My fiance's precious childhood crush, Amber Sweeney, was in a political union with the infamous Julian Grant, heir to the Grant family empire and a notorious playboy.

Unable to stand the thought of Amber being "sacrificed", Ryan Carter barged into her wedding to stop it. They registered their marriage that day, making headlines across the city.

The whole of D.C.'s elite waited to watch me and the Grant family become the city's biggest joke.

What they didn't expect was that on the very next day, Julian would roll up to my company in his high-key sports car, leaning against the hood like he had all the time in the world.

"Your fiance stole my bride. You'll be repaying that debt by marrying me. Fair trade, right?"

I stared at his blazing red hair and wild grin, and smiled back coolly. "Sounds fair to me."

When Julian Grant saw how easily I agreed to his marriage proposal, one of his eyebrows lifted. The little stud at the tail end caught the light and sparkled with his movement.

To people like us, marriage was just another weight on the scale of business interests. Who you married barely mattered.

So, his surprise vanished just as fast. A moment later, he was back to his devil-may-care, cocky self.

"Cool. I’ll swing by tomorrow to talk wedding plans. Gotta go handle a bunch of crusty old men tonight. What a pain," he grumbled, ruffling his already chaotic curls.

I couldn’t help but chuckle and reached out to push a lock of hair off his forehead. "No rush. Just call me when you’ve got time."

He seemed pleased with my easygoing attitude. After a few more offhand remarks, he swaggered away.

I went home as usual, only to find someone I’d hoped to never see again waiting outside my private villa—Ryan Carter.

"Well, if it isn’t Mr. Carter out for a walk. Odd trail you’ve picked, ending up in a private estate like mine."

Ryan looked uncomfortable, forcing out an awkward laugh.

"Claire, don’t be like that. About what happened the other day…I didn’t have a choice, okay? You know Amber’s personality. She keeps everything to herself. If she married that player from the Grants, she’d be cheated on before the honeymoon was over. I couldn’t just watch her walk into hell."

My face was blank.

He couldn’t stand the thought of Amber Sweeney suffering, but he was just fine with turning me—his fiancee—into the city’s laughingstock?

How did that make sense?

I didn’t care to argue. I brushed past him toward the house, but he made an attempt to grab my arm.

"Say what you need to say. Don’t touch me."

"Claire, are you really drawing the line like this? I married Amber, yeah, but that doesn’t mean we’re done! It’s just a marriage certificate and doesn’t change how I feel. We can still be together. Sure, you won’t have a title, but I know you love me enough to accept that, right?"

His eyes were full of hope.

I frowned, honestly baffled by how shameless he could be. Was he seriously asking me to be his mistress?

I laughed, feeling so furious that I could barely breathe. "Ryan, you seriously overestimate your worth. There’s nothing to salvage here. Let's go our separate ways. Don’t bother me again."

I was dead serious, but he clearly thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He tugged on my sleeve, still smiling like an idiot.

"Okay, okay, don’t be so harsh. I know you’re upset I married someone else. But I promise, I’ll treat you both fairly. You and Amber are the loves of my life. Sure, she’s my legal wife, but I won’t let her overshadow you. Sound good?"

I stared at him. Did my parents really pick this guy to be my fiance?

Nonetheless, my upbringing wouldn’t allow me to lose my temper so easily. I checked the time. I might as well settle everything now.

"Ryan, let me be clear. I don’t love you. We just happened to grow up together, and our parents just happened to pair us up. All these years, I’ve only ever done what was expected of a fiancee. I never liked you.

"So who you love, who you marry—none of it concerns me. You don’t need to tell me anything, and I don’t care what you think.

"Did I spell that out clearly enough? If there’s nothing else, please leave."

I saw his expression shift into one of shock, disbelief, and finally full-blown rage. His face flushed red.

"Claire, what the hell is wrong with you? You’re just lying to make me mad! I came here. I apologized. What else do you want from me? You think I don’t have pride? Even Amber was willing to compromise. Who do you think you are, saying no to me?

"Offering to make you my mistress is already more than you deserve. Ask around. No one in this city wants to deal with your nouveau riche family. I’m the only one who didn’t care!

"You won’t come down from your high horse? Fine. You’ll regret this!"

He stormed off, tires screeching as he peeled out of my driveway.

I stood there, watching the exhaust smoke swirl in the air, feeling a mix of things. To say I had no feelings for him wasn’t completely true. We did grow up together.

However, whatever sliver of affection might’ve lingered had long been burned out. Every time he chose Amber over me, it chipped away until nothing was left.

Julian didn’t forget our deal.

The very next morning, he invited me to meet at a private restaurant.

I barely recognized him. His fire-engine red hair was dyed black, and all his bold jewelry and studded outfits were gone. He only wore a plain white shirt and jeans.

I glanced at his eyebrow, and he smiled like he knew what I was thinking.

"It was just glued on. For fun. What? Don’t recognize me?"

I chuckled. "Not quite."

Everything went smoothly. We booked the most exclusive venue and agreed on the scale of the event. Decorations and attire? All Julian’s call. We split costs down the middle.

He leaned on one hand, cheeks puffed with churros, looking like a cartoon hamster. "All up to me? Don’t you care? It’s your wedding too."

I shrugged. "They say compliant wives bring fortune. I’m just trying to boost your luck."

Julian laughed so loud that the waiter turned around. That’s when I noticed that his eyes were sharp, and when he smiled, two little dimples danced on his cheeks. He looked nothing like the wild party boy the media made him out to be.

After we wrapped up, Julian had family matters to attend to and left first.

As I stepped out of our private room, guess who I bumped into? Ryan and Amber.

They looked stunned. Ryan recovered quickly, glancing at me and the now-empty room behind me.

"Oh, you followed us here, didn’t you? Come on, someone like you only ever eats grab-and-go. No way you belong here." He sneered. "You were lying to me back then, weren’t you? You can’t stand seeing me with Amber."

Amber chimed in, all sweet concern, "Ryan, stop. Claire’s already heartbroken that she couldn’t marry you. This is all my fault..."

As she spoke, the car keys dangling from her wrist flashed like a beacon; it was a limited-edition supercar. There was no way she bought that herself. Ryan must have gifted it. Head to toe, she was decked out in luxury brands.

Meanwhile, when I dated him, I never got a scarf, let alone a car. I even transferred him money now and then so he could go clubbing. I had believed him when he used to plead poverty to me.

Now I knew better. He played me for a fool long before Amber came into the picture.

She caught me staring and doubled down on the smug smile.

Before I could say anything, Ryan beat me to it. "Why apologize? She’s the one who won’t let go. She should be begging us."

Then, he smirked and raised his chin. "You want me back, Claire? Not impossible, but I’ve got conditions now.

"You trashed me last night, so I’m gonna need compensation for emotional damage. Say, a million a month for Amber and me. New outfits and handbags delivered every season. Oh, and don’t bother us when we’re together. The wedding is for Amber only."

He rattled off demands like he was reading off a grocery list. The most absurd part? He thought he was being generous.

I swept my gaze across both of them and said flatly, "Do you want the Sullivan Group to sponsor your mental healthcare? I know an amazing neurologist overseas. Want an introduction?"

Ryan blinked. His face turned beet red. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. Just that you’re both nuts."

His outraged screams followed me down the hall.

I didn’t turn back once. Some things weren’t worth my energy.

Our wedding was set for the tenth of the following month.

Julian and I were both swamped with work, so we agreed that he’d just swing by and pick me up on the day of our wedding.

As I scrolled through the checklist that the wedding planner sent over, the whole thing felt surreal. Not long ago, I thought I was done with marriage altogether after Ryan bailed on me.

Now I was actually getting married.

My mom was worried I was rushing it out of heartbreak. She tried her best to talk me down.

I shut the book I’d been reading. For some reason, a memory flashed across my mind—Julian swaggering outside my office, smiling with those dimples.

"Don’t worry, Mom. Julian’s a good guy. And besides, marriage is the same with anyone, right? You and Dad taught me to look past emotion and focus on the benefits."

She was speechless for a second, then sighed and hung up.

I tilted my head up, staring at the stars, wondering when I’d become like this—someone whose whole world revolved around "value" and "meaning". Cold, calculating, and rational to the point of being fake, like a machine set to perfect precision.

The next few days were a blur of deadlines. I was buried in files when my assistant knocked gently.

"Ms. Sullivan, there’s someone here for you. He says he’s delivering a—"

He didn’t even get to finish.

A booming voice cut through the office, "Claire! I brought you an invitation!"

Of course. It was Ryan again. He marched in and tossed a gilded envelope on my desk like it was a mic drop.

"My wedding with Amber is coming. Hope to see you there. You’re running out of time, you know. After the wedding, my heart belongs to her. Don’t come crawling back. By then, it’ll be too late."

The man who ditched me, who wanted to have it both ways, now expected me to beg for his forgiveness?

I smiled, opened the invite, and raised a brow at the date: May 10.

Then, I casually tossed it into the trash.

"Well, thanks for thinking of me, but that kind of love story’s wasted on me. Better save it for Miss Sweeney."

He stared at the trash can, his face going red in seconds. "You ungrateful—this was your last chance! You—"

I didn’t have time for his drama. Between clients and coordinating guest lists with Julian, my day was already packed.

I rubbed my temples. "Ryan, I’ve told you, there’s nothing left between us. If you can act like a normal human being, our families can still do business. But if you keep coming at me with this delusional crap, we’re done. Professionally and personally."

Ryan had been spoiled all his life. He didn’t care about business. He thought my family was still the same tacky, rich upstart from years ago. He never bothered to see how much had changed.

His face twitched as I typed an internal company memo. "You want to burn that bridge? Fine. We don’t need your charity. You think I care if the Sullivans cut ties? Go ahead. I dare you to cut off every single funding line we have!"

I looked up, met his smug glare, and nodded. "Sure. As you wish."