THE DISCARDED TRILLIONAIRE AND DAUGHTER

The brutal betrayal.

His woman, the woman who'd been living under his roof in their broken apartment. She walked in regally like she owned the whole damn stellar, each step dragging crowds and frantic screams behind her.

She was the dirty star, the celebrity with a net worth that was worth millions of dollars.

Lisa was barely clad, her appearance leaving little to the imagination— Short crimson gown that stopped before her knee, revealing her succulent thigh, that a slight bend would expose more of what was left uncovered.

Her neckline curved low. Too low than Ethan had seen.

Amos's world completely froze. His vision tunneled on her in utter shock and dismay.

The hall continued to scream her name, stumbling on one another as they surged behind to have her autograph and pictures, but her bodyguards pushed them back.

Amos blinked— Once. Twice. Maybe he was just seeing things. For a split second, he wanted to admit his sight was becoming bad, but the reality was glaring— the same woman who had been preaching about decency had been a celebrated slut.

Rose, their smart six year old daughter, what would her reaction be when she gets to know,

That her mother— The woman who she chose as a role model was a whore. She'd built a different life far away from them.

Amos' lips trembled. Tears burned in his eyes as the weight of her betrayal and lies crashed the preserved frame of the woman he had pictured in his heart.

Still, she was unwilling to believe the reality yet, until, "Lisa!!" His voice tore across the hallway.

The hall shifted instantly. The paparazzi paused. Heads turned. And even the queen b*tch rolled swung her head back.

Maybe it was another crazy fan.

Or, maybe another man who'd been fantasizing to have her in bed wanting to take a chance.

Her eyes pierced through the sea and landed on him at the end of the hall.

Her knee buckled. Her jaw gave out in palpable shock that even her fingers registered the trembling of her body that her Gucci designer purse clattered to the floor.

Her expression was that of a priest daughter who had just been caught sleeping around with men.

But it was all fleeting as Lisa recovered quickly.

She moved again, breezing past him like he was a wall she needed to avoid.

The cold negligence felt stabbed deeper at Amos' heart. He snapped, lashing out to grip her.

"Lisa," He called. " What the heck are you doing he...." Someone shoved him hard his butt cracked against the marble. It was her body guard, and Lisa clicked past like she never saw any of it.

Amos sat frozen on the floor, staring in dismay as her figure faded into the hallway end.

Director jack came around with his usual arrogant grin. His hands jammed in his pocket in composed untouchable rudeness, staring down Amos like a man who had lost it all.

"Looks like you just got hit by a trailer, Huh." He said knowingly.

His head tilted with an amusing grin. "Or, you got struck by the star— Lisa."

Amos's head snapped up, his eyes burning laser rage.

Everything was making sense now— The mail. The black legal agreement. It was all a trap set by this bastard....and maybe Lisa was her accomplice. Maybe the masterminder.

The cruel Reality dawned on Amos.

The director nodded, grin sharp. "Guess you just figured it out." He said and crouched before him. He reached out to adjust his collar in sarcastic concern. "You're not seeing things, Voss. The picture is clear now that she doesn't want you. So it's time you know the place you belong. She is way above your league now, and a man like you will only drag the star down."

Amos's jaw gritted so hard his gum paled. Anger burned in his chest. He glared at the director, speaking with a voice trembling with anger. "You— you planned all of this? You dare threaten my— my family!"

Jack let out a laughter that didn't come from his throat. "You're taking it hard on yourself man," He said, " I only did an assignment. This was what she wanted and she is fully aware that a man like you is just a deadwei....."

Amos's rage exploded. His arm swung through the air, packed with anger. The punch landed against the director's jaw with a crack. Director Jack stumbled backwards, bleeding from his broken nose.

Amos charged at him to deliver another attack when two bodyguards pinned him on the spot

"Let go of me," Amos struggled to break free from the restraint. "I swear I'll kill you bastard!"

Director Jack straighted up, wiping blood from his nose with a handkerchief. He smirked dangerously, staring at Amos in cold amusement.

"Just so maybe you've forgotten where you are," He said, threat undertone. " You're in Stellar. My turf. If I let you go when you raise a hand at me, it's because I willed. This organization is deeper than you can ever imagine."

He took one step closer, voice dropping low and threatening.

" With just a call. One call. I can have your name blacklisted on every platform. No events. No companies. Even private individuals would reject your applications. I can really make your existence useless, Voss."

Amos broke free from the guard's hold. He stood straighter, holding Jack's gaze fearlessly.

"Untouchable, Huh." He said with a bitter chuckle. "Coming from a coward who can only threaten a man to submit to his will. When the time comes, not even your godfathers will be able to protect you. You all will feel my wrath."

Director Jack faltered slightly, but he recovered back quickly.

He flashed a grin. "I'd like to see you try, tough guy."

"Throw him out!"

The securities advanced closer, but Amos shot a glare. "Don't you dare." He snarled.

With one last glance at Jack— a quiet promise in his eyes, Amos walked out of the place.

The magnificent building of stellar entertainment glinted in the sun— all glass and steel. It towered like his worst nightmare, each letter mocking him.

Amos stood there for 15 minutes that felt like two seconds. Passersby stared, mumbling something he wasn't listening to.

Night came too low, but time couldn't heal the broken man. Amos dragged himself home, shoe caked in dust, a bottle of thunder-bird dangled in his hand. His body wavered from the toxic alcoholic effect, but the brutal reality intoxicated more than the liquor.

He crossed the street, stumbling into their old apartment and slammed the door shut with a strong push he never intended.

Turning around, he froze, seeing his daughter, Rose, tucking her body against the wall of their cramped apartment. Her head buried into her thigh, diminishing her frame.

Amos's heart coiled in his chest. The alcohol faded instantly, the bottle forgotten in his hand.

The thought about her reaction when she finds out about her mother weakens him on that spot.

"Dad,"

A tiny voice came from the corner of the room.