Vivian Shaw Connor Wright Novel My Boyfriend, the Future Tycoon

I woke up as the protagonist in a novel.
The male lead, Connor Wright, worked in construction to put me through college at NYU.
And me? I dumped him the moment I found a rich trust fund kid named, Chad Harrington.
Later, Connor built a business empire with his soulmate, Scarlett Reed, by his side.
And me? I shamelessly came back crawling, begging for him to take me back.
...
The applause was still thundering after the NYU New Year's Gala performance.
Chad Harrington, the campus trust fund baby who'd been chasing me, leapt onto the stage holding a massive bouquet of red roses.
"Vivian Shaw," he announced, loud enough for the mic to pick up,
"I would like you to be my girlfriend!"
The audience erupted. "Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!" The chant arose like a wave.
My eyes scanned the back of the auditorium.
There he was, Connor Wright, leaning against the wall, watching the spectacle with a detached coolness.
Our eyes locked. He gave a slight, mocking twist of his lips and pushed off the wall to leave.
"I can't," I said, my voice clear over the fading chants. "My boyfriend would be pissed off.."
I didn't even glance at the bouquet of roses.
Gathering my skirt, I turned and practically ran down the stage steps.
Everyones' eyes followed me as I dashed up the aisle, while my heels were clicking
I grabbed Connor's arm just as he reached the exit door.
He froze, but hadn't turned around.
"I haven't changed," he muttered, his voice was low.
"Your fancy friends will laugh if they see you with me."
I tightened my grip on his rough work jacket sleeve.
"But I dressed up like this for you,"
I whispered, letting a bit of a pouting flow through my lips.
"Don't you want to see?"
A moment passed. Connor slowly turned.
He wore faded, stained work coveralls C construction gear, splattered with dried mud.
Whispers begun as people realized the campus beauty queen clinging to that.
His back was ramrod straight, but his voice held a weary resignation.
"Let go, Viv. My hands are filthy."
His hands were rough, calloused, a stark contrast to his unfairly handsome face.
I tilted my head up, meeting his gaze with a small smirk.
"No. You're not dirty. Not at all."
I gave his arm a little shake.
"My performance was amazing! Don't I at least get a hug?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he grumbled.
Ignoring him, I jumped, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.
Connor tensed up for a split second,
then his hands shot out C one instinctively cupping under my thigh to hold my skirt down, the other securing me as he practically bolted out of the auditorium doors.
Hmph. Stoic guy.

Connor carried me all the way back to my dorm building before setting me down.
Then he asked me a question out of the blue. "Why did you do that?"
The past Vivian Shaw wouldn't have touched him in public, let alone just ting him visit campus. She'd have died of embarrassment.
"Aren't you my boyfriend?"
I countered, holding his gaze.
Connor stared back, his eyes searching mine.
They reflected something complex I couldn't quite decipher.
Finally, a humorless smile crossed his lips.
"Okay. If you're my girlfriend, then come with me somewhere."
He took me to his place in a run-down part of Brooklyn.
The door creaked open, releasing a musty aroma.
The tiny apartment was dim and damp, containing only a narrow single bed against the wall.
Not even a chair in the place.
Connor sat on the edge of the bed, lit a cigarette, and didn't look up. "Sit."
The only place to sit was the bed, and he was planted firmly in the middle of it.
My eyes narrowed. I walked over and sat directly on his lap.
Connor went rigid.
His cigarette hand hovered awkwardly before he put it out on the floor.
"What do you want now? I gave you my whole paycheck this month."
Connor already knew Vivian didn't love him.
Visiting the campus was his last-ditch effort to confirm it, expecting to see her accept her new boyfriend, Chad.
That's when her love for Connor was actualized.
Chad secretly co-founded a tech startup.
It was just starting to get off the ground, but he definitely wasn't burdened financially.
He just didn't want to spend his money on a gold-digger like me.
"I don't want your money," I said, shifting slightly.
"I want something else."
Connor raised an eyebrow.
"You're not going to say my body, are you?"
He was hot, tall, built, with a face that belonged on a billboard.
He was definitely eye-candy.
"I don't like Chad Harrington," I blurted out.
"The guy bought me roses, but he just won't leave me alone!
"I thought marrying rich was your end goal?"
The money was great, but being happy is more fulfilling.
In the past life, I had married the rich guy.
He cheated on me, physically abused me, and when I tried to leave, he chained me up in the basement.
I needed someone strong to save me from this catastrophe, and Connor was the perfect candidate.
"Why would you think I'd want to help you?"
His voice was cold.
"Because of your pretty face?"
I slid off his lap and knelt in front of him, looking up.
My face was my best leverage.
It had gotten me everything in my past life, including Connor's eventual rescue from that psycho Chad. All because of my face.
"I will graduate in a year," I said, showing as much sincerity as I could.
"I can get an internship, do some work, and pay you back."
"I don't need your money. Get out."
Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door.