Chapter 1FIVE YEARS of pinching pennies for our wedding, Carter VANISHED.
I went crying to my bestie.
Maren smirked. "Know your role, side chick."
I blinked. "What?"
"He's getting married today. Of course busy."
Then—two marriage licenses in my face.
The groom? My "broke" fiancé.
The bride? Delilah Sterling. Billionaire heiress.
Her dress—THIRTY MILLION.
"Girl, EVERYONE knew Carter's loaded."
"Playing broke? Just to screw with you."
"Delilah paid me 50K to be her bridesmaid. Gotta run."
Just then, my phone buzzed.
Carter.
[Babe, working late again.]
[Hang in there. Once we save up, I'm marrying you. PROMISE.]
No tears. No screaming. I just pulled out his location.
My boyfriend's getting married?
I'm crashing it. With a gift he'll NEVER forget.
...
I pushed open the wedding hall doors.
Every guest turned.
The music stopped dead.
Carter Ashford—in his designer suit—froze mid-ring-slide.
His smile cracked.
"Isla... what are you doing here?"
Dead silence.
He stumbled toward me, reaching for my hand.
"Isla, let me explain. I did this so you wouldn't get hurt—"
I yanked my hand back, eyes burning.
"Was lying to me FUN for you?"
Delilah stood at the altar in a custom gown. The one from that luxury magazine.
Thirty million dollars.
Our "wedding fund"? Ten grand. Carter said it'd take three years to save.
He had the money.
He just never planned to marry me.
Someone broke the silence.
"If you knew the truth, you should've stayed quiet."
"Coming here to ruin his wedding? You're embarrassing everyone."
It was Finn—Carter's best friend.
The guy who stood up for me when I got harassed.
Who called me "sis" to my face.
"It's my brother's big day. Do me all a favor—don't make a scene."
That was Sloane. Carter's sister.
The doctor who treated my stress-induced stomach pain. Who always made me soup.
I looked around.
Maren. Finn. Sloane. My own relatives. Our mutual friends.
They all knew.
They all watched me fall into the trap.
Guests started whispering.
Carter dragged me aside, face tight.
"Just go home. I'll explain later. Don't make this harder for everyone."
My eyes were red. My lips shaking.
Delilah swept over, lifting her dress.
"This is MY wedding. With MY husband."
"Uninvited guests need to leave."
I didn't move.
Carter shoved me toward the door.
"Isla, I promise I'll marry you someday. Just not now."
"I'm not abandoning you. Be good."
I laughed bitterly.
My hand drifted to my slightly swollen belly.
The surprise I was going to tell him.
Now just a joke.
The ballroom doors shut behind me.
I remembered Eleanor—Carter's grandma.
Before she died, she kept trying to set me up with someone.
I'd laugh it off—thought she was just confused.
"I have Carter. That's enough."
Now I get it.
She was trying to save me.
Tears streaming, I pulled out my phone and text back that old proposal text I buried.
Carter Ashford, what made you think I'd never leave?
Chapter 2
I stumbled back to our tiny studio apartment.
Throw everything of Carter's into the trash.
In the locked drawer, there was a metal tin.
Label on top: "Wedding Fund for Isla."
I opened it and pulled out the crumpled bills at the bottom.
Right before my dad died, he shoved his life savings into Carter's hand.
"Take care of my girl. Don't let her suffer."
Carter had held that money, turned his head away, and couldn't meet my dad's eyes.
I thought he was too moved to speak.
Turns out he was trying not to laugh.
I pressed the money to my chest. Blocked Carter on everything.
Opened Maren's Instagram.
The wedding looked even bigger than I thought.
"Our princess finally married her prince! Best friends forever!"
My bestie and that homewrecker—arm in arm—throwing up peace signs.
In the video, Carter handed out three million in cash gifts.
Donated an entire elementary school in Delilah's name.
Back when we lived in this dump, I worked every side hustle I could find.
Last year, I finally saved twenty thousand.
Then Carter "crashed a client's Rolls-Royce."
I got on my knees and begged for three hours.
The owner agreed to settle for five hundred thousand.
I took out loans and worked myself to the bone.
Spent two years paying it off.
Now I'm thinking—that car was probably his all along.
Late that night, I heard the door open.
Carter silently picked up the stuff I'd thrown and wrapped his arms around me from behind.
"Isla, why'd you block me?"
"You really gonna give up on us?"
I shoved him off, eyes burning.
"Drop the act. I'm done playing along!"
He blinked, and a flicker of impatience crossed his face.
"Isla."
"Delilah and I—it's a business arrangement."
"That's how I secure our future. How I give YOU stability."
"Why can't you see I'm doing this for you?"
I laughed—hollow, bitter—and stumbled back.
He played me like a fool, and he called that love.
I slapped him.
Hard.
"How pathetic do you think I am? How desperate to get married that I'm worth all this effort to lie to?"
Carter didn't flinch. Just tilted his head and kept his cool.
"I didn't want you to feel insecure about my background."
"And Delilah was already pregnant. I had to protect them."
"I couldn't risk you going after her."
I froze.
"Pregnant?"
"Yeah. He's three now."
My hand drifted to my stomach again, feeling the tiny life inside.
Five years of hoping. Joy after finding out I was pregnant.
All of it—a joke.
I pulled off the cheap ring on my finger and shoved it into his hand.
Took a deep breath.
"I'm not anyone's mistress, ever."
"Carter. We're done."
Chapter 3
Carter froze.
Then his hands clamped down on my shoulders. Eyes wild.
"Break up? What about the five years we had?"
"You think you'll do better without me? Don't be stupid!"
He paused, thinking.
"I'll talk to Delilah. Get her to accept you."
"I'll set you up in a nice place—visit all the time."
"What am I to you?"
I was shaking. Shoved him toward the door.
"Don't ever come back!"
I slammed the door and locked it.
Carter pounded on it, feeding me the same sweet talk he always had.
Through that door, I felt like an idiot.
I'd been so stupid, treasuring words that meant nothing.
Next morning, I called the landlord and sold everything I could.
Sat in the empty room.
My phone buzzed.
Anonymous video.
Delilah and Carter tangled in bed, him whispering "I love you" over and over, lost in it.
My eyes locked on the timestamp.
Three years ago.
The day we buried my dad.
It finally hit me.
While I was falling apart at his funeral, my fiancé was balls-deep into another woman.
And he'd knocked her up.
Rage took over.
I posted the video online. Tagged Delilah as the mistress.
"Sterling Heiress—The Other Woman" trended instantly.
Carter called.
I ignored every one.
Then the comments flooded in.
"I'm Isla's friend. She knew Carter married the whole time."
"She's the real homewrecker. Sorry, Delilah."
"I watched Delilah grow up. She and Carter are childhood sweethearts. They just got married. She's his WIFE."
Maren and the others twisted old screenshots.
Made it look like I knew. Like I was a golden-digger.
My DMs flooded with thousands of hate messages.
I doubled over. A sharp pain ripped through my belly.
Half-conscious, I accidentally answered Carter's call.
"Delilah's just blowing off steam. Why are you attacking her?"
My voice shook. "Then what am I?"
"I didn't say that!" His voice shot up.
"Delilah's fragile right now. Delete the post. Apologize."
"I have a reputation to protect now—for both our families."
"You need to think bigger."
Hearing him say "our" like they were a team—it was almost funny.
"I'm not apologizing!"
His voice went cold.
"Your mom's a cleaner. You really think you two can handle a lawsuit?"
My chest tightened.
He'd once emptied his savings to fix up my mom's house.
Spent every holiday with us. Called her "mom."
Now he was using her against me.
"If the Sterlings sue you for defamation, you'll never pay it off."
I had no choice but caved.
Typed out an apology. Hands steady. Heart dead.
Maren was the first to repost, spinning it hard:
"So proud of my bestie for finally admitting she's the mistress! Growth ?"
A million shares in one minute.
My stomach cramped.
I couldn't believe she'd throw me under the bus like this.
I was about to call her.
Then another call came through. Unknown number.
"Your mom saw your news while cleaning windows at my place."
"She got so upset... FELL off the building!"
