Chapter 1
A text popped up on my phone from a charity case I hadn’t heard from in years.
I expected a belated thank-you. Instead, I found myself added to a group chat named Tyler & Chloe’s Wedding Prep.
The chat was blowing up with spam:
“Congrats on the wedding, Tyler!”
“Big boss Tyler is finally tying the knot!”
I was swamped with corporate contracts and didn't feel like engaging. I figured I'd just wire a generous cash gift later to be polite.
Then, people started aggressively tagging me.
“Who is this guy? Why isn’t he copying the congrats chain?”
“Is he blind? Can’t he see we’re hyping up Tyler’s big day?!”
To my surprise, Tyler chimed in himself:
“Stop embarrassing yourself. Inviting you to my wedding was doing you a favor. I’m not the broke nobody I used to be.”
“Tyler’s bride is a major shareholder at Apex Logistics! That’s a top ten global company! Who dares disrespect our boy Tyler?”
The chat was in an uproar. Just as I was about to hit leave group, Tyler dropped an e-invitation.
I stared at the bride’s name and photo, completely frozen.
That was my wife, Chloe. The woman who was supposedly on a spiritual solo retreat in Napa Valley.
I paused for a few seconds, then typed:
“Happy wedding, Tyler. I’ll be sure to bring you an unforgettable gift.”
After sending those words, I stared at my lock screen in silence. It was our wedding photo.
She had the brightest smile on her face. So did I.
My phone buzzed. A SnapChat from Chloe came through.
“Babe, look at this stunning landmark I passed today! Don’t you love this dress on me?”
In the photo, Chloe wore an elaborate, couture designer dress. Very formal. Very grand.
The background looked eerily familiar. I pulled up Tyler’s SnapChat Story. Sure enough, he had posted the exact same location three days ago—a photo of two hands intertwined, captioned: To the rest of our lives together.
A single glance at the ring on the woman's hand was enough. It was a custom Cartier piece I had personally commissioned. A one-of-a-kind design in the entire world.
“Babe, look at the wildflowers I picked on the trail! Cute, right?”
Before I could even formulate a reply, another message chimed in.
Chloe had always been a woman who cherished life, constantly sharing little pieces of her day with me, while somehow remaining fiercely independent in other ways.
My buddies used to tease me, saying they envied how lucky I was to have a wife who was both so clingy and so self-sufficient.
Her hot-and-cold rhythm had me wrapped around her little finger. I treated her like a priceless treasure, terrified that holding her too tightly would break her, yet terrified of letting her slip away.
Watching her cheerfully text me while watching Tyler’s wedding group chat rage on, I wondered for a brief second if it was just an identical twin. How could anyone wear two completely different faces so effortlessly?
And more than that, I couldn't fathom how the broke student I sponsored years ago had gotten his hands on my wife.
The wedding was tomorrow. I checked the venue. An ultra-exclusive luxury vineyard estate outside the city.
I pulled up the black card I had given Chloe. Sure enough, massive, extravagant charges stared right back at me, mocking every ounce of trust I had ever given her.
The next morning, I cleared my entire executive calendar, got in my car, and drove straight to the estate.
The entire ride there, a tiny, foolish piece of me clung to hope. Praying that this was just some massive, absurd misunderstanding.
I parked near the vineyard gates. Through the windshield, I saw the groom surrounded by his entourage. I had never met Tyler in person, but one look told me it was him.
Dressed in a bespoke tuxedo, young, decently handsome.
I killed the engine and took a deep breath, trying to force down the rage boiling in my chest.
The venue was dripping in wealth. Imported flowers, vintage champagne, glittering lights, loud laughter. Everything looked sickeningly perfect. She had really spared no expense.
“Yo, Tyler, when’s that fake-rich sponsor guy getting here?”
“Yeah, man, did he chicken out? He bailed on sponsoring you halfway through high school, claiming you were a delinquent. Bet he just went broke!”
“Now that you’re living large, he’s probably too embarrassed to show his ugly face!”
“He better not show up, or I’ll teach him some manners for you, bro.”
“Why would Tyler even need you? He’s about to become the golden son-in-law of Apex Logistics. He owns this town now!”
The boys laughed loudly, pumping Tyler’s ego until he practically floated, his eyes full of smug condescension.
The second I stepped out of my car, Tyler’s crew locked their eyes on me.
I found it almost laughable. Apex Logistics was nothing more than a mid-tier subsidiary under Vance Global. Its profits were barely a drop in my bucket.
To please my former father-in-law, I had registered the company under his name and gifted Chloe the majority shares.
“Whoa, is that him? Drove up in an old, clunky black sedan. What a joke.”
A groomsman drenched in cologne and cheap swagger looked my car up and down with open disgust.
Tyler let out a scornful scoff. “Don’t be too hard on him, guys. Back then, he cut off my tuition and claimed I was wasting my life, probably because his own bank account dried up.”
“Look at him now, putting on airs in some hundred-thousand-dollar piece of junk. Even my dog would refuse to ride in that.”
I glanced back at my custom-armored, bespoke Rolls-Royce Phantom. Apparently, an eight-hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle wasn't good enough for his mutt.
The gang swaggered over, laughing, and one of them kicked my front bumper.
Tyler scanned me from head to toe. “You don't look that old. Why are you so obsessed with playing the big shot? Let me tell you something, buddy: if you're broke, don't pretend you're a king.”
I let out a cold chuckle. Right then, my phone screen lit up. A new text from Chloe.