Ten years together, and Dora Fox and I were finally ending our long-distance relationship with an engagement announcement.
At the ceremony, her male secretary swept his gaze over me from head to toe, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
"So, brother-in-law—you're that guy on the foreign sites, aren't you? The one who stars with a different sugar mommy in every video."
"This is our first time meeting in person, but I have to say... your physique looks very familiar."
I lifted my eyes to meet his, my voice cold. "You're certain it was in a video that you saw me?"
The secretary flinched as if I'd struck him, shrinking behind Dora like a man without a spine.
"Sorry, sorry—I forgot you people don't like being recognized after you leave the industry."
Dora's expression darkened instantly. Her brow furrowed, and her gaze cut toward me—not him.
"You must have the wrong person."
The secretary flashed an innocent grin, all teeth and no sincerity.
"Right, right, my mistake. Brother-in-law is far too refined and elegant to be one of those desperate attention-seekers."
Oh, we'd met before.
Back when he was servicing male clients at a certain specialized establishment overseas.
An occupational injury landed him in the hospital. I was the one who stitched him up.
I wondered if he'd been taking the HIV medication I prescribed.
...
Dora and I were the center of attention tonight.
Every eye in the room was fixed on us.
The moment Guy Mason finished speaking, the entire banquet hall fell silent.
Guests exchanged glances, smirking, words hovering unspoken on their lips.
A mutual friend of ours hurried over to smooth things over.
"Don't be ridiculous. David Gilbert studied medicine in Berlin—do you have any idea how demanding that program is? He wouldn't have time for that kind of nonsense."
Guy snorted and curled his lip.
"Please. Everyone knows stressed-out intellectuals love hooking up to blow off steam."
"Besides, Ms. Fox is doing so well for herself now, and brother-in-law's family doesn't exactly have money. Can you blame him for finding a way to earn some bridal gifts lying down?"
I slammed my champagne glass onto the table. The sharp crack silenced the whispers. I stepped toward him, my face hard as stone.
"You'd better have evidence for what you're saying. Otherwise, I'll sue."
Guy hunched his shoulders and slapped a hand over his mouth in mock alarm.
"Boys help boys! Fine, fine, I'll stop."
Dora seized my arm and yanked me back, her grip bruising. She stepped between us—positioning herself in front of Guy, shielding him behind her.
"Enough. You're a grown man. Why are you picking fights with some kid fresh out of college?"
Something in my chest seized. I stared at her—the woman I'd loved for a decade—unable to believe what I'd just heard.
She realized it a beat too late. Her red lips pressed together, but she didn't take it back.
Guy, meanwhile, played the wounded party to perfection. His eyes reddened, his voice small and pitiful.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have butted in."
"I'm sure now that Ms. Fox is so successful, brother-in-law won't need to return to his old line of work."
"Let's just say I got the wrong person..."
The guests who had come to offer congratulations now regarded me with undisguised contempt.
Hands rose to cover smirking mouths. Heads bent together, whispers hissing back and forth.
Some pulled out their phones, already searching for my alleged "content."
A red-faced uncle—drunk enough that his neck had flushed crimson—grabbed Greg Fox by the arm and let out an ugly laugh.
"Well, well. The Fox family really does welcome all comers, huh? Even a son-in-law who's been around the block a few hundred times."
"You were bragging to me about how impressive your future son-in-law was—studying abroad on his own, refusing your money even when you offered."
"Turns out he just had to lie back and spread his legs to rake in foreign cash. No wonder he didn't want your pocket change."
Greg trembled from head to toe, his face burning so hot it looked ready to catch fire.
