I've Coveted You Forever

Chapter 8 Being Over Dramatic?

"This can't be real, Eleanor. You said you loved me—you promised to marry me to help me secure my position in the Ashton family," Julian said, his eyes bloodshot and teary, acting as if I was the one who had betrayed him.

During our relationship, he'd told me countless times about the other family members and shareholders gunning for his position, how scared he was of losing everything he'd worked for.

I'd loved him then, so I'd promised to marry him and strengthen his hold on the company—never imagining he would be the one to break our trust first.

Those old promises felt hollow and mocking now, a painful reminder of how badly I'd been fooled.

"I did say that once, Julian. But I've changed my mind," I said firmly, standing tall and stepping closer to Finn.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek deliberately, right in front of Julian. "Finn is a far better investment than you could ever be."

Julian's eyes blazed with rage, so hot I thought he might burn a hole through me. "Stop being ridiculous, Eleanor. Barry is a man—what I have with him isn't cheating. He's not even upset, so why are you?"

I almost couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

In his twisted mind, I didn't even have the right to be angry about his betrayal.

Julian was truly the most selfish, cruel man I'd ever met.

"I don't do third wheels, Julian. I'm out—I'm letting you go to be with your precious man. There are over three billion men in the world. You were never more than a minor choice to me, anyway," I said, my tone sharp and unforgiving.

Julian was shocked by my resolve; he'd never imagined the woman who'd been head over heels for him would walk away so easily.

"Fine, Eleanor. Take a few days to calm down, then come find me when you're done throwing your fit," Julian said, still convinced I was just being dramatic and would come crawling back.

'That is the thing about people who don't love you—they never see your pain. To him, I can be on the verge of breaking, and he'll think I am just being over dramatic.'

I left Finn's villa immediately and headed straight to my family's company.

I was buried in a pile of neglected paperwork from the past few days when another viral headline popped up on my phone, making me pause.

The caption: Coston City Socialite Lyla Morrow Caught Partying With Gigolos Late At Night; Perfect Socialite Image Exposed As Fake.

The attached video showed a drunk Lyla smoking and making out with a group of men on the street, acting like a completely different person from the polished, perfect socialite she pretended to be.

Lyla had attended elite socialite classes for years, faking a sophisticated, wealthy image to attract the rich heirs of Coston City, hiding how empty and unrefined she truly was beneath the surface.

I couldn't lie—seeing her taken down a peg felt incredibly satisfying.

We were distant cousins, and my father had done the Morrow family a huge favor, giving them a branch of our family business to run and help them get on their feet.

But once they found success, they betrayed us, secretly partnering with our rivals and breaking off to start their own company.

From that day on, Lyla made it her mission to compete with me, trying to outdo me in every way possible.

The Morrow family had used the Sterling name for years to build connections and take bribes, and once they were powerful enough, they openly fought against us for clients and deals.

Unfortunately for them, they'd invested in dying industries, and all their scheming had only left them barely scraping by.

Lyla had come to my engagement party looking for a wealthy husband or a new connection, and when she didn't find it, she'd taken her frustration out on me.

I watched the trending post climb higher and higher, then locked my phone and went back to work, focused on my own priorities.

Half an hour later, the office door burst open, and Lyla stormed in, fuming.

"Eleanor Sterling, get out here! All because I said a few things at your engagement party, you had to buy those fake headlines to ruin me? Do you even care that I'm your cousin?" she shouted, standing tall in her high heels and designer suit, looking down her nose at me with contempt.

I looked up from my desk, calm and unimpressed. "Oh, now you remember you're my cousin? You didn't seem to care when your family stole our business, or when you mocked me in front of everyone at my own engagement party."

I leaned back in my office chair, staring at her steadily, unimpressed by her fake outrage.

"And for the record, you think too highly of yourself. I would never waste my money buying a headline about you. You're not worth the effort. You should spend less time throwing a fit here and more time figuring out who you actually offended to deserve this," I said, a subtle hint she was too stubborn to pick up on.

Furious and unable to argue, Lyla raised her hand and slapped me across the face, ready to attack without hesitation.