Chapter 4

If this deal had gone through, the thirty million would've been locked in.

I didn't have time to overthink it. I called Derek.

He was at a party somewhere. Over the noise, his voice came through dripping with sarcasm, "Well? Change your mind already?"

I gripped the phone, each word heavy.

"Derek. Why did you steal my studio's project?"

His tone was smug, condescending.

"Because you wouldn't listen. I had to teach you a lesson."

I took a breath.

"You know how much this project means to me. If I land it, I can—"

"Can what? Make your family finally take you seriously?"

He cut me off with a laugh.

"You've never mattered to them. What's the point of all this struggling? Just do what I say, and maybe your parents will toss you a few shares out of respect for me."

Someone in the background shouted something. One of his groomsmen.

"Hey, is the missus coming after you?"

Derek muttered to the room, "Relax. She's just being dramatic."

Then I heard Riley's voice, close to the phone.

"Is she upset? Should I explain? I really didn't mean to steal her project—the organizers came to me—"

"Nothing to do with you. I bid lower. They went with the better offer."

My stomach dropped.

My colleague had said Derek had stolen the project, but he hadn't done it under the Robner Group. It was a brand-new floral studio called Riley's Bloom.

When I spoke again, my voice trembled.

"Derek. You stole my project and gave it to Riley just so I'd be a pretty little housewife for you?"

"What else are you good for?"

Riley chimed in sweetly, "Derek, don't talk to her like that."

He snorted.

"See? Riley's defending you. And you? You snap at me over everything. I can put up with it before the wedding, but after? No chance."

The laughter and jeers swelled in the background. I closed my eyes.

"Then let's not have a wedding."

There were two seconds of silence, then Derek scoffed.

"Threatening me now? Fine. Don't marry me, then. We'll see how hard you come crawling back."

I hung up and blocked him on everything.

Back at the party, someone muttered, "Derek, don't you think you went a little far? Stealing her project, talking like that… what if she actually calls it off?"

Derek waved it off.

"You don't know her. She was willing to blow off her father's deal just to marry me. She's not walking away over a few words.

"Megan's got a temper—I know that. If I don't put her in her place now, she'll be a nightmare after we're married."

Riley poured him a drink.

"So, for tomorrow's wedding…"

"Yeah, skip the pickup. I'll show up two hours late. Let her wait."

He downed the glass.

"She needs to learn I'm not desperate for her."

…

On the supposed wedding day, Derek strolled in at two in the afternoon.

Riley was in that white gown, arm linked through his, walking in like they owned the place.

But the ballroom was chaos. No bride. No sign of Megan.

"Where is she?"

One of the groomsmen ran over, shoving a phone in his face.

"Derek—look. She got married. To someone else."

On the screen was Megan's social media post from ten that morning.

She was in a white blouse, beaming, leaning against a man's shoulder. His face wasn't visible, but both of them held up their marriage certificates.

Derek's mouth opened. Nothing came out. His hands started to shake.