His Debt of Five Hundred Million

Tearing my couture wedding gown to shreds, shattering a seven-year vow.

On the day of my wedding dress fitting, a strange woman stormed into the VIP suite of Éclat Bridal on New York's Fifth Avenue, shattering my fairy-tale dream with a splash of champagne.

She tore my gown to shreds, her face twisted in rage. "You're just a gold digger trying to climb the social ladder. You don't deserve a dress this beautiful!"

A shard from the shattered champagne bottle pierced my abdomen, and I collapsed in agony.

She grabbed my hair, slapped me hard across the face, and roared, "Julian promised he would marry me! You're nothing but a homewrecker!"

As blood stained my dress, the truth crashed down on me. My boyfriend of seven years had been deceiving me all along.

"You still dare to glare at me? My man is a titan in this city. I could kill you right now, and no one would lift a finger!" she taunted.

With one blood-soaked hand, I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother. "Wyatt, come get me at Éclat Bridal," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "And tell the Monroes the wedding is off."

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1

I hung up the phone, the intense pain burning through me like a wildfire. My mind was a maelstrom of chaos, drowned out only by the frantic pounding of my heart.

Searing pain shot from my abdomen, where shards of glass were embedded in my flesh. Every breath felt like it was ripping the gash wider, sending fresh waves of torture through my body.

My trembling fingers scrabbled for purchase on a nearby clothing rack as Tessa Shaw loomed over me, a vicious glint in her eyes.

"What, calling for backup?" she sneered, her voice sharp with mockery.

The surrounding crowd of socialites snickered, their faces masks of smug judgment. The flash of phone cameras blinded me, the clicks sounding like circling vultures. Whispers slithered through the air, each word a knife twisting in my heart.

"Caught in the act, the homewrecker. Serves her right, doesn't it?"

"That gorgeous dress? She probably slept her way into it."

Tessa, teetering in her high heels, kicked me to the ground. "Who do you think you are? Who's going to save you? Your sugar daddy? Not a chance."

She grabbed my wedding dress and ripped it violently, the blood-soaked fabric scattering like rags. "Wearing my dress, stealing my man? Let everyone see the true face of this slut! I am Julian's wife. You're just a toy he's tired of. Did you really think you could replace me?"

I snapped my head up, a sharp pain piercing my chest.

Seven years. I'd been with Julian Monroe for seven years. He used to spoil me, driving thirty minutes after work just for my favorite cupcakes. He'd planned ninety-nine proposals, all for my fairytale moment.

But now, his supposed wife had stabbed me with a broken bottle and called me a homewrecker. And just like that, seven years of love and devotion imploded, revealed as nothing but a lie.

The crowd's jeers echoed in my ears, but I met Tessa's gaze without fear, my voice laced with ice. "I am not some cheap plaything. I am Cordelia Caldwell. From Caldwell Industries."

The room erupted in derisive laughter. Even Tessa cackled. "Caldwell Industries? Since when did the world's richest family produce trash like you?"

The glass shards twisted in my flesh, and I flinched from the pain.

Before I could respond, she roared, "How dare you look at me like that?"

She kicked my abdomen, a brutal impact directly on the wound. The force of the blow sent me curling onto the marble floor, a cold sweat soaking through my ruined dress.

She wasn't finished. She grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the floor. "Still defiant? I'm his legal wife. Killing you would be getting off easy."

I gave a bitter smile and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

For all these years, I had been living in a web of Julian's lies. His so-called business trips? They were secret getaways to marry another woman. His wedding plans were never for me.

We were done.

"I need to go to the hospital," I said hoarsely, prying her hand away. "If anything happens to me today, the first person to go down will be Julian. He'll throw you under the bus to save himself!"

Tessa laughed, finding my threat ridiculous. "Who do you think you are? You think I'm scared? Julian would never hurt me for a toy like you!"

She raised the broken glass again, her eyes filled with fury, but I had no strength left to dodge.

Just then, the screech of tires from an Aston Martin sports car echoed from outside. My brother, Wyatt Caldwell, had arrived.

I forced my eyes open, clutching my bleeding abdomen as I struggled to my feet. I fixed Tessa with a glare, enunciating each word. "I told you. My name is Cordelia Caldwell. And you are going to pay."