

Chapter 1 of He Canceled Our Wedding,So I Married His Rival
As we passed our alma mater, Claude Gilbert spoke without warning:
“Olivia Fox, let's call off the wedding. It's in three days.”
I kept my gaze level:“For the sake of a woman who wrecks everything she touches?”
His eyes flashed a warning:“Whether she's a wreck or not, I'll always have her back. As long as she's genuine with me, that's enough.”
I stared at this man I'd loved for nine years. Stared for a long time. Then I smiled and nodded:“Sure. Then I wish you the best of luck collecting that genuine heart from a genuine wreck.”
Nine years of love, and every last drop of it was gone.
It was time to go home, claim my family's inheritance, and marry the man my grandfather had chosen for me all those years ago.
……
Claude's cool eyes widened a fraction. He hadn't expected someone as straight-laced and serious as me to throw a barb laced with that much venom.
His lips curved downward:“Olivia, I'll admit these nine years were wasted on you because of me. But I hope you won't let jealousy drive you to hurt her.”
He didn't bother examining why I'd changed. He simply filed it under jealousy and moved on.
I looked at this man I'd chased for nine years and never managed to win.
And all at once, the whole thing felt pointless.
He'd talked about honoring what we'd shared, about both of us trying.
In truth, he'd stood by with cold indifference while I sank deeper and deeper into a bond I couldn't claw my way out of.
He didn't love me. He didn't care where my soul went for air.
All he'd ever seen was a prim, proper, rigidly well-mannered heiress who couldn't hold a candle to the woman tattooed on his heart.
I used to believe that even if he wandered off course for a while,
he'd correct himself in time and stand beside me, fighting the same fight.
Now I could see the truth. You can't prop up a man who insists on lying in the mud.
“Claude, you really didn't forget our nine-year promise.”
A tall woman in a scarlet dress emerged from behind him. Black hair, red lips, striking to the point of aggression.
She carried herself with careless ease and hooked her arm through Claude's without hesitation:
“I heard you finally got over me and were getting married? How come I never got an invitation?”
“If you're really tying the knot, why bother showing up to keep our date?”
A few pointed questions from Isabel Cox, and Claude Gilbert, the man of few words and fewer emotions, turned red to the tips of his ears. He blurted out:
“Who said I'm getting married? That's completely made up.”
The moment the words left his mouth, his gaze darted to me, terrified I'd expose the lie on my next breath.
I lowered my head, hiding the scorn pulling at the corner of my lips:“He's right. Completely made up.”
No wonder he'd suddenly rerouted to our alma mater today, when he was supposed to be taking me to try on wedding dresses.
Isabel tossed her long hair back with a carefree flick:“Olivia, honestly, you're embarrassing. I gave you nine whole years, and you still couldn't lock this boy down. You should've done what I did back in the day and just gone for it.”
If I hadn't already known Isabel Cox's true face, I might have genuinely mistaken her for some bold, breezy, effortlessly gorgeous free spirit.
She brought up the old days with a laugh, and Claude reached for her hand on his own. His voice was firm:
“I'm not just anyone's for the taking.”
I didn't believe most of what came out of Claude Gilbert's mouth.
But that line? That one I believed completely.
Even though Isabel had been caught in hotel rooms with industry executives over a dozen times while they were dating, selling herself to chase her modeling career.
Claude had stayed. Loyal to the bone. He'd even begged her not to break up with him.
This was a man born into one of the most powerful families in the city. Proud, cold, untouchable. Most people couldn't get so much as a glance from him.
Yet Isabel could tug at every string in his chest with barely any effort, driving him to obsession, driving him to madness.
She leaned into him with a coy smile:“Didn't you promise you'd let me try out the back seat of that Maserati? Let's see if you're still as impressive as you used to be after all these years.”
Desire surged behind Claude's eyes. He didn't refuse.

















