Wrong Key to My Heart

For seven years, I've kept my identity hidden while secretly helping my girlfriend, Natasha Doyle, become one of the top designers in the world.

A major design awards ceremony is being held tonight. My plan is to reveal my real identity and propose to her after she receives the award.

But then, I see her walking up on stage, hand-in-hand with Connor Gibson, her partner in the design studio.

"All of Natasha's accomplishments are the result of my hard work and effort," Connor proudly declares.

Natasha smiles and nods in agreement. "Without him, I wouldn't be the person I am now."

Thunderous applause rings from the crowd. The camera flashes keep going off.

I stand in the corner, my heart in despair.

As I walk out of the venue, I make a call. "Cut off all the funding and investments into Natasha's studio. Don't help her with the patent infringement lawsuit either. Let her deal with the legal consequences herself."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Mr. Langley?" My assistant, Walter Moore, sounded rather worried over the phone.

He continued, "Ms. Doyle just signed a performance-based contract with Galaxis. If we pull the investment now, her studio will go under. And if we don't resolve the patent infringement lawsuit, she could go to prison."

I stared at the neon lights outside the window, my heart completely unmoved.

Natasha Doyle and I had been together for seven years now. Not once had she ever acknowledged our relationship in public.

She told me, "Once I've made something of myself, I'll tell the whole world that you're mine."

How many times had she repeated that to me?

Because of that promise, I used all of my family's resources to help her go from being an unknown designer to an internationally acclaimed one.

Yet, all I got in return was her betrayal.

"Carry out my orders," I said to Walter. "No more hesitation."

After I ended the call, I heard the sound of heels rushing urgently toward me from behind.

"Where did you go?" Natasha called out to me, slightly out of breath. "Where's my acceptance speech? And what's going on with you today?"

"I didn't prepare a speech to announce your relationship with Connor Gibson," I said coolly.

Natasha's expression stiffened, but she simply scoffed at me. "Are you jealous? That's just a marketing strategy! Don't you get it? Besides, I have Connor to thank for the studio becoming what it is today. He's the one who got me all the clients, resources, and production support."

Oh, the irony.

Previously, to keep my involvement a secret, I got Michael Wagner, a subordinate of mine, to act as my middleman and provide everything Natasha needed.

But now, she claimed it was all thanks to that bastard, Connor.

"I'm going home." I didn't want to say another word to her.

Once I was home, my phone buzzed. Connor sent me a video of him having dinner with Natasha's parents at the Doyle residence.