### Chapter 1
I was on my way to try on wedding dresses when my fiancé called. "The wedding's off. Vivian's pregnant and her fiancé dumped her."
"A child can't grow up without a father. I'm going to marry Vivian first. I'll make it up to you in a couple of years."
"She and I are like brother and sister. Don't overthink this."
The air locked in my chest. My mind went blank. The line was already dead.
But I'd already seen it. The chat between Stewart and his assistant, left open on the study computer.
"Vivian came back from abroad for me. If I betrayed her to marry that woman, imagine how devastated she'd be."
His assistant had replied right away: "Aren't you worried Miss Hughes will be disappointed enough to leave you?"
Stewart's voice message dripped with contempt:
"Delgado Corp is about to go public. I'll be worth billions. You really think she'd walk away from that?"
So rather than betray Vivian, he'd betray the woman who'd waited six years.
Six years of devotion, and none of it could compete with one backward glance from his childhood sweetheart.
Fine. Then I'd give them exactly what they wanted.
I didn't hesitate. I called my father and asked him to pull every last dollar out of Delgado Corp.
1.
My father's voice sharpened. "Aren't you two getting married in a couple of days? Did that bastard hurt you?"
At this stage, right before the IPO, losing their largest investor would be catastrophic for Stewart.
The moment I opened my mouth, my voice cracked:
"There is no wedding. He's marrying someone else."
"Don't you worry. Daddy will handle this." Even through the phone, his fury was deafening.
After I hung up, my mind drifted back six years.
Delgado Corp had been on the verge of bankruptcy. Stewart's childhood sweetheart, Vivian Porter, had left him.
I was the one who secretly begged my father to prop the company up from behind the scenes and set it back on track.
And I was the one who walked Stewart out of the wreckage of that heartbreak, step by step.
Six years together. Then, on my birthday, he got down on one knee and promised to make me the happiest woman alive.
Then Vivian came back.
And everything changed.
My phone shattered the silence of the study.
"Leonora Hughes, get here now! Stewart's in a fight!"
In the background, I could hear Stewart roaring.
"Apologize to my fiancée, or I'll make sure you regret it!"
The word hit like a fist to the sternum.
He'd just told me the wedding was postponed. And already he was calling someone else his fiancée.
I rushed to the club and found Stewart cradling a delicate, sobbing woman in his arms.
One of Stewart's friends pulled me aside, his face tight with worry.
"Some guys said Vivian was dressed like a hooker. Stewart heard and lost it."
"He's wasted. You need to talk him down."
A client had once harassed me, told me to sleep with him to close the deal.
Stewart hadn't been angry. He'd blamed me for being difficult, said I'd cost him business.
Now here he was, so drunk he could barely stand, yet raging like a wild animal because someone had said one unkind word about Vivian Porter.
Mid-argument, one of the men swung a bottle at Stewart's head.
My body moved before my brain caught up. I threw myself in front of him.
Crack.
The bottle shattered against my forehead. A dull, spreading pain.
Something warm and wet crept down from my hairline.
"You crazy bitch! You jumped in front of me! I didn't touch you!" The man's face went white. He dropped the bottle and bolted.
Glass crunched under his shoes as he fled.
Blood ran down my cheeks, warm and sticky. The concern I'd been praying for never came. Instead, Stewart's voice exploded in my ear:
"What the hell is wrong with you, Leonora? Didn't you see what they were doing to Vivian?"
"You just let the guy walk out? Was that on purpose?!"
Every word froze the blood in my veins.
Some pathetic part of me had wanted to see if he would lose his mind for me the way he did for Vivian.
But there was no tenderness in his eyes. No protectiveness. Only rage.
Why was I so desperate?
Stewart had already decided I was there to cause trouble.
"What are you even doing here? Came to laugh at Vivian?"
"Pack up that pitiful pride of yours. Let me make this clear: as long as I'm around, nobody touches her."
Tears of humiliation burned behind my eyes.
"I wasn't—"
Vivian cut me off with a sob. "Stewart, this is all my fault for coming to you for help! Leonora has every right to hate me. I should just go. You two can have your wedding."
Stewart melted instantly. He wiped her tears with a gentleness I hadn't seen in years:
"Don't you dare. She's the petty one, not you. You've done nothing wrong."
One of his friends, trying to break the tension, held out a glass of wine toward me.
"A toast to you, Mrs. Delgado."
Stewart snapped at him before the glass reached my hand:
"Don't you know she's allergic to alcohol?"
So he remembered. After all this time, he actually remembered.
Then Vivian let out a teary little laugh.
"Silly. He was toasting Leonora, not me."
Stewart's face cleared. He gave a satisfied nod. "Oh, her. She can drink. Especially when she's entertaining clients."
The words burned through me until there was nothing left.
I'd told him I was allergic the very first day I joined Delgado Corp.
And every time there was a business dinner, I was the first one he sent to pour drinks.
I'd broken out in hives. I'd ended up in the hospital with a perforated stomach lining. He'd called me dramatic, said I was faking sick over a few glasses of wine.
It wasn't that he couldn't remember. He'd simply never cared. Not about me. Seeing him with Vivian made that unbearably clear.
I swallowed the bitterness, picked up the glass, and drained it in one go.
"Stewart Delgado, I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."
