Chapter 1Your Wedding Cost My Sisters Life

My girlfriend is an heiress—old money, ivory tower, the kind of wealth that feels like a physical barrier. We were together for seven years, and in all that time, she never bought me a single gift. When she finally accepted my proposal, she made me return the diamond ring I’d spent three years saving for, calling it "tacky." Then, standing outside the courthouse to get our license, she backed out, claiming the thirty-dollar filing fee was a "waste of money" and we should just forget it.

Then she turned around and married her childhood sweetheart, the boy-next-door from her exclusive gated community. She threw an engagement gala that took over the Waldorf Astoria, a display of decadence that lit up the entire city skyline.

My sister, Annie, had just undergone a heart transplant. The stress of the news—the betrayal—sent her into a fatal rejection episode. I knelt at my girlfriend’s feet, begging her to give me back the seven years of salary I’d deposited into her account for "safekeeping." I needed it for Annie’s ICU bills.

She looked at me like I was a stranger. Clinging to her new husband’s arm, she told the guards she didn’t do "charity work for obsessed fans" and had me thrown out into the snow.

I watched Annie die on New Year’s Eve, the sound of her final breath drowned out by the celebratory fireworks echoing over the Chicago River. I handled her funeral alone. Then, I accepted a lead developer role at a tech giant in Houston—an olive branch I’d ignored for years out of loyalty to a woman who never loved me.

When I went back to our apartment to grab my passport, she was there, fresh from visiting her in-laws, looking radiant. She thought I was playing a game of emotional chicken. For the first time in seven years, she was "generous."

"Stop acting," she said, her voice airy and dismissive. "Your sister is fine. Tell you what—I’ll throw you a pity wedding later this year. Let the girl have her moment of vanity. I know you people love to feel important."

She didn't know that from the moment Annie’s heart stopped beating, I had already decided I was done with her forever.

* * *

I had just reached for my passport when a slender, manicured hand snatched it away.

"What are you looking for so intently? You didn't even notice I was home."

Serena had just walked in. The tip of her nose was flushed from the Chicago wind, her designer coat still dusted with light snow. When she realized it was my passport, her playful smirk vanished, replaced by a sharp, impatient knit of her brows.

"A passport? Really, Nathan? Are you trying to stage an international exit now? I already told you, Derek’s family was breathing down his neck. The marriage license was just to get them off his back. We’ll get a quiet annulment in a few months. It’s a business move."

I didn't look at her. I reached out and pulled the passport back with a cold, steady hand.

She flexed her freezing fingers, looking surprised. Usually, the moment she walked through the door, I’d be there with a warm towel, a hot tea, and a barrage of questions about whether she was cold. Today, I was ice.

She stepped in close, standing on her tiptoes to drape her arms over my shoulders. The smell of expensive perfume and the freezing outdoors hit me as she forced me to meet her eyes.

"Nathan, you’re being so dramatic. Do you have any idea how many people from the Board were at that gala? If word got back to my mother that I was seeing someone like you, we’d both be ruined. I did this for us."

I let out a jagged, self-deprecating laugh. To her, I wasn't a partner. I was a toy she was embarrassed to show her friends.

I pried her hands off me. She lunged back in, her cold fingers grazing the deep bruise on my cheekbone. She giggled, though there was no warmth in it.

"Ouch. Those security guards were a bit rough, weren't they? They ruined my handsome guy's face. Don't worry, I'll dock their pay."

This was her routine. Whenever I was truly hurting, she’d use this toxic blend of playfulness and "protection" to make me forgive her. It wouldn't work this time.

Seven days ago, at her engagement party, the guards had beaten me in the alley behind the hotel on her orders. "A gutter rat trying to eat caviar," they’d sneered. "Mr. Vanderbilt and Miss Montgomery are a match made in heaven. You’re nothing."

Passersby had pointed and laughed, filming the "beggar" crying for money from a socialite. My dignity had been stripped bare in the street.

Seeing that I still wasn't cracking, Serena pulled out her final card. She produced a small, pink velvet hair clip with a bow and shook it in front of me.

"For Annie. And stop using her surgery to lie to me and get my attention. It’s beneath you."

Annie. My only living relative.

She’d been born with a congenital heart defect. She had just finished her transplant surgery, and her only wish was to see me and Serena officially married. Instead, she saw the news of Serena’s marriage to Derek Vanderbilt on a hospital TV and collapsed.

The doctors told me we needed another ten thousand dollars for emergency stabilization and post-op care. I spent New Year’s Eve calling every contact I had, begging for a loan. I was blocked, mocked, or told I was "bad luck."

While the city cheered for the new year, thirteen-year-old Annie slipped away. Now, I was truly alone.

Thinking of her pale face made my heart feel like it was being crushed by a vice. I didn't take the clip.

"Serena," I said, my voice sounding like gravel. "We’re—"

Through. The word was on the tip of my tongue, but she cut me off.

"Fine, fine. I get it. You’re probably short on cash after the holidays."

She tapped her phone and sent me a notification. A two-hundred-dollar transfer.

"Consider that for Annie’s 'supplements.' No need to write me an IOU for this one."

It was pathetic. She was so terrified I was a gold-digger that she insisted on "managing" my salary, giving me a meager allowance after "approving" my expenses. Every time she gave me a dime of my own money, she made me sign a promissory note. After seven years, I was technically "in debt" to her for thousands.

I used to think she was just "fiscally responsible" because of her upbringing. I’d indulged her, thinking it was a quirk of the wealthy.

But her frugality only applied to me. She had no problem buying Derek a limited-edition Ferrari or a multi-million dollar condo in Aspen. It made the front page of the tabloids every time.

Where the money goes, the love follows.

I hit 'decline' on the transfer and sent it back immediately. "I don't need it. Not anymore."

Serena finally looked at me, her expression shifting from annoyance to a strange, frustrated pity.

"Not enough? Fine. I’ll give you the wedding. We’ll do a ceremony. It’ll give your sister something to brag about to the nurses. You two really are cut from the same cloth..."

Vain. That was the word she always used. I’d spent seven years being told that wanting a normal life—gifts, dates, a public acknowledgement of our love—was "low-class vanity" and a "grasp at her fortune."

"There’s no need for a wedding," I said. "We aren't a couple."

Serena’s face hardened. The mask of the playful girlfriend dropped, revealing the cold heiress underneath.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Serena shot me a warning look and went to open it.

The next second, her voice turned into a melodic, high-pitched chirp. "What are you doing here?"

I looked over. Derek was standing in the doorway, wearing a designer parka that perfectly matched Serena’s. He reached out with practiced intimacy and ruffled her hair.

"Hey, princess. The guys are at the club and they want to see their 'new sister-in-law.' Come spend the day with me."

His eyes drifted past her to me, a calculated, taunting smirk on his lips.

"Nathan. You don't mind, right? You seemed pretty cool with everything at the gala."

As he spoke, he laced his fingers with Serena’s, purposefully flashing their matching platinum wedding bands. Serena’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him.

"He doesn't mind," she said quickly. "Of course I'll go. I owe you one for the public spectacle anyway."

She grabbed her handbag, ready to vanish. After two steps, she seemed to remember I existed. She let go of Derek’s hand, walked over, and kissed the corner of my mouth.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "This is the last time. After today, I’m all yours."

But Serena, there is no "after today" for us.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as I watched them disappear down the hall, their laughter echoing in the elevator. I turned back to the desk and picked up the resignation letter I’d already printed.