.

“As for the rumor that I’m his fiancee, I hope everyone minds their own business and stops being delusional.”

It was already nighttime. I leaned against the couch and stared at the clock.

Four hours had already passed, but Celine did not call me at all.

A day ago, her company’s market capitalization had hit the billion-dollar mark.

She was extremely joyous as she hugged me. She said that I was her lucky star and that she wanted to formally announce our engagement during tonight’s forum.

I was extremely delighted when I heard that.

I had asked her nine times before to announce our relationship. She always agreed, but then, she would come up with excuses after that.

It was the first time she had brought it up on her own.

I was hopeful when I prepared her speech for her. However, the next day, she delivered a fatal blow to me in front of all the mainstream media.

She also included her assistant’s photo on the company’s founder webpage and announced my departure.

My phone screen kept lighting up on the table. The topic of a poor man’s