Part 2The Undercover Heiress: How I Destroyed the Fake CEO's Daughter

My boyfriend, Derek Vance, and I had just sat down at a nice Italian place downstairs.

Suddenly, Britney and a cluster of coworkers walked in, surrounding Harper like she was Beyoncé.

Derek, who was usually indifferent to other women, suddenly stood up. He walked over to an empty table near us, pulled out a chair, and gave Harper a warm, charming smile. "Harper, there are empty seats here. You guys can sit."

Harper smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you, Derek."

Derek's smile grew even softer. "Anytime."

I sat there, dumbfounded, staring at him. He hadn't pulled my chair out for me when we arrived.

Derek sat back down, leaned over the table, and whispered, "Harper is the CEO’s daughter."

I frowned. "So what?"

Word traveled fast. Within a single morning, even Derek in the Engineering department knew.

"She’s a big deal," Derek said defensively. "If I get on her good side, it benefits both of us."

He then shot me a look of annoyance. "You shared a dorm with Harper for three years in college. How did you never tell me something this huge?"

I was getting annoyed. "Even if she was the CEO's daughter, what difference would it make?"

Just then, the garlic butter shrimp Harper ordered arrived at her table.

Derek stood up again. He leaned in, gritted his teeth, and whispered to me, "You are so dense it's actually painful."

Then, abandoning his actual girlfriend, he scurried over to their table and started peeling shrimp for Harper.

I swallowed my anger and called his name twice. He ignored me.

Harper spoke up, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Thank you, Derek. But Chloe looks really mad. I know it's no big deal that you're helping me, but if she throws a tantrum, you'll have to be the one to coax her. I don't want you to get tired because of me. You should go back."

Derek wanted to stay, but a few male coworkers, eager to suck up to the "heiress," aggressively nudged him out of the way.

When Derek returned to our table, he glared at me like he wanted to stab me.

I let out a cold laugh. "Derek, did you ever stop to think that if she isn't the CEO's daughter, your pathetic, gold-digging brown-nosing today is going to look incredibly embarrassing?"

Derek's face darkened. "I'm a gold-digger? You think I'm embarrassing? The only embarrassing one here is you! You're dead broke, yet you strut around carrying a fake fifty-thousand-dollar Hermès Birkin! God knows what shady things you did to get that knockoff!"

For safety reasons, I usually wore unbranded custom clothing and bags made by my family's private designers. But one morning, I was running late for a major college lecture, panicked, and grabbed a custom, logo-less Hermès bag my mom had casually bought at a Paris runway show and left on the sofa.

I didn't expect Derek to recognize the silhouette.

So his whole "I don't care about material things" persona was a complete act.

My affection and respect for him plummeted to absolute zero.

I stood up with a cold face and left. I had completely lost my appetite.

I had originally thought he was a talented engineer and was planning to recommend him to my dad for a promotion. Now, I realized that was entirely unnecessary.