Betrayed Heiress: His Public Downfall

te Murp

ting. "Your father and I miss you. You don't have to stay there." She meant New Yor

ate mogul, the man who owned half the city's skyline. He was the reason I was Charlotte Murphy, not Charlotte Wheeler. I wanted to make it on my own,

entity, my wealth, my true capabilities. For seven years, I lived a lie. I poured my heart and soul into his projects, designing, drafting, correcting his mistakes, all while he took the credit. I was his secret weapon, his silent partner. He rose th

d. Everyone saw it, praised it. I had believed, foolishly, that one day, when he was truly secure, truly successful, I could reveal my r

ocated by pistachio macarons

oice barely a whispe

through the phone. "Oh, Charlotte! Your fath

lly escaping. "As soon as I can pack

t, darling?" s

. "For being so foolish. For l

small, Charlotte. You were just bending for someone who wasn

eer, validating his shallow success. I' d designed entire city blocks, conceptualized award-winning structures, perfected every detail, only for him to present them as his own. I' d even u

love. It was a prison. A gilded cage of my own making, with Derek hol

f-deluding Charlotte, was dead. And good riddance. The new Charlotte wasn

ate the lease," I told my mother, my voice

te of approval in his voice.

wered on the second ring, his voice harried. "Charlotte? Ever

ice steady, "I'm calling to r

sputtering noise. "Resign? Charlotte, are you serio

I replied, a carefully constructed lie. "I'll clear

king the city. New York, a sprawling monument to my foolishness. I had loved thi

e. Charlotte Wheeler was back.