Chapter 1: Love, Betrayed
The sound of music drifted from Joy's house, filling the air with energy. Inside, Joy and her colleagues danced in the sitting room, their laughter and celebration echoing off the walls. A large cake sat on the table with the words "Joy at 20" written on top—it was her birthday party.
Only a few close friends and coworkers had been invited: four women and five men, all enjoying the celebration. But someone unexpected was about to walk through the door.
James, Joy's boyfriend of over six months, had been walking past when he heard the music. Curious—and confused—he decided to step inside.
What he saw broke something inside him.
Joy was dancing happily with her guests. Everyone seemed to be having a good time—except him. He hadn't been invited. He hadn't even known it was her birthday.
His chest tightened. Why didn't she tell me? he wondered. As he stood in the corner watching her laugh, guiltless and carefree, a storm brewed in his heart.
What have I done to deserve this? he thought bitterly. I've given her everything I could—almost my entire salary—just so she won't cheat on me. I've always been honest, always tried to make her happy.
James wasn't wealthy. He earned a modest salary and barely got by, but he gave what little he had to Joy—for handouts, food, house rent, and school support. Even when she asked for more than he could afford, he found a way, often borrowing money just to meet her needs. All because he believed in her… and in them.
Maybe that was his mistake.
When he traveled last month, Joy hadn't called once. Still, he let it go, believing love meant patience and forgiveness. But this—being excluded from her birthday—felt like betrayal.
James had no family. Orphaned in a plane crash as a child, he was raised in an orphanage. He'd struggled to put himself through college and never made it to university. But he believed that didn't make him less of a man. All he had, all he wanted, was her.
He'd dreamed of marrying Joy someday—paying her bride price, planning a small but beautiful wedding. Now, it all seemed like a cruel fantasy.
He called her name once, twice—three times. But the music drowned him out.
Finally, he walked up to her and gently touched her arm. She turned, smiling—until she saw the look on his face.
"James… I didn't hear you," she said quickly, sensing his mood.
"I've been calling you," he said quietly, fighting to stay calm. "Why didn't you tell me about your birthday? Why didn't you invite me?"
Joy hesitated. She couldn't tell him the truth—that her new boyfriend, Grew, had forbidden her from inviting him. That Grew, who had paid for the entire party, made it clear James had no place here.
So she said nothing.
Her silence said everything.
Trying to mask her discomfort, Joy turned back to the dance floor, pretending she hadn't heard his question.
James stared at her, stunned. Then he raised his voice, just a little. "Joy, I'm talking to you. Why didn't you tell me?"
She snapped. "What the hell, James? Do I have to tell you all my plans?"
The words hit him like a slap. He stepped back, his heart sinking. "After everything I've done for you…"
A girl named Peace, one of Joy's friends, turned from the dance floor. "What the hell is going on here?"
Joy scoffed. "He came here uninvited. Trying to ruin the fun."
Peace had always known Joy was dating James before Grew came into the picture. But Grew believed she'd ended things with him—and tonight, that illusion was about to shatter.
"What the hell, James?" Peace snapped as she spotted him. "You weren't invited. Can't you just stay at home for once?"
James tried to speak, but she cut him off, her voice dripping with scorn.
"Oh, wait—I forgot. You don't even have a home. Joy can't marry you. You're broke. Even if you proposed, her parents would never agree. So what are you doing here, wasting your time and ours? Go get a decent job and a real place to live before you start chasing girlfriends."
James stood frozen, too stunned to reply.
Avery, one of the guests lounging nearby, smirked. "Look at him—he can't even afford decent clothes or shoes. I think he might be the poorest man on earth. Even a stray dog's got it better."
Peace laughed cruelly. "He probably has just two outfits. Wears one today, washes it at night, and prays it dries in time for tomorrow."
Laughter erupted around the room.
James clenched his fists. "Hey, watch your mouth. Don't talk to me like that—I'm not your mate. Whether I own two shirts or ten, today's lack doesn't mean my future is doomed. So mind your business."
His voice trembled—not from fear, but from the sting of humiliation. Anger flashed in his eyes.
"Age is just a number," Peace scoffed. "Being older than me doesn't mean you'll ever be richer. Say one more word, and I'll have my guys throw you out. You're nothing but a loser."
This wasn't the first time James had been insulted. Life had thrown him more punches than he could count. But this one, coming from people he once trusted—or loved—hit deeper than most.
He turned to leave, swallowing his pride. Just as he reached the door, it opened—and in walked Grew.
Grew was everything James wasn't: a final-year university student, the son of billionaires, wearing an expensive Armani suit like he'd been born in it. He didn't work, but his bank account overflowed. Privilege clung to him like perfume.
Joy rushed to him instantly, wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug.
James watched in silence.
In all their time together, Joy had never once hugged him like that. His chest tightened. Was this the real reason she had pushed him aside?
Maybe it's because of him she abandoned me, James thought bitterly.
Grew's face hardened the moment he spotted James. "Joy, I told you—I don't want to see that man here again. Why is he in your house?"
Those words landed like a punch. James stood rooted, his dignity slipping through his fingers.
After everything I did for her… this is how it ends?
He wasn't angry at Joy. He was heartbroken. And helpless.
"I didn't invite him," Joy said quickly, trying to avoid conflict. "I was just as surprised to see him here."
Grew walked forward slowly, sizing James up with contempt.
"Listen, man. This is my girlfriend's house now. That means I get to decide who's welcome—and you're not. Don't come here again. Now leave."
He pointed toward the door.
James turned without a word, ready to disappear quietly.
But then Grew spoke again.
"Wait," he said. "Let me give you something before you go."
Everyone turned, confused by his sudden generosity.
"I'm a good man. I care about the poor," Grew said with mock sincerity. "I don't want you walking out of here with nothing but shame. I'll give you a thousand dollars—yes, one thousand. But only if you use your shirt to clean my shoes."
Gasps rippled through the room.
Peace's eyes lit up. "That's a great offer. If I were you, I'd do it without hesitation. That kind of money can change your life."