The Johnson family was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. For the sake of a hundred million, Ashton Johnson agreed to get engaged to me.
But on the day of our engagement, he never showed up. I waited alone at the amusement park, humiliated beneath the glow of spinning lights.
Late that night, I stumbled upon a post from his alternate account.
It was a pregnancy report, with Isabelle Hansen's name written across the top in bold, undeniable letters.
Then Ashton sent me a message.
[You wanted the engagement, and I’ve given it to you. I can’t choose my wife, but you don’t get to decide who my lover is.]
[Isabelle is pregnant. In public, I’m your fiancé. In private, I’m the father of her child.]
[I need four days a week to be with her and the baby, or the wedding’s off.]
I stared at the screen, then let out a cold laugh.
Did he really think I had begged for this engagement?
There were men lined up from Orlando to Paris who would kill for a chance to marry into the Castellano family.
At the engagement party, ninety-nine heirs from the most elite Orlando families stood in a perfect row, waiting for me to choose.
I waved my hand with a dramatic flair.
“Rock-paper-scissors. Whoever wins gets the spot.”
——
That day, the skies opened up with the worst storm of the century.
I stood at the amusement park gate in the rain for ten hours. Soaked to the bone and shivering with cold, my father finally sent a driver to pick me up and take me home.
On the way home, I kept refreshing our chat. The top of the window still showed the video calls I made, unanswered, ignored, like they never mattered.
Not even one reply from Ashton.
When we pulled into the driveway, my father stepped out and helped me from the car. His expression was dark, his voice heavy with disappointment.
“What’s so good about that Ashton boy? Worth standing in the rain for ten hours?”
“The contract’s signed, and the hundred million is gone. Can’t you see him for what he is now?”
I placed my trembling hand over his, my voice quiet but resolute.
“You’re right. I don’t want Ashton anymore.”
“That kind of ungrateful trash isn’t worth your tears.”
My father’s expression froze as if he hadn’t heard me right.
“What? You said…”
“Yeah. I said I don’t want Ashton. I haven’t even married him yet, and he’s already cheating. What’s he going to do after the wedding, treat me like a doormat?”
“You can go ahead and let those ninety-nine candidates you lined up take their chances. Rock-paper-scissors, whoever wins, I’ll marry. The Castellano family doesn’t need a son-in-law cursed with bad luck.”
The moment the words left my mouth, everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I was already lying in my bedroom, the scent of warm sheets wrapped around me.
Ashton sat at the edge of the bed, his face dark as night. The second he saw me awake, his expression sank even deeper.
“Are you serious? I miss one date, and you go running to your family to tattle?”
“Do you have any idea how bad Isabelle’s morning sickness was today? She nearly passed out! And to you, a human life matters less than some silly date?”
He didn’t give me a chance to speak. His words came at me like machine-gun fire.
“I already agreed to marry you. Isabelle is just a mistress I keep on the side. Can’t you be a little more tolerant? What more do you want? Your possessiveness is insane. You might as well put a leash on me!”
After he finished venting, I looked at him with calm indifference.
“Is that what you think I am?”
My composure only ignited his anger. He shot up from the bed.
“What else? You think my dad’s a fortune teller?”
“One call from him and I’m ordered to come here and ‘recognize my place.’”
“Kate, I agreed to this marriage alliance, but I’m still a free man. I’m not your dog!”
As I stared into his bloodshot eyes, I suddenly realized that explaining anything was useless.
“Fine. Think whatever you want. Forced love is never sweet. I’ll give you what you want.”
His face twisted in frustration again. He raked a hand through his short hair, clearly agitated.
