I've always been a petty man. In my world, if you throw mud at me, I don't just throw it back-I burn your entire house down with you inside it. When I was ten, our neighbor Mrs. Henderson accused me of stealing a package from her doorstep. I didn't do it, but she told the whole street I was a thief. That night, I snuck into her backyard and blasted death metal through her garden speakers at three in the morning. She never said a bad word about me again. After I started my career, a colleague whispered that I only got promoted because I was sleeping with the female lead. At the annual gala, I played the hidden camera footage of him and that same boss moaning in the supply closet on a 50-foot loop. After that, people learned to keep my name out of their mouths. They called me crazy. Unhinged. A psycho. I didn't give a damn. Then my family found me a fianc閑. Charlotte Ashford. Old money. Manhattan elite. The night before our wedding, she threw a pre-wedding party at some overpriced rooftop bar in Tribeca. I showed up because my father insisted. "The Ashfords are critical business partners, Vincent. Play nice." Play nice. Right. I was nursing a whiskey when her "best friend" Ethan Lawrence-some trust fund brat who'd been orbiting Charlotte since prep school-decided to run his mouth. He leaned against Charlotte's shoulder, smirking at me like we were sharing some inside joke. "Vincent, I heard your dad married into money. A real boy-toy situation, you know? And word is you're just like him-living off women. Got dumped by some rich cougar before you latched onto our Charlie, right?" Charlotte's friends erupted into laughter. Champagne glasses clinked. Eyes gleamed with malicious amusement, waiting to see if I'd crumble. I set down my glass. Picked up the empty bottle next to it. Then I smashed it against the edge of the bar. The sound cut through the music like a gunshot. Glass shards scattered across the marble floor. I pressed the jagged edge against Ethan's cheek, close enough that he went pale. "Charlotte," I said, not breaking eye contact with him. "You've got so many friends here. You won't miss this one, right?" ...... Charlotte's face went ice-cold. She slapped my hand away hard enough that the bottle neck clattered to the floor. "Vincent, what the hell is wrong with you?" "It was a joke! Ethan was joking. Are you seriously this fragile?" Her friends piled on immediately. "Vincent, Charlotte's doing you a favor by marrying you. Your family legacy would be nothing without the Ashfords. You should be grateful, not throwing tantrums." "Ethan's known Charlie since they were kids. They're like family. You threatening him? That's insane." "You should learn how to tolerate your future wife-and her friends, Vincent. " I laughed. Genuinely laughed. I bent down, picked up a shard of glass, and twirled it between my fingers. "Here's the thing," I said, my voice calm. "I've never had a sense of humor. Never learned to take a joke. So when people joke about me, I take them as the joke." I locked eyes with Ethan, whose face had gone from smug to terrified. "For example, if someone says my father's a gold digger, I'd be justified in assuming theirs was too. That they're just a bastard child from an affair, swept under the rug to avoid scandal. Isn't that right , Ethan?" Ethan's body went rigid. Tears welled in his eyes instantly. Charlotte grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. "Vincent, you apologize to Ethan. Right now." "Where do you get off saying something like that? Ethan's father died saving my dad in a construction accident. My family took him in out of gratitude!" "Say one more word, and I'll throw you out of here myself." Ethan cowered behind her, playing the victim perfectly. "Charlie, don't be mad at Vincent. Maybe I said the wrong thing... I'm sorry, Vincent. I shouldn't have joked like that." Her friends immediately turned on me. "Ethan apologized. What more do you want, Vincent? Besides, Ethan's not wrong-we've all seen you getting out of different women's cars. Who knows what you were doing in there?" "You're marrying Charlotte tomorrow. Maybe tone down the psycho act? If you can't handle some friendly banter, maybe don't show up." I was genuinely amused by these idiots. Before I came tonight, my father had given me his usual lecture: "The Ashfords are crucial partners, Vincent. This alliance benefits both families." I tried to follow his advice, but honestly, they don't treat me like a partner. This is truly regrettable,for them. I learned early on that backing down only makes you a target. The only way to survive is to be crazier, meaner, and more vicious than anyone else. If someone bites you, you don't just bite back. You shatter their teeth and make them choke on the fragments. I slowly released the glass shard from my palm, letting it fall. "You're right. Getting upset over something so trivial-that's immature of me." Their faces lit up with smug satisfaction. Charlotte's expression softened slightly. She opened her mouth to say something conciliatory. I cut her off. "But if we're talking about playing games..." I smiled. "I'm the best there is." "You want to play? Let's play. Come on. Let's continue."
I scanned the crowd of vultures circling for entertainment. Grabbed a glass and started pouring every liquor I could find into it. Whiskey, vodka, tequila, gin, rum-seven or eight different kinds, creating a toxic cocktail that looked like it could strip paint. "Here's the game. Loser drinks this. Then answers one question from the winner-total honesty required." "If you lie or refuse to answer, you drink three more." One of Charlotte's friends sneered. "Games need stakes, Vincent. What are you putting up? Or are you broke as well as boring?" I swirled the toxic mixture, my smile widening. Then I pulled out my black AmEx card and slammed it on the table. "Anyone who gets me to drink, even just one sip, will get my card with unlimited credit." The room went dead silent. Charlotte's face flushed with anger. "Vincent, enough. You think you can humiliate people just because you have money?" I ignored her. Kept my eyes locked on Ethan. "What's wrong? Scared to play? You were so chatty a minute ago." "Ethan. You're up first." Ethan's eyes were glued to that black card like a starving man staring at a steak. He rolled the dice. I didn't even look before I opened the cup. Six sixes. Ethan's face went ghost-white. "Truth or dare," I said. "Did your mother marry your father before or after you were born?" His body started trembling. "I... I choose dare!" I nodded slowly, sliding the toxic cocktail toward him. "Fair enough. Drink this. Then call your dad and tell him, on speaker, that Ethan's father was the real gold digger." Ethan broke instantly. "Charlie! I don't want to! I don't want to play anymore!" Pathetic. Two moves and I'd already peeled back his skin. Charlotte exploded. She shoved me hard. "Vincent, enough! Ethan's young, he doesn't know better. How can you be so cruel?" I actually laughed. Charlotte was too stupid to see manipulation even when it slapped her in the face. "When he was slandering my father and calling me a parasite, you didn't say he was 'young.' Interesting double standard." I stepped closer, voice dropping. "Charlotte, you're protecting him so hard, people might think he's your fianc?instead of me." "Your 'best friend'-is that code for fuck buddy?" Charlotte's hand flew up to slap me. I didn't dodge. Just stared at her. "Go ahead. Hit me." "Let everyone see how the great Charlotte Ashford assaults her fianc?to defend some other man's illegitimate son." "Should I call your father? Let him know tomorrow's wedding is off?" I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over the contact. Charlotte panicked. She grabbed my phone and hurled it to the ground, shattering the screen. "Vincent, you're being unreasonable!" "The wedding's tomorrow. Go home and think about what you did. Don't embarrass yourself-and me-at the ceremony." She wrapped a protective arm around the still-whimpering Ethan and marched out. Her friends followed, throwing sneers and insults my way. I stood there, surrounded by broken glass and spilled liquor, and smiled. Perfect. Tomorrow, we'd see who the real joke was.
I got home and immediately grabbed my burner phone. Dialed a number I'd kept for emergencies. "I need everything on Ethan Lawrence. And I mean everything. His father's death, his mother's history, the Ashford connection-all of it." "The dirtier, the better." The voice on the other end chuckled. "Mr. Sterling, it's your wedding eve. You sure you want to go nuclear?" "Less talking. Have it in my email by morning." I hung up and stared at my reflection in the window. Charlotte. Ethan. You think this is over? You threw mud at me. Now I'm going to make you eat it-mixed with broken glass and blood. The next day was the so-called "wedding of the century." Sterling and Ashford families united. Manhattan's elite packed into the Plaza ballroom. My father cornered me in the groom's suite. "Vincent, keep your temper in check today. This is your wedding." "If you don't want Charlotte, fine. You can live separately after. She'll have the Sterling name, Just a nominal Mrs.Sterling.but you'll have the real power. That's what matters." I gave him a tight smile. Said nothing. My temper wasn't something I could turn on and off. It was a wildfire, and once lit, it consumed everything. As I stepped into the ballroom, my phone buzzed. It was a number I didn't recognize I answered, and immediately, I knew something was wrong. And then I realized-maybe this is a good opportunity. Without hesitation, I synced my phone to the ballroom's wireless speakers. Every guest in the room went silent as Ethan's voice flooded the space. "Charlie... this is all my fault. If I hadn't been so upset because you're getting married tomorrow, we wouldn't have... God, we shouldn't have slept together." "You're getting married today. I gave you my virginity. What if Vincent finds out? What if he makes a scene?" Charlotte's voice came through, soft and reassuring. "This isn't your fault, Ethan. Vincent pushed you. It just... happened. We got carried away." "If there's a baby, I'll keep it. I'll raise it. Don't worry. I'll take care of you." I walked calmly to the stage, picked up the microphone. "Sorry to interrupt, everyone." "Looks like my bride has some unfinished business with her best friend." Charlotte's parents looked like they'd been struck by lightning. Her father roared toward the back rooms. "Charlotte! Get out here right now!" She emerged seconds later, still in her wedding gown, face pale with shock. When she realized what had happened, her eyes found mine across the room. Pure, venomous hatred. But with hundreds of witnesses staring at her, she had no choice. Her father slapped her. Hard. "Apologize to Vincent. Now. Or you're no daughter of mine." Charlotte's voice was barely a whisper, choked with rage. "I'm sorry, Vincent. Ethan and I... it was a mistake. I swear I'll never see him again." She glared at me with such intensity I could feel it burning. I gave her my most charming smile. This alliance was dead anyway. I wasn't marrying damaged goods. I opened my mouth to officially end this charade- When my phone buzzed. A photo. My mother. Bound with rope. Dangling from the edge of a rooftop. Every drop of blood drained from my face.
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