Chapter 1

Tags: A-List Actor Boyfriend, Class Divide, Secret Pregnancy & Escape, Groveling Ex-Lover

My boyfriend was an A-list movie star.

Yet, I never dared go public with our relationship.

Simply because I was just a nobody sculpting clay figures at a weekend flea market.

After scrimping and saving for an entire month to buy him an anniversary gift, I opened my phone only to see the breaking news: he had been spotted checking into a luxury hotel with an Oscar-winning actress.

Every major outlet was fighting to cover their high-profile romance.

Meanwhile, I, his actual girlfriend, was left forgotten in a dusty corner.

When I tried to reach him for an explanation, he merely had his manager hand me a check.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I quietly took the money, packed my things, and vanished with his unborn child.

"Hey! Can you make Julian Vance?"

"Yes, please! The Julian Vance! The hottest actor in Hollywood right now!"

Under the string lights of the weekend flea market, a group of teenage girls crowded around my booth, giggling and chatting excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat.

My fingers nearly lost their grip on the sculpting clay.

"Sure," I replied with a warm smile, feeling a secret, sweet rush of warmth blooming in my chest.

That was my boyfriend.

A man hidden behind the blinding glare of the spotlight, belonging only to me when the cameras stopped rolling.

I closed my eyes, and his unguarded face surfaced effortlessly in my mind.

The faint curve of his lips when he teased me, the tiny mole near the corner of his eye, and the starlight reflected in his gaze whenever he looked down at me.

My wooden carving tool danced, breathing life into the soft polymer clay.

Within ten minutes, a miniature cartoon version of Julian—dressed in a crisp white shirt, his eyes brimming with a gentle smile—stood perched on a wooden dowel.

"Oh my god! It looks just like him!"

"Those eyes! That smirk! It’s literally Julian in real life!"

The girls squealed, pulling out their phones to snap pictures of the figurine.

Suddenly, one of them shoved her screen right in front of my face, her voice dripping with teenage bragging rights.

"Look at this! Someone just leaked this exclusive candid photo an hour ago!"

On the glowing display, Julian had his arm wrapped snugly around a woman’s waist as they stepped out of the front entrance of a five-star hotel.

The woman wore dark sunglasses, but I recognized that face instantly.

Award-winning actress, Nicole Parker.

The headline blared in bold red text:

*Reunited After Years Apart? Julian Vance and His Oscar-Winning Ex Caught Returning to His Penthouse Late Last Night!*

My mind went completely blank.

The sharp wooden stylus slipped, digging deep into the palm of my hand.

"They... look great together," I heard myself whisper, my voice cracked and dry.

"Right?!" The girl beamed, thrilled to have found someone who agreed. "They were Hollywood's biggest heartbreak when they split up! Thousands of fans cried for weeks!"

"Didn’t you know how hopelessly devoted Julian is? All these years after their breakup, he never took off that matching braided wristband Nicole gave him!"

"Everyone’s saying he was just waiting for her to come back to him the whole time!"

The wristband...

A cold wave washed over me. Julian always wore a simple black braided band on his left wrist, fastened with an intricate, faded silver charm.

He wore it everywhere. He never took it off, not even in the shower.

I had asked about it once out of pure curiosity.

At the time, he was hugging me from behind, resting his chin atop my head, his voice low and tender.

He had said, "A gift from someone very important."

I pressed, "Who?"

He let out a soft chuckle and planted a kiss on my earlobe.

"Family."

*Family.*

So that "family" was Nicole Parker.

The man who shared my bed every night held another woman in his heart, proudly wearing her token of affection while keeping me locked in the shadows.

The sweet domestic life I thought we had built was nothing more than an elaborate joke.

Outside of his loyal public image, I was merely a cheap substitute, a disposable distraction.

I wasn't even worthy of having a name in his world.