Chapter 3

"Chloe, what is the meaning of this?" Ethan snapped, his face turning red.

"Are you treating me like a beggar?"

I calmly walked up to the stage and took the microphone from his hand.

"Ethan, didn't you want to settle the accounts?"

"That $2.50 is my share for the condom last night."

"As for the rest..."

I swept my gaze over the whispering crowd, my voice echoing clearly through the speakers.

"I drank those lattes, yes. But the designer sneakers I bought you cost two thousand dollars."

"You were the one who booked the hotels, but the gaming gear and top-ups I bought you cost at least five thousand."

"And the custom-tailored suit you are wearing right now? I paid eighty-eight hundred dollars for it."

"What’s wrong, Ethan? Is your Excel broken? Does it only calculate what you spend, but conveniently glides over what I spend?"

Ethan gasped, momentarily speechless.

But quickly, his embarrassment turned into pure rage. He yelled:

"Those were gifts! You gave them to me voluntarily! You can’t ask for gifts back!"

"But the money I spent was on things *you* consumed! It’s entirely different!"

"Besides, you only bought me those things to suck up to me because you wanted to marry into my family!"

"Now you want to use them to write off your debt? No way!"

The double standards were truly spectacular.

I sneered.

"Marry into your family?"

"With that cramped, run-down studio apartment of yours in the sketchy part of town?"

"Or with your pathetic brain that makes you beg for $2.50 in public?"

I hit him right where it hurt.

Ethan’s biggest insecurity was his family background, and his biggest pride was his self-proclaimed identity as a "finance elite."

"Chloe Miller! Don't you dare push your luck!"

"Let me tell you, a materialistic woman like you will never find anyone else if you leave me!"

"You're already twenty-six! In a couple of years, you’ll be expired goods!"

"I’m doing charity work by marrying you!"

"Transfer the twenty-three grand right now, get down on your knees, and beg my mother for forgiveness. Then I might overlook this."

"Otherwise—"

Before he could finish his sentence, I threw my glass of champagne right into his face.

Ethan stared at me as if I were a lunatic.

"Chloe! Did you just throw a drink at me?!"

"You deserved it."

"Ethan, let me make this official."

"The wedding is off."

"Take your mother, take your Excel spreadsheet, and get the hell out of my sight."

I turned to my parents.

"Mom, Dad, let's go. This party is over."

My dad, who had been holding back his temper the entire time, finally lost it and flipped the main table.

Ethan’s mother, who had been smugly watching the drama, immediately threw herself onto the floor, screaming and crying.

"Assault! They are attacking us!"

"They are abusing a poor widow and her son!"

"Fine, the wedding is off! But you must pay us for emotional damages! Pay us!"

The ballroom erupted into chaos.

Ethan wiped the champagne from his face, pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture of me.

"Fine, Chloe. You think you're tough."

"Just wait. I will make you crawl back and beg for my forgiveness."

"When that time comes, the prenup will be even harsher, and your parents will have to apologize to me on their knees!"

I didn't even give him a second glance as I walked out of the venue.