They Called Me Poor? Then I Bankrupted Their Family and Sold Their Story to TMZ

Chapter 1

I grew up abroad, but Mom was terrified I'd bring home some foreign guy, so she arranged an engagement with a supposedly perfect fiancé back in my hometown.

The day I returned home, I went to Lovely Bride to order my wedding dress.

A woman beside me glanced at the dress in my hands and said to the sales associate:

"That dress has a pretty unique style—bring it over for me to try."

The next second, the sales associate immediately roughly grabbed the dress from my hands and respectfully presented it to her.

I was pissed. "Hello? Ever heard of first come, first served? What's wrong with you people?"

That woman just rolled her eyes. "This dress costs $188,000. Can a poor bitch like you even afford it?"

"You know the famous Whitmore Corp? Huh! I'm CEO Garrett Whitmore's fucking sister! In Chicago, the Whitmores always come first!"

Garrett Whitmore?

Well, what do you know—that's my fiancé.

So, I immediately called him.

"Your 'fucking-sister' just stole my engagement dress. How are we gonna handle this?"

...

"Fucking sister"?

That sounds like some seriously inappropriate relationship going on.

Moreover, from what I know, Garrett is an only child—where the hell did this "sister" come from?

If Garrett couldn't give me a decent explanation today, our engagement party was damn well off.

Next second, his ice-cold voice goes, "Who the hell is this? When did some random nobody get to comment on my relationship with Brielle?"

I was about to tell him I'm his goddamn fiancée when he hung up on me.

Real smooth, Garrett—you don't even have my contact saved?!

Meanwhile, Brielle Carmichael was grinning like the cat who got the cream.

"Bitch! You think getting Garrett's number means you can climb the social ladder? In your dreams!"

She looked me up and down with pure disgust.

"Even the janitors at Whitmore Corp dress better than your sorry ass."

I usually go for comfort over flash—I don't obsess over designer labels. Never thought that would become ammunition for someone's attack.

"What century are we living in? Still judging people by their clothes? Garrett calling you 'sister'—I think the man's lost his damn mind."

She'd completely murdered my shopping mood. I grabbed the dress and headed to checkout.

The sales girl hesitated. "Miss, we prioritize our VIP members."

Brielle's smile got even smugger as she whipped out this flashy gold card and slammed it on the counter.

"Million-dollar membership card. Stop playing pretend, you pathetic poor bitch."

I'm usually not one to get into pissing contests, but Brielle had officially set me on fire.

I immediately pulled out my black card and handed it to the sales girl, trying to keep my voice steady. "Sign me up for membership and wrap up the dress."

Brielle also turned to the sales girl with a venomous stare. "Chicago is Whitmore territory. You sell her that dress today, and tomorrow I'll have Garrett crush this entire store."

Hearing this, the sales girl cowered and said to me nervously: "Miss, I'm just trying to make a living here. I can't mess with the Whitmores."

People around us started whispering advice: "I've seen this Carmichael girl before. Garrett absolutely worships her. Just let it go."

"Last time someone crossed her, the Whitmores destroyed them completely."

"Even if you've got some cash, it's nothing compared to Whitmore Corp. Just grovel and beg her to let you off the hook."

All this ass-kissing had Brielle's ego soaring to the stratosphere.

"Did you hear that, bitch? Do you finally know who you've messed with today?"

"So I'm throwing you a lifeline—get on your knees right fucking now and scream three times 'I'm a pathetic wannabe trash, and I know I was wrong,' and maybe—just maybe—I'll consider letting you slither away."

Chapter 2

Twenty-six years on this planet, and I'd never met anyone ballsy enough to act this crazy in front of me.

"Say that again. What do you want me to scream?"

"Are you deaf? 'I'm a pathetic wannabe trash and I know I was wrong'! Clearly now?!"

I couldn't help but smirk. "Got it loud and clear. Since you already know you're a pathetic wannabe, why don't you get the hell out of my face before I completely lose my shit?"

Brielle realized she'd been played and came at me swinging.

Fucking hilarious. I'm a black belt in taekwondo—you think I'm scared of her pathetic-ass moves?

I landed a solid kick and sent her sprawling on the floor, crying like a baby.

Everyone stared at me in pure terror. "Oh my God! How could she do that to Miss Carmichael!"

"When Garrett finds out, he's gonna destroy her."

"She's totally fucked now. Nobody can save her."

Listening to their chatter, I felt absolutely nothing.

The Whitmore family only got where they are because of my mom's connections. So there's literally nobody in Chicago who scares me.

SMACK!

I slapped my card on the counter again. "Ring me up!"

The sales girl looked like she'd seen a ghost but shakily processed my card and bagged the dress.

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

Just as I was grabbing my clothes and turning to leave, Brielle immediately scrambled up from the floor and blocked my path, "You're not going anywhere!"

I waved my fist in her face. "What? Want another taste of my knuckles?"

Brielle flinched, and I laughed as I walked toward the exit.

Just then, a black Maybach pulled up outside. The first thing I saw was an expensive leather shoe hitting the pavement.

I looked up from the shoes and my heart started pounding.

This guy was easily six-three, broad shoulders, long legs, and that face was absolutely stunning—sharp features, gorgeous from every angle.

Holy shit! He's fucking hot!

Brielle immediately ran over crying her eyes out.

"Garrett, she stole the dress I wanted and then she beat me up..."

So this hot guy is my fiancé?!

I'm a total sucker for good looks, and Garrett's face was exactly my type.

With a face like that, I could probably forgive his earlier asshole behavior.

I flashed what I hoped was a charming smile. "Hi, I'm Willa Chinning, your fiancée. Nice to meet you."

No wonder Mom said I'd definitely be happy with this match—she really knows what I like!

The crowd immediately started going wild.

"What! She's Garrett's fiancée!"

"Between a fiancée and a sister, the fiancée has to be more important, right? No wonder she was so fearless!"

"Not necessarily! It depends on who Garrett favors more!"

Next second, the damn bystanders' curse came true——

Garrett looked at me ice-cold. "Don't flatter yourself. My dad arranged this engagement without asking me. I never agreed to it."

Brielle wrapped herself around his arm, leaning on his shoulder with pure venom in her eyes.

"Look at your hideous face—why would Garrett ever marry you!"

Someone chimed in, "Exactly! If Garrett gets married, it'll be to some rich socialite from his own circle. Why would he marry some worthless country bumpkin?"

"She's not even qualified to scrub toilets at Whitmore Corp!"

I don't think I'm drop-dead gorgeous, but I'm definitely not ugly. How did I become such a disaster in their eyes?

People really are just shallow bullies who stomp on you when you're down.

"Garrett, then you go back and tell your dad that I'm the one who called off this engagement."

"And let me remind you of something. Being able to engage with me was flattering YOURSELF."

Chapter 3

According to Mom, Garrett's dad worked his ass off to arrange this marriage alliance with our family. If he found out his son screwed it up, Garrett would be in serious fucking trouble.

That thought cheered me up considerably. I was done dealing with these idiots and turned to leave.

But Brielle wouldn't let it go. With backup now, she blocked my path again.

"Bitch, don't even think about running! You stole my dress and hit me—we're far from done!"

I looked at her with pure disgust. "What exactly do you want?"

Brielle thought she had me scared and raised her hand to slap me.

"I'm gonna beat your ass until I'm fucking satisfied."

I immediately caught her wrist and delivered a clean, sharp slap across her face.

She stared at me in complete disbelief. "Bitch! How dare you hit—"

SLAP!

I backhanded her again. "Are you satisfied now?"

Two solid slaps completely crushed Brielle's attitude. She ran crying behind Garrett.

"Garrett, you have to defend me!"

Hearing this, Garrett protectively pulled Brielle into his arms and threatened me. "Nobody touches my people and gets away with it!"

Then he signaled his bodyguards to grab me.

I managed to take down one guy, but couldn't handle the second. After taking several hits, I collapsed in pain as two guards dragged me in front of them.

"Brielle, do whatever you want to her today. I'll handle whatever happens!"

With Garrett's guarantee, Brielle got viciously bold again.

She slapped me twice, then spit right in my face.

"Bitch! You were so tough before—let's see you act tough now!"

Then she kicked me hard in the stomach.

I clutched my aching belly and glared at both of them with hatred.

"You'll pay for this. I swear I'll make you both fucking pay!"

Brielle laughed like a maniac. "The Whitmores are one of Chicago's Big Three families. What's a poor bitch like you gonna do to me?"

"Today I'm gonna show you what happens when you fuck with me!"

She pulled out a nail file and slashed it across my face.

My cheek immediately exploded with pain as the skin swelled and blood trickled down.

Someone commented sadly, "They told her not to cross the Whitmores, but she wouldn't listen. Now she's fucked."

"Such a pretty face, too. What a waste to destroy it."

"Us regular folks need to keep our heads down and avoid trouble."

Looking at Brielle raising the nail file to slash my face again, I desperately opened my mouth to beg for mercy.

"I was wrong! Take the dress—I shouldn't have fought you for it."

Better to live to fight another day. Right now, saving my face was the priority.

But Brielle just sneered mockingly and slashed another cut across my face. "Bitch! Way too late for apologies now."

"I'm not letting you go until I've completely destroyed you!"

I screamed and turned to Garrett desperately. "Garrett, aren't you afraid of who I am? You'll regret letting her do this to me!"

Garrett looked absolutely disgusted. "Who are you? You're just that slut's daughter! That old hag seduced my dad and made him lose his mind, forcing him to arrange this shitty marriage for me. What are you pretending to be, some big shot?"

Brielle's eyes flashed with pure evil. "If your mom's a slut, then you're definitely a little slut. Today I'm gonna strip you naked and teach you a fucking lesson!"

"No!"

Just then, my phone rang. I struggled to answer it, but Brielle viciously snatched it away.

She swiped to answer, and Mom's cheerful voice came through.

"Willa, how's the dress shopping going?"

I immediately screamed for help. "Mom, help me! Someone's beating me up and threatening to strip me!"

Mom went ballistic. "What! Who's doing this!"

"I'll tell you exactly who I am! The name's Brielle Whitmore! Your slutty daughter is acting like a whore, so I'm gonna teach her some fucking manners!"

Mom's voice was absolutely frantic. "I don't care who you are! Let go of my daughter right now or you'll fucking regret it!"

"Come and try me, bitch. I'll be right here waiting to skin you alive too!"

She hung up and violently smashed my phone to pieces.

The next second, another slap landed hard on my face, and Brielle roared with fury: "You and your mom are cut from the same slutty cloth. When she gets here, I'll strip both of you fucking naked!"

Time crawled by. It felt like hours, but it was probably only five minutes.

Finally, a familiar black Lincoln appeared.

Mom stepped out of the car. "Let's see who dares to skin me alive!"