Chapter 1

Tags: Betrayal, Cheating Ex, Strong Female Lead, Cutting Losses, Revenge

The night before our wedding, my fiancé, Derek, gave away the house we had prepared for three years—all for his precious first love.

"Chloe, Savannah is having a severe depressive episode. She said she wants to spend the night in our new house."

"Just stay at a hotel tonight. I need to be here for her."

He expected me to throw a fit like I always did, crying and begging him to stay. He had probably already rehearsed the speech to yell at me.

Instead, I just smiled, set my keys gently on the entryway console, and politely closed the door behind me.

Then, I posted on Ins:

"Groom is out. Wedding is still on tomorrow. Who wants to step in?"

Two minutes later, a comment appeared:

"I will."

The moment my keys clicked onto the console table, I heard Derek exhale in relief behind me.

Suddenly, he called out, "Chloe."

I stopped in my tracks without looking back.

"Savannah is in a really fragile state right now. Don’t overthink it. It’s just for one night."

"Okay," I replied, turning the doorknob.

There was a two-second pause before he added, "You always loved hotel stays anyway. Just treat tonight like a little getaway."

I said nothing and pulled the door shut behind me.

I was alone in the elevator.

The mirrored walls reflected my face. My makeup was still completely intact from my bridal trial run that afternoon.

The artist had told me this was the hottest bridal look of the season. She had placed tiny rhinestones at the outer corners of my eyes, telling me they made my eyes sparkle whenever I smiled.

I had smiled back then, and so had she.

Now, looking in the mirror, my lips were set in a flat, cold line.

I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts. Derek’s chat was still pinned to the very top.

Three minutes ago, he had posted a photo on Ins:

It was a picture of the crystal chandelier hanging in our living room.

He and I had brought that chandelier all the way back from our trip to Italy last year. We had agreed it had to hang in our home because, once turned on at night, it looked just like a starry sky.

His caption had only one word: *Safe.*

I knew who that was for. It was for Savannah.

Whenever Savannah had an anxiety attack, she loved looking at shiny things. Derek had mentioned it countless times.

He told me she had been terrified of the dark since childhood, and it only got worse after her parents divorced when she was sixteen. Only light could calm her down.

And so, using that exact excuse, he demanded I give up our new home to her.

He demanded I surrender three years of anticipation.

He demanded I surrender him to her, too...

The elevator chimed at the ground floor, and I walked out.

The doorman in the lobby greeted me, "Leaving so late, Miss Davis?"

I gave him a faint smile. "Yeah. Just running an errand."

"Mr. Vance isn't coming with you?"

"He’s busy."

"Ah, got it," the doorman replied, not pressing further.

I pushed open the glass doors. The night breeze rushed in, fluttering the hem of my dress.

I looked down at the champagne satin gown I was wearing—another piece I had tried on during the fitting.

Derek had been slumped on the couch scrolling through his phone back then, not even glancing up when he muttered a quick, "Looks nice."

Looking back, he probably didn't even know what color I was wearing.

I walked to the curb and hailed a cab.

The driver asked, "Where to?"

I paused for a second. "Anywhere. Just drive for now."

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, said nothing, and stepped on the gas.

The car glided through the midnight streets, streetlights streaking past one by one.

Suddenly, memories flooded back of my freshman year of college, when Derek gave a speech at orientation.

I was sitting in the third row, looking up at him.

Just one look.

That single glance led to three years of dating, three years of waiting, and three years of planning our future together.

We promised each other we’d build our careers first and get married once we were stable.

He went into investment banking, while I left an architecture firm to start my own interior design studio.

Together, we saved for five long years and finally bought that house last year.

Derek told me he trusted my taste completely, so I oversaw every single detail of the renovation myself.

When it was finished, he was amazed.

We made a promise that our wedding night would be our very first night staying in that house.

Yet tonight, Derek and Savannah had moved in ahead of schedule...

I didn’t even have the energy left to imagine what they were doing in there.

Leaning against the headrest, I opened my contacts. My thumb hovered over the screen for two seconds.

No messages. Not a single one.

Over the years, every time Savannah was involved, we fought.

Derek knew I would throw a fit. He knew I’d blow up his phone, crying and demanding to know what I did wrong.

And every single time, it started with his silent treatment and ended with my surrender.

Eventually, tired of my complaints and sad posts on Ins, he simply muted my account.

But tonight was different.

Remembering all those years of backing down, I opened Ins, tapped out a line, and posted it:

"Groom is out. Wedding is still on tomorrow. Who wants to step in?"