Chapter 1

The night before our wedding, my fiancée Clara Monroe rented a luxury yacht to stargaze, and paparazzi splashed the photos all over the trending headlines.

In the picture, she and another man wore matching couple rings, their fingers tightly intertwined.

Late that night, her untouchable first love posted on social media:

“True favoritism means giving you whatever you want on a silver platter.”

Attached was a photo of a commercial business deed―one of the grand engagement gifts I had presented to Clara.

I calmly tapped “like” and commented below: “Why don’t the two of you just take our place at tomorrow’s wedding?”

1.

Two hours later, Clara called my phone.

“Stop stalking the people around me. Everyone is calling you a creep.”

“Why aren’t you asleep yet? Don’t show up at our wedding tomorrow with dark circles under your eyes.”

Before I could even speak, Derek Scott’s weak voice drifted from her end of the line: “Clara, I need a fresh pair of boxers.”

Five years of devoted love could never compete with the man who fell from the sky.

I sat in the living room, waiting for Clara through the entire night.

It was not until dawn the next morning that she finally returned, looking exhausted while humming a soft tune.

Evidently, she had a wonderful time last night.

In all our years together, I had never heard her sing in front of me.

I stared at her with a stone-cold expression.

Before I could utter a word, Clara flopped down onto the sofa and barked at me, “Lucas, what is wrong with you? Where are my loungewear and robe?”

“Bring them over right now. I need to rest, I’m so exhausted!”

Hearing her usual commanding tone, I felt an urge to sneer, yet I lacked even the energy to lift the corners of my mouth.

Clara was a germaphobe who insisted on changing into clean loungewear the moment she stepped inside the house.

She demanded the exact same from me, even going so far as forbidding me from using the master bathroom.

Seeing me motionless, she kicked my shin in irritation and snapped, “Lucas, are you deaf?! Go get them now!”

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancée spent a passionate night with her past flame and handed over the company I gifted her to him.

She returned home without a single word of explanation, still expecting me to wait on her hand and foot.

Did she truly believe I had no temper at all?

Although the man in the photo only showed his back, I recognized him instantly by the familiar scar on his wrist.

That was Derek Scott, Clara’s untouchable first love.

Derek had once pulled Clara from a fiery car wreck, and that scar was the permanent reminder of that day.

Clara had pursued Derek for three long years to no avail, ultimately watching him move abroad to marry a wealthy woman.

Only after her heart was shattered into pieces did I get a chance to enter her life.

Before meeting her, I scoffed at the concept of love at first sight.

Yet when that girl in the white dress crashed into my arms, my heart skipped a beat.

If you love someone, you pursue them.

I spent two full years courting Clara, playing the devoted fool and giving her everything I had.

The day she agreed to be my girlfriend, I thought my sincerity had finally moved her.

Now I realized I was nothing more than a clown in her circus.

Even though Derek was divorced, a single call from him was all it took for Clara to drop everything and run straight to his side.

During our three years together, she asked to manage my family business, and I gladly stepped back into the shadows.

She loved my cooking, so I prepared meals for her whenever I had free time.

She loved manicures and luxury spa treatments, so I invested in three boutique salons for her.

My friends often joked that if Clara wanted the moon, I would build a ladder just to pluck it from the sky.

Seeing that I still had not moved, Clara’s face darkened with fury.

“Lucas, are you deliberately wasting my time?” she spat.

“You don’t even have to handle company affairs anymore and live a life of pure leisure. Who gave you the nerve to give me attitude?”

I clutched my throbbing lower abdomen and waved my hand in refusal.

“Get it yourself.”

Clara lost her temper and hurled her designer handbag right into my face.

“I originally planned to reward you on our wedding night, but now you can just keep that sour face and sleep alone tonight!”