The Prince Pretends to Be Poor for Love

My boyfriend, Jonathan Davis, who I had been in love with for five years, had stomach cancer.

In order to pay for Jonathan's treatment, I sold the house my mother left me and worked three jobs on my own.

I heard Jonathan talking to someone about me while I was working parttime job at the bar. “Vivian is just a toy for me when I'm bored, and I give her hope and push her into the abyss. Isn't that fun?”

I didn't cry, complain, or rush in to ask him, and I packed my things and took a plane back to my hometown.

I was told that Jonathan, the young master in Hampton, who cried and searched the whole of Hampton afterwards, could not find me.

The second before I pushed open the door to the private room, I was still secretly delighted that I would get a tip of several hundred dollars for this order.

As a result, I was suddenly stunned when I saw Jonathan surrounded by several rich men in the center of the booth.

At that moment, Jonathan was dressed in a suit and exuded an innate nobility.

He was nothing like the poor boyfriend who was pestering me to sleep with me before.

I looked over uncertainly several times as I heard the coquettish giggle of the flirtatious woman lying in his arms.

“Mr. Davis, haven't you had enough of Cinderella falling in love with Prince Charming?”

“What is so special about Vivian that is worth all the years you've spent playing such a boring game?” The woman's tone sounded flirty and filled with disdain.

Jonathan didn't answer, his eyes hiding a faint smile. He lifted the woman's chin with his hand and lowered his head for a kiss.

It was unexpectedly quiet in the private room, making the kiss seem extra charming, gentle and ambiguous.

The woman's panting was even more like a tidal wave into my ears, and a tingling sensation like a dense pinprick of needles surged through my heart.

“Mr. Davis, someone's watching us. Why don't you come over to my place tonight? Play however you want.”

The desire in Jonathan's eyes disappeared. He cupped the woman's face and teased, “That's the biggest difference between you and her. She's wellbehaved, unlike a woman as flirtatious as you, who can't survive without a man.”

Instead of feeling offended, the woman laughed with joy.

“Hey, you can't talk about me like that.”

I felt upset and hurriedly looked down, swallowing the loss that surged up.

At this moment, I was finally sure that the person in front of me was none other than Jonathan, my boyfriend who had been with me for five years.

Three months ago, Jonathan cried and asked to break up with me because he didn't want to drag me down with him.

“Vivian, why don't we break up? I don't want to drag you down.”

At that moment, I felt very dizzy. Before I could say anything, my tears were falling uncontrollably.

“Why do you want to break up with me? Did something happen to you?”

I grabbed Jonathan's arm tightly and looked up at him incredulously.

It wasn't until he took out the stomach cancer diagnosis, and I saw that it clearly said midstage stomach cancer, that my world seemed to collapse for a moment, and I cried.

“How could this happen?”

Jonathan didn't say anything and hugged me tightly. I subconsciously tried to look up when I felt tears on my neck.

“Don't look at it. Vivian, I don't want you to see me so embarrassed, and I don't want to drag you down with me. I'll move out tomorrow, and I want to hug you gently before I die...” His voice was trembling slightly, full of helplessness and despair.

I was so angry that my eyes filled with tears, slapped him harshly on the back, and said in a choked voice, “Don't talk nonsense. You're not going to die, and I'll be there for you. You'll be fine.”

With that, we fell into silence.

Jonathan's surgery would cost upwards of half a million dollars.

It would be an astronomical figure for me, an average writer who made three thousand dollars a month.

I couldn't get that much money unless I sold my liver or kidneys.

After a while, Jonathan let go of me in frustration, his voice low and raspy.

“I'm fine, and I just think that I won't be with you anymore. I feel heartbroken. Vivian, the only one I'm worried about is you...”

Looking at Jonathan's distressed expression, I forced a smile and gently reassured, “It's okay, and I'll figure it out.”

As we went back to the house, I checked my account balance and found that I had borrowed less than five thousand dollars.

I sat quietly on the bed, staring at the property certificate in my hand in a daze.

It was the only thing my parents left me that could be exchanged for money.

I was worried about my boyfriend, who I had been in love with for five years, and the old house my mother had left me.

This put me in a struggle.

That night, I curled up in bed, clutched the property license tightly, burst into tears, and kept blaming myself.

“I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, I'm useless.”

Jonathan rescued me from the mire when I was at my most desperate. Now that he was in trouble, I couldn't leave him behind.

The next day, I sold my mother's house and moved into a rental house with Jonathan.

But the money I got from selling my house was nowhere near enough to pay for Jonathan's treatment.

The pemigatinib tablets would cost forty thousand dollars alone. With all the consulting fees, it was a bottomless pit.

For this reason, I gave up writing and worked three jobs.

I got up early and came home late every day, and I was so exhausted that I was about to pass out. All I wanted was to make a few extra dollars and save up for Jonathan's surgery sooner.

Jonathan went to the hospital alone every time secretly so that I could get some rest after work.

At that time, I just hated that I was incapable of alleviating Jonathan's pain instead.

Now, I felt like a clown, a buffoon to be played with by anyone.

Jonathan wouldn't let me accompany him to the hospital just because he was afraid of revealing himself.

From everyone's compliments, it wasn't hard for me to guess that Jonathan's identity was either rich or noble.

It was obviously wellheated in the private room, but I felt extremely cold, and my entire body shivered as if I had fallen into a freezing cellar.

“The girl with the mask, you're pretty blind. Why don't you hurry up and offer Mr. Davis a drink? You're such a piece of trash, and you deserve to work for someone for the rest of your life.”

After I came back to my senses from the memories, I poured the drinks for these rich guys nervously.

As I passed Jonathan, smelling his familiar scent, I was momentarily distracted and accidentally spilled my drink on him.

The woman beside him immediately got up and angrily pushed me to the ground, pointing at my nose and cursing me.

“Are you blind? Mr. Davis is wearing a shirt that is worth half your life.”

Was it worth half my life?

I braced myself in panic and wiped Jonathan's wine stains with a tissue on the side.

I was slapped brutally by the woman, who contemptuously poured wine all over my head.

“Don't you see what you look like? You're ugly and out of shape, and you're not even comparable to those whores. Are you still trying to seduce Mr. Davis?”

Everyone laughed, and I was so embarrassed that I wanted to find a place to hide.

The purple wine slid down my cheek, blurring my vision.

I saw the man in the center of the booth seem to smile happily and softly.

I was someone who had a strong preference for sound, so I loved the way Jonathan sat on the balcony holding a guitar and sang love songs to me.

At this moment, however, the familiar sound of laughter was particularly jarring.

I was about to carry the tray out the door when I heard Jonathan's cold voice ring out.

“Stop. You messed with me, but you want to leave, right? Will I agree to that? If you finish this drink, this will be over.”

Saying that, Jonathan pushed a glass of wine with an alcohol concentration of 45% in front of me.

The bright color of the wine was like poison in my eyes.

I stood still and never took the glass of wine.

Seeing that, a hint of jealousy appeared in the eyes of the woman who had just thrown my wine and raised her hand to slap me again, but her wrist was caught by me.

She yelled at me in exasperation, “Bitch, don't be shameless. A lot of people can't enjoy Mr. Davis' wine.”

“Go ahead and hold her down. The one who dares to refuse me has not yet been born!” Jonathan's voice was as cold as ice, with a sense of oppression that could not be denied.

As I was about to leave, I was kicked in the knee by the man Jonathan brought with him.

With a thud, I slumped down in front of the two men.

The sharp pain made my face pale, and cold sweat continued to drip downwards from my forehead.

The dignity I was so proud of was now being stepped on by my most beloved man.

The sadness in the bottom of my heart could no longer be suppressed as it surged upwards.

The woman ripped off my mask and plunged her long nails into my skin in retaliation.

I frowned in pain and struggled desperately.

She stopped Jonathan's view and poured a full glass of wine into my mouth as if she was venting her anger.

I drank it so quickly that I choked on it and blushed all over my face. I couldn't help but slump to the ground and cough, curling up into a ball in pain.

I was allergic to alcohol, and even a little bit could make me choke.

After a while, my face began to flush with a dense red rash, and I was breathing more and more heavily.

The woman let go of me with satisfaction and lay tenderly into Jonathan's arms with a delicate smile.

“Mr. Davis, how about coming over to my place tonight? I've recently learned some new poses that I'd like to try with you.”

It took me a while to ease my choking sensation.

I fought back the nausea that welled up in my stomach and stood up. As I was about to head out the door, I was stopped by Jonathan.

“Wait. This cufflink is my compensation for you, and it'll be enough for you to live on for the rest of your life if you sell it.”

I looked at him silently, trying to find a bit of familiarity in him.

Unfortunately, there was none at all.

As I was about to extend my hand to take the cufflink that symbolized my humiliation, I heard him chuckle in a low voice.

“You look a lot like my girlfriend, and you're even both allergic to alcohol, but she's not as greedy for money as you are. If it were her, she would never have taken it.”

Girlfriend? How ironic it was.

I retracted my hand with embarrassment as I had an elaborate cufflink in my hand.

I had never seen the logo on it before, and it looked extraordinarily luxurious and totally inaccessible to a person at the bottom of the heap like me.

It was also the first time I realized that one cufflink was enough for me to work my whole life to get.

I turned to leave. I hadn't gotten far when I heard someone ask, “Mr. Davis, to be honest, that girl even sold the old house her mother left behind because of you. Are you really not impressed at all?”

Jonathan didn't say anything, the smoke at his fingertips flickering on and off as he frowned tightly, looking obviously annoyed.

After a while, he slowly exhaled a mouthful of white smoke and smiled carelessly, “It's just a game. Why do you take it seriously? The woman who will make me fall in love hasn't appeared yet in this world.”

Perhaps I had an aggravated allergy, and I was breathing even more rapidly, as if I was going to die from suffocation the next second.

“That was right. It's not your style to return to the fold. Mr. Davis, isn't that girl a particularly flirtatious one to keep you interested for so long? How about letting us try when you've broken up with her?”

Before he could finish speaking, Jonathan kicked him to the ground, picked up the beer bottle on the table and smashed it on his head, the spattered glass shards scratching the corners of his eyes.

But Jonathan seemed oblivious, his eyes indifferent as if he were looking at a dead thing.

“She's not someone you can joke about.”

Everyone fell silent in fear, and no one dared to go forward and pull Jonathan away for fear of getting into trouble.

Someone suddenly mentioned my name. “Mr. Davis, stop it. You have to go to the hospital later. You don't want Vivian to get suspicious, do you?”

Upon hearing that, Jonathan truly calmed down. He signaled for everyone to shut up, took out his cell phone and dialed my number.

The cell phone in my pocket suddenly rang, and the vibration sounded particularly loud in the quiet private room.

Seeing this, I hurriedly hit the hang up button. I walked quickly out the door, but I was stopped by him.

“Wait.”

At once, my heart raced, and my face grew pale.

“Take your mask off.”

Upon hearing that, I froze, not daring to look up at him.

Without a hint of sympathy, Jonathan ripped my mask off and stared at my face for a moment.

Fortunately, my face was swollen to the point where he couldn't tell me apart.

“Your face looks disgusting. Get out!”

With that, Jonathan took out his handkerchief and wiped his fingers in disgust. Then, he threw the valuable handkerchief into the trash.

It wasn't just the handkerchief he threw away, it was the last shred of my self esteem I had left.

The door hadn't been closed tightly when someone asked Jonathan what he thought I was.

He smiled and said carelessly, “She was just a toy for me to play with when I was bored. Watching her let her guard down about me and fall deeply in love with me as I push her into the abyss. Isn't that fun?”

Everyone laughed and complimented him on how awesome he was.

I clutched the doorknob, shaking all over.

The suffocating feeling that filled my chest made it almost impossible for me to stand.

I wanted to push the door open and ask him loudly if he was tired of pretending for the past five years.

But the disparity in status made me resist the urge, and he was no longer someone I could afford to offend.