After 99 Broken Weddings, I Married His Rival

Start Reading

The ninety-ninth attempt at our wedding. When it came time to exchange rings, my fianc lifted his hand and slid the band onto the maid of honor's ring finger.

The ring goes on Brooklyn Fox first. You can use the pull-tab off a soda can for now.

I froze where I stood.

Quinn Vance went on.

The three of us are doing the ceremony together today. Brooklyn just went through a breakup, she's not doing well, and she wants to feel what it's like to be a bride.

"I already agreed. She'll be standing in for you for the rest of the ceremony."

The officiant, mic in hand, forced himself through the script. "Will the groom now kiss his bride"

I looked up. Quinn's girl "buddy" Brooklyn had already tucked herself into his arms.

Seeing me bite down hard on my lip, he sighed.

"A wedding is just a formality. What difference does it make who stands there? When are you going to be as reasonable as Brooklyn?"

"If you're really that unhappy about it, we'll just redo it for you next time. Women are so much trouble."

When I said nothing, he tossed out those words, scooped Brooklyn up, and walked off without a backward glance.

Leaving me, once again, to face the sneers and the humiliation of every guest in the room.

I looked at the ring box he'd dropped on the floor, and all at once none of it seemed worth anything.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the number that had called me one hundred and eight times.

"Rupert Rowe, does your family still need a daughter-in-law? I'm in a bit of a rush. The wedding has to be done within three days."

The voice on the other end lifted with delight. "Really? That's wonderful. I'll have that boy submit a marriage application to his unit right away."

"Callie Pratt, don't you worry. If that boy dares mistreat you or let you down, I'll be the first one to break both his legs."

Bitterness spread through me. I fought down the crack in my voice and went on. "All right. Then thank you, Rupert, for taking me in."

I hung up, tore off my veil, and lifted my head to face the guests who'd come for the show.

Quinn left me his messes every single time, but this time I wasn't going to clean any of it up.

There would be no more partnership between the Vances and the Pratts. Nothing that touched the Pratt family's interests could reach me now.

Without a word, I turned and walked out.

Quinn and I had loved each other for five years. Ninety-nine weddings, and not one of them had come off.

The first time, he got word that Brooklyn had a stomachache, and he drove through the night across four cities to bring her congee, missing our wedding.

The second time, Brooklyn got drunk at a bar and was about to drag some other man off to a room, so he left me standing at the venue in my wedding dress.

The ninety-eighth time, he rushed out during the vows because Brooklyn had sent a photo of her "slit wrist"

Brooklyn, Brooklyn, always his childhood-sweetheart girl "buddy" Brooklyn.

This time, I was truly worn out.

If marriage was the same no matter who I married, then I didn't have to keep choosing Quinn.

Out of the wedding dress, I sat down at the vanity, my gaze falling to the plain silver couple's band on my index finger.

It was the gift Quinn had given me for our first anniversary as a couple.

Back then he'd slipped it onto my index finger with his whole heart, kissed the back of my hand, and said, his eyes full of devotion, "The company isn't doing well right now, and it's hard on you, sticking with me through the lean times. On the day we officially marry, you'll trade this in with me for a bigger, finer ring, and I'll put it on your middle finger for all to see. After the wedding, you'll wear it on your ring finger. I want everyone to know you're my wife."

Too bad promises only counted while love lasted.

I came back to myself, calmly took off the ring, and set it on the vanity.

Then I rose and went into the dressing room.

I'd just loosened the wedding gown when the door opened.

"Strange. I definitely saw that little bitch come in here. Where'd she go?"

"Tch, if you ask me, she's probably hiding in the bathroom crying. Why don't we go check?"

"Look at this, isn't this the ring she was always so precious about? She actually took it off. Guess she really did fall apart this time. Hahaha"

The mocking voices poured into my ears, one after another.

The voice was familiar. It was Quinn's friend.

I was just about to step out and confront them when I heard someone say, "What a piece of junk this ring is. You can tell at a glance it's cheap, nothing compared to the top-grade sapphire my brother gave Brooklyn. Ugh, and that bitch actually wore it. Filthy."

That was Quinn's younger sister. I'd stayed up nights tutoring her, and she used to cling to me and call me sister.

She'd said that without my help she never would've scored so well, and that if Quinn ever treated me badly, she'd be the first to object.

"I heard this was Quinn's first-anniversary gift to her, and she treasured it like her life. But what she doesn't know is that on that very night, Quinn had Brooklyn pinned down going through a hundred and eight positions, went through eight boxes of condoms, and afterward he gave Brooklyn five villas and a set of jewelry worth tens of millions as a present."

That was Quinn's friend. The one who'd once asked me to bring him documents he'd left at home.

That day it was pouring. My tires slipped and I hit a lamppost, and the engine died.

Soaked through and running a high fever by the time I got the documents to him, I earned his endless thanks. He'd said those papers were tied to a project worth tens of millions, that I'd saved his life.

"This piece-of-junk ring was nothing but a freebie thrown in with that jewelry set. Only a cheap thing like her would cherish it."

At that last sentence, I stood there as if struck by lightning, all the blood in my body running backward.

A freebie?

So over all these years, nearly everything that had trickled down to me through Quinn's fingers had been Brooklyn's castoffs?

And Quinn had already cheated on me, long ago?

Back when I first noticed there was someone new around Quinn, I asked him right away what was going on. He'd only told me, breezily,

"Why's my sweetheart getting jealous over nothing? She's just my girl buddy, don't read into it. If that little tomboy and I were going to be together, we'd have been together ages ago."

Later Brooklyn provoked me at every turn, targeted me, and when I finally couldn't take it anymore, I lost control and slapped her.

After that, Quinn's favoritism toward Brooklyn only grew more blatant, guarding her like the apple of his eye.

For the first time, he lost his temper over Brooklyn and smashed the couple's ceramic dolls we'd made with our own hands.

For the first time, he left me stranded at the company until midnight on a snowy night and turned around to go pick up Brooklyn, and I ran a high fever and spent three days in the hospital because of it.

For the first time, while I was in surgery, he rode roller coasters with Brooklyn at an amusement park.

It was as though, once Brooklyn had the title of girl buddy, Quinn had his excuse to openly cross every line with her.

When Brooklyn drove me to a breakdown and I confronted Quinn in a frenzy, only then did he tell me, careless as ever, "She's my first love, but there's nothing left between us. It's only brotherly affection now. She was betrayed by her ex-boyfriend, and it's only right that I look after her as a friend. Can't you be a little more sensible and stop being so paranoid all the time? You're wearing me out."

I'd thought Quinn was only acting out of a sense of duty. Who could have known it had been outright betrayal all along.

Like a fool, I'd been kept in the dark by every one of them.

The conversation outside sent dizziness rolling through me in waves. My fingers dug into the doorframe of the dressing room, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep the sob from spilling out.

So four years ago, when I'd slid that ring onto my finger with my heart full of joy, Quinn had already betrayed me.

Even when he'd said he loved me, it had been a lie.

The most laughable part was that everyone but me had known the truth.

They'd watched me plan ninety-nine weddings, watched me put on the gown again and again, watched Quinn walk out on me again and again.

While I held a smile in place, soothing the guests and cleaning up the wreckage, they'd probably been tucked away in some corner, laughing at how foolish I was, laughing that I'd treasured a mere freebie for four whole years.

I didn't know how long it was before the voices outside finally faded.

I pushed open the dressing room door. The vast banquet hall stood empty.

A mess strewn across the floor, and no one to clean it up.

Just like the ninety-eight times before, Quinn's only job was to leave. The mess left behind always belonged to me.

But this time, I didn't call the hotel, and I didn't offer any explanations to the guests.

I turned and walked out of the hall, and went straight to the Vance residence.

When Mrs. Vance saw me come in alone, in nothing but a thin gown, she seemed to have already guessed something.

"The ninety-ninth time, and it still didn't happen?"

I didn't answer. I only knelt down in front of her.

"Mrs. Vance, I no longer want to marry Quinn. You were right. He truly is no good match for me."

"I'm willing to repay the Vance family's kindness with five percent of the Pratt shares, to dissolve the marriage alliance with Quinn. From this day on, we owe each other nothing."

Her gaze lingered on my face for a long while, and in the end she didn't try to talk me out of it.

"What do you plan to do next?"

"My mother has only half a month left." Even saying the word, my throat tightened past my control.

She'd already held on far too long, just to see me settled into a marriage.

I couldn't let her waste what little time she had left on Quinn breaking his promises, over and over again.

"The one thing she can't rest easy about is my marriage." I drew a deep breath and said each word clearly: "So in three days, I'll be marrying into the Rowe family."

The hand turning her prayer beads went still.

She clearly knew of the Rowe family, and of their only son, a ruthless man with no interest in women.

She'd heard long ago that the Rowe heir had someone he'd loved for years but could never have. Whether this alliance was a blessing or a curse, there was no telling.

After a moment, she let out a low sigh.

"So be it. Butler, bring the box."

Before long, the butler handed over a gift box.

Mrs. Vance passed it to me and said, "This is your family's heirloom. When the two families set the engagement, your father gave it to the Vances. Now that the engagement is broken, it should return to its rightful owner."

"Thank you for granting my wish, Mrs. Vance. I'll return the Vance token in three days."

I took the wooden box in both hands and placed it carefully into my bag.

Before I stepped out of the Vance residence, I paused.

"Please don't tell Quinn just yet."

"Three days from now, once my mother has seen me married with her own eyes, then you can tell him. I don't want any complications."

Mrs. Vance looked at me for a moment, and finally nodded.

"All right."

I got back to the villa, and the instant I opened the door, a heavy odor hit me in the face.

Women's clothes were scattered across the living room, a pair of heels tipped over beside the couch. The coffee table was piled with empty bottles and crumpled tissues, and a few unspeakable garments lay tossed across the rug.

Where a photo of Quinn and me had once hung on the wall, there was now only an empty frame.

The picture of me had been dropped into the trash without a second thought.

I froze in the doorway.

This villa had been my father's gift for my twenty-second birthday.

Quinn said he didn't like living with the older generation, so I'd let him move in.

Later he complained the original decor felt cold and empty, so I drew up the design plans myself and spent a full six months turning the place into what he liked.

And now someone was in my house, brazenly erasing every trace of me.

My stomach lurched.

I rushed into the bathroom and gripped the edge of the sink, gagging.

A soft laugh came from behind me.

"Oh, Miss Pratt is back?"

I lifted my head.

Brooklyn leaned against the doorway, wearing my silk robe.

It was the wedding gift my mother had picked out for me by hand, back when I was planning my first wedding.

Now the sash hung loose around Brooklyn's waist, and there was a glaring lipstick mark on the collar.

She glanced down at the mess on the floor, her smile turning even more smug.

"The house is a little messy."

"Since you're back, you might as well tidy it up. Quinn doesn't like it when the place smells."

I turned the faucet on and rinsed the bitterness from my mouth.

"Take off the robe."

Brooklyn blinked.

"What?"

"I said, take off my robe, then get out."

I straightened, steadying myself, and came face to face with Brooklyn, who wore nothing but defiance.

I twisted my lips into a sneer. "A cheap little mistress, and you think you've got the standing to run your mouth here?"

Brooklyn stared at me, then suddenly laughed.

"Callie, have you still not figured out where you stand?"

"Quinn dropped you today so he could be with me. Your wedding failed ninety-nine times, but he was willing to spend a whole night here, with me."

She stepped up close, and gave the collar of the robe a showy little tug.

"It's not just this robe. He's promised me this house too."

I finally turned to look at her.

"He promised?"

"That's right."

"Pity. It's not his to give."

I picked up my phone and dialed building management.

"This is Callie, the owner of Villa No. 17. Someone has entered my home without permission. Please send someone over to handle it."

The moment I hung up, Brooklyn's expression darkened completely.

"Callie, you dare throw me out?"

"This is my house."

I looked at the robe on her.

"What you're wearing is mine too."

"As for Quinn"

I paused, suddenly finding that even saying the name left me exhausted.

"If you like him, take him."

The smugness in Brooklyn's eyes was instantly replaced by fury.

She'd wanted to see me lose control, wanted to see me cry and beg her to leave Quinn.

But my reaction clearly hadn't given her what she wanted.

"Why the act, pretending you don't care?"

She let out a cold laugh.

"You'd have married him ninety-nine times over, and now all of a sudden you say you don't want him? Who's going to believe that?"

"Whether you believe it is your problem."

I moved around her, ready to go get the robe my mother had given me.

But Brooklyn suddenly seized my wrist.

"Callie, you've always thought you were nobler than me, hiding behind that pedigree of yours, haven't you?"

"Today I'll make you see clearly who really matters most in Quinn's heart!"

The words had barely left her mouth when she gripped my hand and slammed it hard across her own face.

A sharp crack rang out.

Brooklyn staggered and fell to the floor, half her face flushing red in an instant.

At almost the same moment, Quinn's icy voice came from behind me.

"What are you two doing?"

Brooklyn's body trembled, and tears spilled out at once.

She threw herself into Quinn's arms, crying until she shook all over.

"Quinn, don't blame Miss Pratt"

"I was only trying to calm her down. The place was such a mess, I wanted to call the cleaners in, but she slapped me out of nowhere."

"It's all my fault for making Miss Pratt angry"

Quinn shielded her against his chest, his sharp gaze landing on me.

He didn't ask a single question. He only spat two words at me.

"Apologize."

I looked at him, and suddenly I remembered that banquet five years ago.

Back then someone had slipped a piece of missing jewelry into my handbag, and everyone was certain I was the thief.

Only Quinn stood between me and them.

He pulled the hotel's security footage, tracked down the dashcam recordings of nearby cars, even went through every guest's arrival and departure times himself, until he'd proven my innocence.

I asked him why he was willing to believe me.

Back then, he'd pulled me into his arms, earnest to the point of reverence.

"Because I know what kind of person you are."

"Even if the whole world doesn't believe you, I'll stand behind you."

"Callie, I'll be your safe harbor for the rest of your life."

But now, the man who'd once turned over every scrap of evidence to clear my name wouldn't even hear a single explanation.

My safe harbor had long since become the knife pointed at me.

"I didn't set her up."

This was the last time I would explain.

Quinn's expression grew darker.

"Callie, don't make me say it twice."

I looked at Brooklyn, weeping in his arms, then at the torn photo of us in the trash can.

The last flicker of impulse to prove myself finally went out for good.

"Think whatever you want."

Explanations are for people who care about you.

People who don't will only think you're making excuses.

Crack!

One side of my face swelled up.

I stared at Quinn in disbelief. I never thought he would actually hit me.

"Since you won't apologize, then as your husband, I'll do it myself and teach you a lesson you won't forget."

Quinn said, his face full of rage.

"As the future Mrs. Vance, you should know how to carry yourself, when to push and when to yield. You shouldn't be so petty. Understand?"

"Brooklyn is simple-hearted. She's never once thought about competing with you for anything. It's youyou keep bullying her, hiding behind the engagement between our two families."

"Callie, you used to be so kind. Why have you turned into this?"

"We're not married yet. You may not end up being my husband at all." I held my cheek, stiffening my neck as I shot back.

Hearing that, Quinn froze for a moment, a flash of panic crossing his heart.

The next second Brooklyn seized the chance to loop her arm through his, saying deliberately, "Oh my, Miss Pratt really knows how to sulkshe'd even say something that petty. You just want Quinn to coax you, don't you? You women and your little schemes."

Understanding flickered in Quinn's eyes. So it was all to make him jealous.

He let out a scornful laugh. "Callie, put away those cheap little tricks of yours. If you learn to behave, I can let you keep your seat as Mrs. Vance."

"But if you don't change your ways and keep making trouble, I can't promise who Mrs. Vance will be."

Having delivered his threat, Quinn left with Brooklyn.

Looking at the wrecked room they'd left behind, a strong wave of nausea rose in me again. A certain possibility came to mind, and I hurried out to buy a pregnancy test.

After fifteen minutes, when I saw the two lines, my whole body went rigid, my mind blank.

Five years together, and I'd always wanted a child with Quinn. Years of careful trying, round after round of IVF, none of it had worked. Now the child I'd waited so long for had finally comejust when I was about to leave Quinn for good.

I don't know how long passed before my boiling heart slowly cooled.

This child couldn't be kept.

A child its own father didn't want would only be unhappy if it were born.

I set the test down on the toilet tank without thinking, turned, and headed for the hospital.

When I saw the exact words on the reportsix weeks pregnantmy whole body went rigid.

I bit my lip and asked the doctor to schedule an abortion.

I had just stepped out of the exam room when I saw Quinn coming toward me, supporting Brooklyn.

He held a report in one hand and carefully steadied Brooklyn with the other.

Brooklyn wore a loose dress, an unhidden smile on her face, her palm resting over her stomach, casual and deliberate all at once.

Quinn lowered his head to ask after her, a rare gentleness in his voice.

"Is anything else bothering you?"

"The doctor said it's just normal symptoms." Brooklyn leaned against his shoulder, pouting sweetly. "Don't be so nervous, the baby's still tiny."

Looking up and seeing me, Brooklyn gave a soft laugh.

"Oh my, Miss Pratt, keeping such close watch on your husband when you're not even married yet? You won't even let him bring a buddy to the hospital?"

She turned and playfully punched Quinn's arm, her voice coy. "Quinn, hurry and take Miss Pratt home. She's chased you all the way to the hospital"

Quinn's face changed. "Callie, you followed us?"

I gripped the report in my hand.

"Is the baby yours?"

He glanced past me at the exam room, nothing in his eyes but irritation.

"Since you've already seen, I won't hide it from you."

"Brooklyn is pregnant now, and she can't be put under any stress. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don't make a scene here and embarrass everyone."

"On your birthday, Brooklyn had just been betrayed by her ex. She was in a bad way, so I had a few drinks with her. We both got drunk, and we ended up sleeping together by accident."

My fingertips went cold all at once.

My birthday.

That day, I had waited for him at the restaurant for six full hours.

At one in the morning, he finally sent me a single message:

Something came up at the company.

Later he brought back a necklace that wasn't even my size, calling it a late birthday gift.

Thinking about it now, it was probably just something Brooklyn hadn't wanted.

Quinn watched the color drain from my face, and his tone softened instead, as if he were coaxing an unreasonable child.

"Callie, it was only a drunken accident. There's no need to act like the sky is falling."

"In our circle, what man doesn't have a few women on the side?"

"Love is love, marriage is marriage. You need to learn to tell them apart."

I stared at him, dazed.

Even now, he still thought I was the one who needed to change.

"So you're planning to let her have this child?"

"The child is innocent."

Quinn said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Brooklyn's health is fragile. The doctors said a pregnancy like this is rare for her. Now that the baby's already here, we can't have her give it up just because you can't accept it."

I almost laughed.

So Brooklyn's baby was the innocent one.

Her health was fragile, so her pregnancy was rare and precious.

How many rounds of treatment I had gone through for a child, how many injections I'd taken, how many times I'd lain on an operating table, he seemed to have forgotten all of it.

Quinn reached out, as if to stroke my hair the way he used to.

I took a step back, turning my head aside to avoid him.

His hand froze in midair, and his face darkened again.

"What are you throwing a fit about now?"

"I already promised you I'd make up the hundredth wedding to you."

"Brooklyn is only having the baby. She won't threaten your position. As long as you're gracious about it and don't drag this in front of my mother, the place as the Vance heir's wife is still yours."

"And when the child is born, it'll be registered under your name."

"You get a Vance heir handed to you for nothing. What more could you want?"

At that, Brooklyn's expression dimmed. She had clawed her way up from the bottom, using the guise of Quinn's best friend to get close to him, and what she wanted was far more than this.

"Quinn, I just remembered, I left one of my medicines in the exam room. Would you go get it back for me?"

Once Quinn was gone, Brooklyn stepped closer, every trace of frailty wiped clean off her face.

"Callie, do you really think you couldn't conceive for five years just because of bad luck?"

My heart clenched hard.

"What do you mean?"

"You tried to get pregnant for five years, went through all those treatments. Every single time, you wore yourself half to death, didn't you?"

The images I had deliberately buried came flooding back before I could brace for them.

The pain of needle after needle driven into my body.

The hope I let flicker to life, so carefully, every time I waited for test results.

And the despair that came after each result, more absolute every time.

It wasn't that I'd never suspected.

After the second failed IVF cycle, the doctor had warned me that my hormone levels were changing abnormally, and asked whether I'd been taking any other medication.

I went home and dug out every pill bottle, ready to bring them to the hospital for testing.

But Quinn took them all away.

He said:

"Those are just fertility vitamins I had someone buy from overseas. There's nothing wrong with them."

"You're under enough pressure already. Stop letting your mind run wild."

After that, every single day, he prepared my pills and warm water with his own hands.

He would watch me swallow them before he left, satisfied.

I once mistook that supervision for care.

I was even moved to pieces because he remembered exactly when I was supposed to take them.

A chill crept slowly up my spine.

I forced myself to stay calm.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

Brooklyn savored the color draining from my face, and finally stopped stringing it out.

"Quinn told me long ago that the Vances' first heir had to be born from me."

"You can be his fiance, you can use the Pratt name to keep up appearances for the Vances, you can even go on dreaming that you're the only woman he's ever loved."

"But you don't have the right to be the first to carry his child."

I stared her down.

"You're lying."

"Whether I'm lying or not, don't you already have the answer in your heart?"

Brooklyn leaned close to my ear and said it word by word:

"All these years, the fertility vitamins he handed you with his own hands weren't vitamins at all."

"They were birth control pills."

My hand dropped to my belly, beyond my control.

Here, inside me, grew the child Quinn had schemed so hard to prevent.

"What exactly went wrong this time, that you actually managed to get pregnant."

Brooklyn watched my movement, the amusement in her eyes slowly curdling into something cold and cruel.

"But it doesn't matter."

Her gaze flicked to the corner of the surgery appointment slip poking out of my bag.

"Looks like you've got some sense after all. You've already decided not to keep it. Callie, since you're going to deal with it, do it cleanly."

"Don't even dream of using this child to steal what belongs to me."

...

Sitting at my mother's bedside, I was still hesitating over how to bring it up.

She took my hand. Her palm was cold, her grip weak.

"This time... did it go smoothly?"

I lowered my head, unable to meet her eyes.

"It went fine."

But she seemed to see straight through me, her fingers brushing gently over the back of my hand.

"Callie, you're not happy."

The smile I'd forced onto my face froze in an instant.

"I am."

"I'm the one who gave birth to you."

Her voice was frail, yet strangely certain.

"How could I not tell whether my own daughter is happy?"

Tears rushed to my eyes.

I turned my head away in a hurry, not wanting her to see.

She didn't press about what had happened at the wedding. She only tightened her hold on my hand.

"I always used to think I had to see you married with my own eyes before I go."

"I thought that as long as someone would marry you, take care of you, I could rest easy."

She paused, catching her breath a few times.

"But if this marriage leaves you drowning in misery, then I'd rather you never marry at all."

"I wanted to see you married. I didn't want to force you to spend your whole life's happiness just to fulfill a wish of mine."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around her.

"Mom... I'm sorry."

"Silly girl, you have nothing to be sorry for."

She stroked my hair softly, comforting me the way she had when I was little.

"You've lived for other people far too long."

"The rest of your life, you should choose the road that truly makes you happy."

I buried myself against her, tears soaking silently into the edge of the blanket.

Her voice grew fainter and fainter:

"From now on, whether I'm still here or not, you have to take good care of yourself."

"Don't ever make yourself suffer for any man."

Walking out of her hospital room, I sent Wayne Rowe a text.

I'm pregnant. Let's call off the wedding. I'm sorry.

The reply came instantly.

Why call it off?

I froze.

His next message came through:

The one I want to marry is you.

Your past, the hurt you've been through, all of it is part of your life.

Three days from now, I'll come for you.

A sting rose at the corners of my eyes. I closed them, and one piece at a time, I tore the miscarriage surgery appointment slip apart.

The one in the wrong was Quinn. The child was innocent.

He was my child, a treasure fate had handed me the moment I decided to leave the wrong man.

Back home, I began clearing everything out of the villa.

Quinn's portraits, Quinn's clothes and shoes, the dishes Quinn had used...

Everything connected to Quinn, I boxed up and threw out.

The villa was in my name. If anyone should be moving out, it was Quinn.

Once I'd finished clearing it, I put the villa on the market.

This place was tainted now. I didn't want it anymore.

Just like Quinn was tainted now, and I didn't want him either.

I'd just started upstairs for a nap.

The bedroom door slammed open, the lock jolted clean off, the panel crashing hard against the wall. Quinn stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, his face twisted with rage.

"Callie, the way you act one thing to my face and another behind my backit makes me sick." His voice dropped to something terrifying. "Brooklyn was kidnapped, she nearly lost the baby. How can you be this vicious?"

"What? I didn't"

"Apologize to Brooklyn."

"It wasn't me"

"If not you, then who?" His eyes were vicious. "The moment you found out Brooklyn was pregnant, she gets kidnapped and nearly miscarries. Who else could it be? What did you say to her at the hospital? Did you send those kidnappers?"

"I didn't kidnap her!" Ignoring the pain, I struggled to sit up. "Five years together, and this is who you think I am? She's the one who's been lying to you."

"I don't care about any of that." He rose to his feet. "You raised your hand against a pregnant woman. You almost killed her baby."

"Let go of me!" One hand shielding my belly, the pain wrung tears from my eyes. "She's been lying the whole time, Quinn. She's deceived you from the very start"

"Apologize."

"No." The word came out flat and final.

His face darkened. "No?"

"I will not apologize for something I didn't do."

He stared at me for a long moment, then a cold, cruel smile spread across his face. It chilled me to the bone.

"Fine."

After Quinn left, I dragged myself upright, moving slowly. I had just finished cleaning the scratches he'd clawed into my skin when the phone rang.

My thumb was already on decline when I caught the label: Attending Physician.

My mother's doctor didn't call me unless something was wrong.

I answered. The doctor's voice came through, taut with panic. "Callie, your husband just came by with some woman, and the moment they arrived, your mother relapsed. We're doing everything we can right now, but her chances of pulling through aren't good. You need to prepare yourself"

My mind went blank. My ears rang. I couldn't take in a word he was saying.

In that instant, I had only one thought. Get to the hospital.

I scrambled out the door and hailed a cab. In the backseat, I sent Wayne a text.

By the time I reached the hospital, I saw Brooklyn standing right outside the operating room.

I flew at her, grabbing a fistful of her hair. "Why did you hurt my mother? Why?!"

"Whatever you're scheming, come at me! Why go after my mom?!"

I was falling apart. I wanted to strangle her with my bare hands.

The next second, my hand was pried loose and Quinn drove his foot hard into my stomach.

I slammed into the wall, out of my own control, a violent pain tearing through my lower belly. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Brooklyn wept softly. "Miss Pratt, I don't understand why you hate me so much. If you think I stole Quinn from you, then I'll give him back. Just please, don't send people to kill me."

"As if anyone wants"

Before I could finish, Quinn cut in, his voice cold. "Callie, can you stop acting like some lunatic, seeing conspiracies everywhere? How many times do I have to say itBrooklyn is no threat to your position. This was just a lesson. Hurt her again and don't blame me if I really do come for your mother"

Everything blurred. His mouth kept moving, but I could no longer make out the words. A hot wave slid down my thigh. My body felt like it was being torn apart by the pain.

All I could do was repeat, mechanically, "Please, spare my mother. I'm sorry. Save my mother"

When I woke again, it was already noon the next day, sunlight streaming into the room.

I picked up the phone beside me, saw Wayne's message, and let out a breath.

Quinn, seated nearby, snatched the phone from my hand. "You just woke up, stop playing on your phone. Who are you texting?"

He tried the passcode three times, couldn't crack it, and tossed the phone aside.

My passcode had always been the date we started dating. I hadn't gotten around to changing it. So he didn't remember it either.

I turned and saw him beside me, dark circles ringing his eyes. He nudged a bowl of porridge toward me. "The doctor said you should eat something light."

I glanced at the seafood porridge, said nothing, and didn't touch it.

Quinn frowned, impatient. "Why aren't you eating? Still sulking? Losing the baby was my fault, but you hurt Brooklyn first."

My voice came out hoarse. "I'm allergic to shellfish."

Quinn froze, then reached over and shoved the seafood porridge into the trash.

Half grumbling, half embarrassed, he said, "You could've mentioned the allergy sooner. What a hassle. Wait here, I'll go buy you another bowl. You can't get better if you don't eat. In a couple of days we're redoing the wedding for the hundredth time. I promise this time"

Before he could finish, Brooklyn's personal ringtone went off. He answered, and a minute later he hung up, looking at me with a complicated expression.

"Go take care of it. Don't worry about me."

I only wanted him gone, so I could climb out of this pit.

His gaze softened. "Good, you finally get it. Keep being this obedient and sweet, and I'll throw you an even grander wedding."

"No need. I'm going to marry someone"

Before I could finish, he was already gone from the doorway.

I checked myself out and went back to the villa for my documents.

The plain-band ring from our first anniversary, along with the token of the Vance betrothal, I left them both on the table.

Before I left, I turned for one last look at the villa. It held more than five years of beautiful memories.

A pity that, in the end, it was only a dream.

I pulled my eyes away and turned to go.

Just as I reached the door, a Bugatti pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down, and a handsome face appeared, one I felt I'd seen somewhere before.

"Fiance, I've come to take you home."

Right then a message from Quinn came through. "Something urgent came up, I won't be back tonight. The custom wedding gown I designed myself will arrive first thing tomorrow morning. I promise you a perfect, magnificent wedding this time."

"Brooklyn knew you were in low spirits, so she's driving over to take you out and clear your head. Get along with her."

I didn't reply. I just blocked his number.

Then I got in the car and left.