I Helped Him Get Into an Elite University—Then He Dumped Me Before Day One Chapter 08

I Helped Him Get Into an Elite University—Then He Dumped Me Before Day One Chapter 08

He looked at Chloe in disbelief, then snapped back toward me, his eyes filled with the raw devastation of someone who felt completely deceived and betrayed. 

The bouquet of roses he had so carefully prepared slipped from his loosened hand. 

It hit the floor with a sharp smack, and bright petals scattered across the lobby. 

“You…” 

His throat worked hard as he fought to force the words out, still clinging to one last shred of doubt, one last 

refusal to accept what he had heard. 

“Claire… did you really take fifty million from my 

mother back then?” 

“All the things you did for me… were they really just about money from beginning to end?” 

He shoved my parents aside while they were still 

screaming about the money, then stumbled toward me. 

His eyes were red, glistening as if tears might spill over 

at any moment, and when he spoke again, his voice 

cracked with something close to despair. 

“Tell me. All that concern, all those notes, everything 

you did for me – was it all fake? Was it all for the 

money? Answer me.” 

The lobby had gone completely silent. Every eye was on 

  1. me. 

I did not explain myself. I did not get angry. Not even the slightest ripple crossed my face. 

I simply met his red–rimmed eyes in silence. 

Then, under everyone’s gaze, with Adrian staring at me as if his whole world were hanging by a thread, I gave the slightest nod. 

“Yes.” 

That single word shattered the last light in his eyes. 

He staggered back a step, his face drained white, as if 

every ounce of strength had been ripped out of him in 

an instant. 

“So there was never anything real? Not even a little? 

You never liked me at all?” 

I answered him honestly. 

“I did.” 

“But the moment you started making a joke out of me, 

I realized you were never worthy of that feeling.” 

I did not look at him again, and I did not spare my 

raving parents a glance either. 

I called security and had every last one of them 

escorted out. 

As expected, my parents had no intention of giving up 

on me now that they had decided I was their personal cash machine. 

At first it was the usual flood of nonstop calls and 

abusive messages. 

Then, somehow, they rounded up a few tabloid livestreamers and had them camp outside my office building, phones raised, broadcasting the whole. 

spectacle online. 

“International star designer Claire Bennett turns her 

back on the parents who raised her and pockets fifty 

million for herself!” 

After that, they even ran to women’s groups and 

community service offices, sobbing that I thought I 

was too good for my own family. 

Soon enough, the internet filled with people who knew 

nothing about the truth yet felt perfectly entitled to 

curse me for it. 

Unfortunately for them, they had badly 

underestimated me. 

I was no longer the little girl they could beat down and 

control at will. 

My legal team responded immediately, issuing sharply 

worded cease–and–desist letters and public 

statements, then quickly filing the relevant evidence 

with the court. 

At the same time, the professional PR firm I had 

retained began steering public opinion back toward the facts. 

The most devastating part of the counterattack came from the witnesses I brought in. 

My high school homeroom teacher gave a detailed account of how my parents had tried to sabotage my education at every turn. 

Several older neighbors who had watched me grow up also testified to the long–term abuse I had suffered at home since childhood. 

One of the women from the neighborhood slammed her hand on the table and said furiously, “It was 

monstrous. Claire wasn’t even eighteen yet when her parents tried to sell her off for money to some widower from the next town over. That man was older than her own father. If that girl hadn’t been smart enough to run, her life would have been ruined.” 

On top of that, the forensic injury reports documenting 

the scars on my body were undeniable proof. 

Public opinion flipped almost overnight. 

In the end, I legally severed all ties with them and, for 

the first time in my life, became truly free.

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