DEAR CHEATED GIRLFRIEND, I AM TRILLIONAIRE HEIR

CHAPTER 3 WHO IS THE MAN?

Karvel leaned back against the plush leather seat of the luxury car, his fingers tapping against the armrest. The city lights outside flickered past, but his mind was elsewhere. His jaw was still tight from the earlier humiliation.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

Mariya.

He let it ring a few times before sighing and picking up. “Didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.”

Her voice came through, sharp yet restrained. “Karvel… where are you?”

Karvel chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Why? You need to check my whereabouts to inform security?”

Mariya exhaled impatiently. “Enough. I want to give you a chance to fix this mess before it’s too late.”

His fingers tightened around the phone. “What mess?”

“Vincent told me everything,” she continued. “The ring… Karvel, do you realize what you’ve done? That diamond is priceless. If you turn yourself in now, I can still help you.”

Karvel’s chest tightened. “Turn myself in?”

“I’ll do my best to keep you out of prison,” she pressed on, her voice laced with urgency. “But you have to stop running and admit to what you did.”

Karvel’s hand gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

She actually believed him capable of stealing?

“You really think I’d do something so low?” His voice came out quieter than he expected, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

Mariya sighed, as if she was talking to a reckless child. “Karvel, don’t make this harder than it has to be. I’m trying to help you.”

His grip on the phone loosened, replaced by something colder—disillusionment.

She trusted Vincent over him.

Even after three years.

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “You know, Mariya, it’s funny. I thought I knew you.” He shook his head, glancing at the velvet box on the seat beside him. “Turns out I was wrong.”

She didn’t respond.

And Karvel had nothing more to say.

Click.

He ended the call.

He wasn’t going to waste another second on someone who saw him as nothing more than a beggar with a stolen prize.

—

Back at the Carter Corporation lobby, Mariya pulled her phone away from her ear, staring at the screen with a mixture of disappointment and frustration.

Isabelle, who had been watching from the side, clicked her tongue. “See? He’s showing his true colors. A street rat can never change.”

Vincent, standing nearby, smirked as he adjusted his cufflinks. “Well, that was predictable. Lowly mutts always run when they’re caught red-handed.”

Mariya didn’t respond.

Vincent, sensing an opportunity, leaned in slightly. “Honestly, Mariya, you’re better off without that stray dragging you down. If you ask me, I’d say he was only ever with you for status and money.”

She still didn’t respond.

Vincent’s smirk twitched. “Oh? Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about him?”

Mariya finally turned to him, her expression unreadable. “Why are you here, Vincent?”

The sudden shift in topic caught him off guard. He cleared his throat before smoothly regaining composure. “Business, of course.”

She raised a brow. “Business?”

Vincent’s smirk returned. “There’s a fundraising gala coming up—a charity event for an orphanage. You’d be interested.”

Mariya folded her arms. “I don’t have time for charity events.”

Vincent chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll want to make time for this one.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Explain.”

Vincent stepped closer, lowering his voice. “The orphanage is putting a prime piece of real estate up for auction. The land value is insane—but due to mismanagement, they’re being forced to sell it to keep supporting the orphans.”

Mariya’s interest piqued. “And?”

Vincent grinned. “And my family is willing to fully support you in securing it.”

A thoughtful look crossed Mariya’s face. The deal was too good to ignore.

Meanwhile, Vincent watched her closely, his grin widening.

Karvel was out of the picture.

And soon, Mariya would be right where he wanted her.

The luxury car cruised through the city streets, its engine purring softly like a beast waiting to be unleashed. Inside, Karvel sat in the back seat, his gaze fixed on the city lights flashing by. His fingers tapped idly against the leather armrest, his mind still lingering on Mariya’s call.

Markos, the man behind the wheel, had been listening the whole time. He was a local tycoon, a man whose wealth and influence could shake an entire city. Yet, here he was, driving for Karvel like a humble chauffeur.

Markos let out a low scoff. “Boss, one word from you, and I can make the Carter family disappear overnight. Their company, their wealth, their so-called prestige—gone. Just say the word, and I’ll make sure they regret ever looking down on you.”

Karvel smirked faintly but shook his head. “No need.”

Markos frowned. “No need? Boss, that woman chose a scheming rat over you. She thinks you stole some worthless diamond—you, of all people! And she dares to offer you protection like you’re some lowlife?”

Karvel exhaled, leaning back against the seat. “Our fates have run their course. There’s no point in revenge. She made her choice—I made mine.”

Markos grumbled but said nothing, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. He had seen countless powerful men fall apart because of betrayal, but Karvel… Karvel was different.

After a moment, Markos changed the topic. “Since you’ve got nothing to do, why don’t you come with me to an auction?”

Karvel arched a brow. “An auction?”

“Yeah,” Markos nodded. “There’s an interesting item up for sale tonight—a 200-year-old antique legal document. Rumor has it, the document contains clues to an ancient treasure.” He shot a glance at Karvel through the rearview mirror. “I figured you might be able to help authenticate it.”

Karvel’s interest was piqued. “You think the treasure is real?”

Markos grinned. “Who knows? But it’s always fun to watch rich idiots fight over things they don’t understand.”

Karvel chuckled. “Fine. I’ll come.”

—

The car pulled up to the grand entrance of the auction venue. A red carpet lined the walkway, and luxury cars filled the lot, each more extravagant than the last. The guests in attendance were all elites—business moguls, politicians, and old-money aristocrats.

Markos quickly stepped out and circled around to open the car door for Karvel. “Boss, let’s—”

Before he could finish, Karvel shot him a glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Markos blinked. “Uh… opening the door for you?”

Karvel scowled. “Do I look like someone who needs to be escorted? Keep a low profile. We’re here to enjoy the auction, not make a spectacle.” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly stepped out of the car and strode toward the entrance.

Markos sighed but smirked. “Still the same as always.”

Despite Karvel’s quick movements, several people caught sight of the scene—the local tycoon himself opening the car door for a seemingly ordinary young man.

Whispers erupted among the onlookers.

“Who is that guy?”

“Did you see that? Markos personally opened the door for him. Since when did he serve anyone?”

“No idea… but if a man like Markos is showing that kind of respect, then this guy must be someone terrifying.”

As Karvel disappeared into the venue, speculation about his true identity spread like wildfire.