He Chose Her Rival, So She Married a Billionaire

Up in our mountains, we have a custom. The man a girl chooses to wear the silver comb she carved with her own hands is the man she's pledged her whole life to.

I had carved that silver comb over ninety-nine days, until my eyes burned red, and when I offered it to Louis Carpenter, he turned his head and let it pass.

The comb hit the gray flagstone and snapped at the top in an instant.

He turned away instead, letting the college girl from the Capital City slide a cheap wooden comb into his hair.