After three years in wedding planning, I finally secured the perfect venue for my own upcoming nuptials: The Legacy Ballroom at the Grand Regency. It took months of exhausting negotiation, countless late-night pitch revisions, and draining my entire savings account just to make the non-refundable deposit. My fiancée, Chloe, had even taken a high-stress corporate job across the country just so we could save faster to build our life together. Then came Mr. Vance. He was a difficult client who had rejected five distinct wedding concepts I’d drafted for him. Suddenly, he laid eyes on my personal booking at the Legacy Ballroom and decided it was the only option. "How about you assign the venue booking to me?" he suggested nonchalantly. "I'll pay you five times your deposit amount." He gave me a smarmy smile. "My wife and I decided on a date that fits perfectly. I really want to surprise her." I didn't even have to think about it. I politely declined. The very next day, Mr. Vance showed up outside my apartment building, and he brought his wife. "That planner is utterly unreasonable, baby," Vance grumbled, leaning against his luxury SUV. "You have to put him in his place for me!" The woman watched him dote on him with an indulgent smile. "If it's that important to you, I'll offer him a hundred times the deposit," she said smoothly. "Whatever makes you happy. I’ll handle him." She laughed softly as she stepped forward, looking up at me. Then, her smile instantly vanished. We both froze, staring at each other in total disbelief. This was Chloe. My Chloe. The woman I was supposed to marry, the one who claimed she was working 3,000 miles away because we were broke. ... The panic in Chloe’s eyes lasted only a fraction of a second before she masked it perfectly. Instead of explaining, she shot me a warning look—a silent command to stay quiet. Vance, completely oblivious to the agonizing tension, pulled out a checkbook and tapped it against his palm. "Let's be blunt," Vance said, sliding a pen from his breast pocket. "Write down whatever number you want. I want the Legacy Ballroom." He slipped his arm around Chloe’s waist. "My wife is picking up the tab." I looked up, desperately searching Chloe’s eyes for a hint of guilt, remissness, anything. There was nothing. Just cold calculation. To get this booking, I had camped out outside the reservation office for three days in freezing rain. My face had actually developed mild frostbite. By some miracle, another couple had canceled, and I had grabbed the slot. I had been so ecstatic I couldn’t sleep. I spent the entire night on a video call with Chloe, dreaming together about our future wedding. Looking at her now, it was obvious she had never even opened the wedding planning shared document I sent her. She didn't realize I chose the Legacy Ballroom because that was where we had our very first date five years ago. I didn't take the checkbook. Chloe broke the silence, her voice devoid of emotion, framing her words with terrifying significance. "Are you in a rush to get married?" I didn't know who was asking that question. Chloe Vance, the wealthy wife? Or Chloe, my fiancée? But she, of all people, should know the answer. My family had been pressuring me to get married for five years. Every single time, I had offered a strained smile and told them, "There's no rush. We'll get married when we save enough money." But the anxiety kept me awake at night. I hid my desperation from her because I didn't want to add stress to her high-powered job. And now... I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Actually, there's no rush at all." Chloe’s expression flickered, becoming complicated. Vance, however, beamed and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Good," Vance said, scrawling a number on the check that I had never imagined seeing on a single piece of paper: One Million Dollars. "Take it," he said, ripping the check out and shoving it toward me. "Don't worry about it. I spend more than this on a business dinner." "My wife and I spent millions on our reception, but after seeing the venue options, we decided the Legacy Ballroom is the only place suitable for us." Vance looked me up and down, a sneer forming. "Listen, buddy, if you don't have the cash, don't pretend you do. Find a nice little diner for your wedding. That seems more your speed." I was wearing a suit jacket from three years ago. It clashed violently with the luxury designer brands covering both of them. But Chloe had given me this jacket. It was the only "expensive" birthday gift she had ever bought me. Chloe lightly pulled Vance's arm, and he snapped out of his arrogance. "Right. I’m pretty direct, don't take it personally." "Here," he said, handing me a heavy, gold-embossed business card. "This is my wife’s card. We still need to discuss the details for the bride’s gown revisions." The card read: [CEO, Sterling Group: Chloe Vance.] The Chloe I knew would wear the same T-shirt until it faded to white and cut her own hair to save twenty bucks. I realized now that every time I excitedly showed her the hundred-dollar gift cards clients gave me as bonuses, she must have been secretly laughing at me. I watched them walk away, their bodies close, their intimacy natural. I closed my eyes. Five years of long-distance. working night and day, sacrificing everything to save money... only to find out I was planning her wedding to someone else. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. A message from Chloe: [Meet my assistant at the villa later. We need to talk.] The bitter resentment bottled in my chest exploded. I started typing furiously, sending message after message. [Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you ever tell me you were married?] [What am I to you?] But my messages vanished into a void. They remained "Delivered," but never "Read." Chloe's assistant ushered me into a luxury sedan, driving us to a remote, gated community on the outskirts of the city. "This is a property the Sterling family owns, Mr. Vance doesn't know about it," the assistant said coldly. "Wait for Ms. Sterling here." Sterling. Her maiden name. The servants surrounding the estate shot me looks of open amusement and disdain. As if the word "Mistress" was tattooed across my forehead. Except, I was a man. I walked into the massive villa, feeling utterly lost. Everything here was alien. Chloe had told me she lived in a small, rented apartment. In reality, just one of her spare properties was a palace. Meanwhile, I had spent five years living in a leaky, drafty basement apartment just to save an extra $300 a month on rent for our future. Seeing Chloe Sterling’s marriage certificate to Mr. Vance displayed prominently on the nightstand crushed my final defensive line. The date they signed the license... was the day my father passed away. I had called her that day, helpless and broken, needing her support. She had told me, "Work is insane, I can't leave right now." That lie had stripped away my last source of strength. In reality, that day was her joyous wedding day. Chloe pushed the door open, linking her arm through mine just as she always used to. "Ethan, he's my childhood friend. It was an arranged marriage. I had no choice." "I know you’re understanding. Can you forgive me?" I couldn't take it anymore. I violently pushed her away, my eyes burning with rage and betrayal. "Then what was our five years together? What am I to you?" "I'm a bitch," Chloe answered instantly, her voice decisive. "That's why I want to make it up to you. You can live here. Vance never comes here, as long as you keep a low profile." I looked around the room, staring at everything that didn't belong to me, and laughed. I had waited for her faithfully for five years. And the only position she had for me in her life now was "Side Piece." Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the door. "Sir..." Vance stood in the doorway, his face twisted in utter shock. He marched forward and, before I could react, planted a brutal punch squarely on my jaw. "I knew that perfume on her smelled familiar!" he roared. "I didn't expect it to be the Side Piece trying to screw my wife!" Chloe panicked, stepping in front of me to shield me. "Let me explain..." Vance pushed her aside with brute force. He grabbed the collar of my jacket and started violently dragging me toward the hallway. "Get out! Get the hell out!" I struggled desperately, but my foot slipped on the polished marble floor. I tumbled headfirst down the massive spiral staircase. My blood-curdling screams echoed through the entire villa. As Chloe scrambled to run down the stairs after me, Vance suddenly clutched his head in apparent agony. "Chloe, my head... it hurts..." With just that one sentence, Chloe completely forgot about me. She linked her arm through Vance's to support him and stepped directly over my broken body. I felt like every bone in my body was shattered. I lay in a pool of my own blood, consumed by utter despair. No matter how hard I yelled, how loud I screamed her name, Chloe never looked back. Not once. I begged the servants for help, but they twisted their heads away in disgust, muttering words like "homewrecker" and "Side Piece." The fantasy I had cherished for five long years collapsed completely in that moment. My mouth was covered in blood. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to crawl up. I dialed a dusty, forgotten international number. "You said you’d always have a position for me. Does that still stand?" The second I hung up the phone, I received a notification from the hospital. Chapter 2 When I rushed to the hospital, my mother was lying in the intensive care unit, breathing her last breaths. "Ethan Miller, why would you become a homewrecker...?" I was paralyzed with shock. "Mom, listen to me..." But before I could even start to explain, my mother turned her head away in absolute disappointment, refusing to listen to another word. As she was wheeled into the operating room for emergency surgery, I finally realized what was happening. Her phone was in the basket of her belongings, publicly broadcasting a news alert. Vance had posted their marriage certificate online, publicly accusing me of being the Side Piece who destroyed his family. Countless hateful terms like "trash man" and "homewrecker" flashed across the screen. The violent rage and heartbreak overwhelmed my system, and I collapsed into a sea of pain. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed myself. Chloe was sitting by my bedside. She had massive dark circles under her eyes, looking utterly exhausted. But her eyes held no sympathy. They held threats. "Post an apology to Vance on social media." "Vance said that if you’re willing to swallow your pride, he’ll turn a blind eye to us in the future." I froze. Every drop of blood in my body felt like it was flowing backward. She had deceived me for five years, and now I was the one who had to take the responsibility for her mess? Tears exploded from my eyes. Rage ground out three words from between my gritted teeth: "In your dreams!" Before the words even finished leaving my lips, she silently pulled out a thick stack of my mother's medical bills from over the years. "You've probably figured it out by now. I'm the one who has been paying for your mother's treatments all this time." "If you don't agree, I can always choose to stop paying." I looked up at her, utterly broken. Once, Chloe Sterling had sworn to me that no matter how hard life got, as long as she was around, I would never have to worry about money. She said she would do everything in her power to give me the best life possible. But that was before. Staring at the mountain of bills on the nightstand, I gave a numb nod. The moment I posted the statement online, a tidal wave of abuse flooded my phone. I didn't dare open the notifications. I didn't dare leave my apartment. People actually mailed razor blades and dead rats to my address. Until my wedding planning business app started blasting an emergency alert. When I rushed to the shop, a bucket of red paint hit me squarely in the face. "You shameless bitch! A Side Piece is all you’ll ever be!" "Mr. Vance had a severe depression episode and almost overdosed on sleeping pills because of you!" "You used your wedding planning job to seduce another woman's wife!" In the blink of an eye, the business I had dedicated my life to building was completely annihilated. "Stop! Stop it!" Just as the crowd was about to get even more violent, Vance appeared. His hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot. "You knew our wedding was coming up, and you deliberately threw my custom tux into the sewer." "You can punish me, but you can't punish my wedding..." As he spoke, he carelessly rolled up his sleeve to reveal a few fresh, self-inflicted scars on his forearm. Under the crowd's pitying gaze, he turned to Chloe to demand justice. "Chloe, if you want to protect him, then we should just cancel the wedding. I'll give him my spot." My heart clenched, and I waited for her answer. At the very least, I was her boyfriend of five years who had stuck with her through thick and thin. I was the lover she had promised the rest of her life to. But the next second, Chloe Sterling turned a terrifyingly dark gaze toward me: "So your apology was just a lie, and you were still retaliating against him behind my back!" "Since you refuse to listen, I guess I have no choice but to punish you." A horrific feeling of dread flooded my chest. Before I could react, three massive bodyguards slammed me into the ground. I felt a violent, blinding pain as they brutally snapped my fingers back. The last image of her gentle smile that I held in my mind shattered along with my bones. My guttural screams did nothing to evoke a single ounce of sympathy from her. "You’re a monster! A monster!" The bodyguards stopped their assault, only for Chloe to turn around and order: "Snap three of his fingers every single day. Do not let him leave this shop until he sincerely begs for forgiveness." Vance smiled triumphantly as he followed her out. Right before leaving, he turned back to shoot me a look full of gloating and pure hatred. Chloe Sterling locked me inside my ruined shop. Every single day, I lived in agonizing dread, waiting for the torture to begin again. Until finally, all my fingers were broken and twisted, and both my legs had been brutally snapped. They tossed me aside like a rag doll, covered in blood and scars. I don't know when Vance walked in. He stood over me, sneering down at my pathetic state. "How does it feel to be the Side Piece? Do you finally accept that Chloe loves me?" My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand sewing needles. It was exactly because Chloe loved him that she was willing to make me take the fall for being a "homewrecker" just to save him from crying. Even though I had faced reality, my heart still cracked open in sharp, exquisite pain. He mocked: "Do you honestly think that if Chloe removes your vas deferens, I'll allow you to survive?" I whipped my head up, my expression filled with confusion. Vance’s eyes danced with immense satisfaction. He let out a condescending, arrogant laugh. "Oh, you didn't know? While you were unconscious, Chloe Sterling had your vas deferens surgically removed." "You’re never going to be a father, you worthless piece of trash." The man got more and more energized as he spoke, unable to hide his gloating triumph. "The Sterling family will only have one heir." "Because Chloe Sterling said you were just a toy she used to satisfy her sexual urges. Why on earth would you be worthy of having her children?" My mind went completely blank. I couldn't process the words. The truth was a thousand times more brutal than anything I had imagined. Every beautiful memory of her love for me that I cherished instantly became ugly, twisted, and grotesque. Next, the man slapped a piece of paper directly onto my face: "Ethan Miller, look! You actually shocked your mother to death!" Catastrophic tinnitus exploded in my ears. Choked-off sobs began to leak from the corners of my mouth. My eyes burned with blood-red rage. I violently spat in his face. "Karma will come for you!" The man ground his teeth in fury. "You honestly think you still have a chance? I will never let that happen." With that, a sickening, pungent scent of natural gas filled the room. By the time I realized the danger and tried to escape, Vance had already slipped out of the room and locked the heavy door from the outside. I clawed at the door until my fingernails ripped off, leaving ten horrifying streaks of blood on the wood. The next second, with a deafening BOOM, a violent tidal wave of intense heat engulfed me. My vision slowly began to blur. I felt like I was seeing that gentle memory of me wearing a suit, dropping to one knee to propose to Chloe Sterling. But that wedding... would never, ever happen. By the time Chloe Sterling received the call from the emergency responders and rushed to the scene, the horrific image before her eyes caused her to freeze in absolute terror...
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