The night before the wedding, Sloan Tanner got a package from her fiancé’s sister — a used condom.

With a smug smile, she taunted, “Bet you didn’t know but…Wyatt screwed me more than ten times last night. I could barely get out of bed this morning.”

Sloan was about to confront her fiancé when she accidentally overheard him on the phone with his sister.

His voice was cold and distant, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking smile.

“Don’t worry. Once the marriage gives me the advantage I need, I’ll find a way to divorce her and get rid of her.”

“I only see her as a practice run. She’s stiff and boring—nothing compared to you. You can always drives me wild.”

Sloan’s face turned deathly pale, her heart twisting painfully in her chest. She never imagined that after all these years of love and devotion, she’d end up being nothing more than a convenient practice run.

If that’s how it was, then fine. She’d let him have what he wanted.

——

“He is such a scumbag! I can’t believe he’s been cheating on you. And with his own sister? That guy’s disgusting!” Harper Kemp stormed toward Sloan, wrapping her in a protective hug.

Sloan’s face remained unnervingly calm, her eyes cold and empty. She glanced down at the diamond engagement ring on her finger.

“Harp, I need your help,” she started. “I want you to fake my death two weeks from now. On the day of the wedding.” A bitter smile curled her lips.

Six years. She had endured this one-sided, toxic love for six long years. Now it was time to end it.

Harper froze, staring at her in disbelief. But when she saw Sloan’s tear-filled, bloodshot eyes, she realized Sloan was serious. Her heart twisted painfully at the sight of her best friend like this. Who would have thought that Wyatt Finley—the man who seemed so deeply in love with Sloan—would be capable of such betrayal?

“Why would you want to…?” Harper trailed off, but then her expression hardened with resolve. “Alright. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Harper pulled Sloan into another comforting hug. “Anyway, it’s been ages since we last hung out. How about we hit the mall and do some shopping?”

Sloan smiled faintly, but nodded.

At the mall, wedding announcements featuring Sloan and Wyatt were plastered everywhere—sweet pictures of them smiling at each other, eyes filled with affection. Anyone looking at them would assume they were the perfect couple.

Passersby were buzzing with excitement as they talked about the lovebirds.

“Aren't they just perfect together? He's the future heir of the Finley Family and she's the heiress of the Tanner Family. I heard they've been together since they were kids. Once those two families unite, they'll be unstoppable.”

“I heard that when Sloan disappeared, Wyatt defied his family’s attempts to arrange a marriage with another woman. He even posted on social media, saying he wouldn’t marry anyone but Sloan. Apparently, it caused such a huge fight that his family almost disowned him. Isn't that just the sweetest thing? Ugh, why can’t I have a love story like that?”

The constant chatter of admiration and envy buzzed in Sloan's ears.

Her face remained impassive, but her heart twisted painfully, as though an iron fist was squeezing it tight, cutting off her breath.

It was precisely because of these beautiful memories that she had held on for so long, foolishly believing that he still loved her. But love only counts when it's still there.

And Wyatt had long since stopped loving her.

Suddenly, the sound of commotion drew her attention.

Wyatt had just walked into the mall, his arm wrapped intimately around a woman bundled up in an expensive designer coat.

“Mr. Finley, is this your fiancée? You two look so good together! I can't believe you’re taking time off from running Finley Corp just to go shopping with her. My husband only makes three grand a month and he still complain about being too busy! I should make him come here and see what a good husband looks like.”

Wyatt said nothing, but he smiled. 

The woman on his arm was Carol Finley—Wyatt’s adoptive sister. They had no blood relation, but the way they were wrapped around each other left little room for misinterpretation.

Over the years, Carol had always been a wedge between Sloan and Wyatt. At first, Sloan had thought Carol was just a lonely little girl craving love, which was why she tolerated her constant interference. Maybe it was because they both had difficult upbringings that Sloan even treated Carol with affection, almost like a little sister.

But Carol never appreciated it.

Instead, she would deliberately share a bowl of food with Wyatt, drink from the same glass and even sleep in the same bed—right in front of Sloan.

And then, Carol had the audacity to say, “Sloan! As long as I’m around, you’ll never have Wyatt fully. He loves me the most. If you insist on being blind about this, don’t blame me when you’re left with nothing but an empty title as Mrs. Finley!”

Sloan had brushed it off at the time, confident that Wyatt’s love and respect for her were unshakable. He had always treated her with the utmost care, both in public and in private. He couldn’t possibly betray her like that.

Until he did.

Until he started choosing Carol over her. Over and over again.

Harper Kemp, Sloan’s best friend, stood to the side, her face twisted with rage. She was ready to expose Wyatt for the cheating scumbag he was, but Sloan stopped her with a trembling hand.

“It’s not worth it,” Sloan said weakly. “Come on, let’s go.”

Her legs gave out beneath her and she collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably as sobs tore through her chest. Tears streamed down her face, no longer held back. The beautiful memories they had built together shattered before her eyes, leaving only broken pieces that could never be put back together.

Harper rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around Sloan’s shoulders. “Come on, babe. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

While Harper stepped out to buy some soup, Wyatt arrived at the hospital, breathless and anxious.

“Congratulations, Mr. Finley! Your fiancee is pregnant!” the doctor announced with a bright smile.

A flash of joy crossed Wyatt’s face before concern immediately took over. “How is Sloan? Is she okay?”

The doctor adjusted Sloan’s blanket and smiled warmly. “She is fine. Just fainted from emotional shock. You two must be so close—Mr. Finley, you seem more worried about her than the baby–just like the rumors say. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Wyatt smiled and thanked the doctor, his hand tightening around Sloan’s.

He didn’t notice how quiet Sloan had become.

She already knew that even if they had a child together, there was no going back to the way things were.

It was the child she felt sorry for—it had come at the wrong time, in the middle of a broken relationship.

After the doctor left, Wyatt took her hand between his, his thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. His voice was soft and filled with quiet excitement.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said, his eyes bright with hope. “We’re going to be a happy family of three. I will—”

Before he could finish, his phone buzzed.

Wyatt glanced at the screen, his expression tightening as he instinctively angled the phone away from Sloan’s view.

Sloan’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “Who is it?” she asked softly.

Wyatt’s face remained calm. “Just work.”

But as he read the message, his brow creased and his fingers moved quickly across the screen, typing a reply.

Sloan reached for his arm, her touch light but pleading. “I’m not feeling well. Can you stay with me for a little while?”

Wyatt was about to put the phone down when another message popped up—this time, a picture.

It was Carol, smiling smugly, her arm draped around the neck of a young male celebrity. Her expression was playful, teasing and a little provocative.

Wyatt’s mouth curled into a helpless, indulgent smile.

“I’d love to but I can’t,” Wyatt said, standing up. “Something came up at work. They need me. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

He kissed her forehead before walking away without a second glance.

Sloan’s heart twisted painfully. She had known this would happen. She had known Carol would always come first.

How could she have been so foolish to think that years of companionship could compete with the pull of first love?

Sloan pulled the blanket over her head and sobbed until her chest hurt.

Not long after, Sloan’s phone buzzed with a message. It was a video from Carol.

In the video, Wyatt was holding Carol’s hand, his voice low and coaxing. “My little princess, stop hanging around with those guys. They’re no good for you. Come on, be good and come home.”

“No!” Carol’s voice wavered, thick with hurt. “Aren't you about to marry that woman? Why are you even here?” A bitter smile curled her lips. “Since you don’t want me anymore, why shouldn’t I find someone else? I can be with any man I want—I could even marry him if I wanted to. What are you gonna do about it?”

Wyatt’s expression darkened, jealousy flashing in his eyes like a storm about to break loose.

He grabbed Carol’s arm and pulled her into his arms. “You’re not allowed to be with anyone else,” he said, his voice sharp and possessive. “I’m the only one you’re allowed to be with.”

Carol gave a taunting smile at the camera before leaning down and kissing him.

Sloan couldn’t watch the rest of it. Her vision blurred with tears.

Because Wyatt had said those exact same words to her once.

Back then, her adoptive mother had been seriously ill. The Tanner Family had promised to help her find the best doctor and cover the expensive medical bills—but the catch was that Sloan had to become a pawn in a strategic marriage.

With no other option, she told Wyatt and broke up with him. She could still remember how Wyatt’s eyes had turned bloodshot that day as he clung to her desperately, swearing that he would marry her no matter what.

Later, after cutting ties with his family, he had knelt down and begged the family head for forgiveness, enduring humiliation and paying a steep price to make the marriage between the two families possible.

But Sloan had never been the long-lost heiress everyone envied. She was just a bargaining chip, a convenient piece in a calculated deal.

And she wasn’t the beloved fiancée everyone thought she was—she was just the catalyst that made this whole mess possible.

This moment confirmed what she had always feared: she was nothing more than a placeholder in Wyatt’s life.

A week passed. Wyatt never came to visit her, not even when she was discharged from the hospital.

Sloan ignored the messages and calls from Harper Kemp, choosing instead to return alone to the Grant estate.

As soon as she stepped inside, the sound of carefree laughter echoed through the house. Carol was running around barefoot in Sloan’s pajamas.

Wyatt followed behind her, holding a pair of matching slippers. “Carol, stop running around. Come here and put these on. You’ll catch a cold.”

“No.” Carol pouted like a spoiled child. “Carry me! I want piggy back!” 

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist, her fingers teasing the back of his hair.

Wyatt’s jaw tightened, but instead of pushing her away, he carried her effortlessly to the dining table, setting her down. His expression softened as he brushed his thumb across the tip of her nose. “Stop being difficult, or I’m going to punish you. You’re not a kid anymore, Carol.” 

The two of them were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice Sloan standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. She clenched the door handle, forcing down the hurt rising in her chest. Then, with a calm expression, she punched in the code and walked inside.

Hearing the door open, Wyatt instinctively pushed Carol away.

“Sloan… You’re out of the hospital?” His smile was tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Maybe it was guilt, but Wyatt immediately started explaining. “This is Carol. She is my mom’s goddaughter. You’ve met her before. She just got back in town yesterday and needed a place to stay for a few days. About the pajamas—”

“It’s fine. Just fabric,” Sloan cut him off. Without waiting for a reaction, she turned and headed upstairs.

If she was going to leave, she needed to cut all ties—wipe out every trace of him from her life.

Upstairs, Sloan began rummaging through her closet, gathering all the gifts Wyatt had ever given her—bracelets, handwritten notes, clothes and tossing them into a cardboard box.

Wyatt panicked at the sight of her packing. His voice trembled. “Sloan, I’m sorry. I know I screwed up. I didn’t know Carol took your pajamas—I’ll tell her to leave right now if that’s what you want! You can yell at me, punish me the way you want but just don’t leave me!”