Chapter 4

Back at the apartment, Zoey dropped her luggage and immediately started inspecting my wedding prep.

My dress was hanging in the closet—a minimalist white mermaid gown I had picked out myself.

Carter had glanced at it once, dismissed it as too plain, and told me to pick something flashier.

I refused.

I paid for this dress with my own money, scrimping together three months of my measly allowance.

Zoey took the dress out, held it up, and frowned. "The fabric is so cheap. How much did this cost?"

"Two hundred bucks."

"Two hundred?!" Zoey’s voice skyrocketed. "Your fiancé pulls in millions a year and buys you a two-hundred-dollar wedding dress?!"

"I bought it myself."

Furious, Zoey tossed the dress onto the bed. "Chloe, have you lost your mind? You gave him ten years of your life for this?!"

I stayed silent.

In my past life, I felt the sting too, but I kept making excuses for him. I told myself he cared, that he was just swamped with work.

I didn't believe that lie anymore.

He wasn't busy. He just thought I wasn't worthy.

My phone rang. It was Carter.

"There's a networking dinner tonight. You're coming with me."

I paused.

In our previous life, he had never once brought me to a business dinner. Not a single time.

He always claimed I lacked social polish, couldn't hold my liquor, and would only embarrass him.

"What kind of dinner?" I asked.

"A few major suppliers. Just come and introduce yourself."

"Alright."

After hanging up, Zoey leaned in. "He's taking you out to dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Hell must have frozen over," Zoey scoffed. "Watch your back. It sounds like a total ambush."

I changed into a little black dress Zoey had brought in her suitcase.

She insisted the cut suited my frame and brightened my complexion.

Standing before the mirror, I realized the dress looked infinitely better than anything I had ever bought myself.

I wasn't ugly; I had just spent ten years neglecting myself.

Carter had never pointed that out. He only ever muttered, "You look fine as you are," before running off to see Serena.

Before stepping out, I messaged Julian: [I'm attending a dinner tonight with Carter's key suppliers. Can you look these names up for me?]

Julian: [Send the names.]

I forwarded the restaurant address and the guest list Carter had sent.

When I arrived at the private dining suite, Carter was already seated.

The moment he saw my dress, his eyes flickered with surprise, though he said nothing.

Around the table sat seven or eight middle-aged executives, each accompanied by a glamorous, twenty-something girl.

I took my seat, and Carter poured me a glass of wine. "This is Mr. Walker, and this is Mr. Miller. Say hello."

I lifted my glass with a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, gentlemen."

Mr. Walker looked me up and down, then turned to Carter with a grin. "So this is the bride-to-be? Much prettier than the photos, Carter."

Carter offered a dry chuckle. "She usually doesn't dress like this."

It sounded like a compliment, but the undertone was unmistakable: She usually looks like a mess; she just played dress-up tonight.

I sipped my wine and remained quiet.

Halfway through the dinner, Carter stepped out to use the restroom. Mr. Walker leaned toward me, reeking of expensive scotch. "So, Chloe, how many years have you been with Carter?"

"Ten years."

"Ten years is a long time," Walker sighed. "My wife’s been with me for twenty. Now she stays home with the kids, and I bring my assistants to these dinners."

He gestured subtly toward the young woman draped over his arm.

Nausea twisted in my gut.

Every supplier at this table had brought their mistress. Carter was the only one who brought his fiancée.

In their eyes, bringing me to a gathering like this meant Carter viewed me no differently than those arm candies.

A temporary placeholder.

To this circle of men, Serena was probably already accepted as the future Mrs. Hayes.

If this were my previous life, I would have broken down in tears.

Instead, I casually slid a pocket audio recorder out of my purse and tucked it beneath a throw pillow in the corner of the velvet booth.

I stood up with an easy smile. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm going to powder my nose."

With these sleazy men gathered together, I had no doubt Carter would let his guard down.