Three days before the wedding, the church called to inform me that my fiancé had changed the date.

When I went to ask him why, I walked in on him throwing a bachelor party with his friends.

"Samuel, this was the day Claire personally chose. Why would you suddenly change it?" someone asked.

Samuel Gordon stubbed out his cigarette, looking utterly nonchalant.

"Because that day happens to be Janet's birthday," he said. "I need to celebrate it with her."

The room fell silent in shock.

"Aren't you afraid Claire will find out and kill you? Have you forgotten what she did before?"

At the mention of my name, Samuel gave an icy snort.

"That was all in the past. Claire loves me to death now. She even took three bullets for me once, so how could she ever bring herself to hurt me?"

I stood at the doorway, watching the snow fall behind me, and let out a long sigh.

Five days later, he stood in an empty church, frantically calling my phone.

"Did you forget? It's our wedding day!"

"I didn't forget," I said.

In another church, wearing a wedding gown, I was saying "I do" to another man.

I picked out the wedding date myself, bright and early.

It was supposed to be the day Samuel Gordon would shout our love from the rooftops for the whole world to hear.

My dad even skipped out on a deal worth millions, flying in from Francoria just for me.

However, Samuel's offhand comment made it all meaningless.

I stared at the snowflake melting in my hand, a bitter ache spreading through my chest.

"So, Samuel, when are you going to break the news to Claire?" asked the guy next to him in the private room.

Samuel flicked his hand, clearly annoyed.

"Why bother telling her? She's been all in on this wedding lately; she's probably figured it out by now."

He checked his watch. "The fact she hasn't come after me just proves I'm right. Claire will go along with whatever I decide."

The guy lifted his glass in a salute, "That's our Mr. Gordon. Remember how Claire turned Twilight City inside out to get your attention? And now, just a few years later, you've got her eating out of your hand."

"If her tough-as-nails father, the Don, knew how meek his little heiress has gotten, he'd probably keel over."

Samuel's laugh was tinged with smugness, and his eyes sparkled with triumph.

Then his phone buzzed, and he smirked as he read the message.

"Let's tidy up, folks. My darling's on her way."

Everyone exchanged confused looks, not sure what to make of it.

I spun around on instinct and saw a girl in a pink coat dashing toward the hotel.

She stopped in front of me, gave her umbrella a shake, and dumped it into my arms like I was some bellboy.

I snorted and tossed the umbrella right back at her.

"Ah---"

She yelped, clutching the back of her head. "Who the heck thinks they can hit me?!"

She spotted the umbrella on the ground and immediately swung her hand up at me.

However, in a flash, I had her wrist in a vice grip, and she was sweating bullets from the pain.

"Janet, is that you?"

I stared down at her face, one I recognized all too well from Samuel's old photo albums, where he admitted she was an ex.

I did not make a big deal about it. I mean, when I was falling for Samuel, I shrugged off a whole parade of exes just like her.

However, I never thought he would actually postpone our wedding for her. That thought made my grip tighten until she was frantically batting at my hand.

"Release me! Let go! You're breaking my hand!"

Yet, her pleas only made me squeeze harder.

Then came the slam of a door.

Samuel shoved me against a pillar, and I hit the ground hard.

"Janet!" His voice was laced with concern as he cradled her wrist, his eyes soft. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she pointed at me, the picture of innocence wronged. "She attacked me, this waitress, and I didn't even do anything!"

"Waitress?" Samuel spun around, fury rising. "How dare a waitress lay a finger on my…"

He stopped short, his gaze locking on me sprawled on the floor.

"Your what?" I brushed off the blood from my hand and met his gaze with an icy stare.

The others gathered around, their faces a mix of shock and concern. "Ms. Jones, what brings you here?"

I ignored them, my eyes fixed on Samuel, repeating my question. "Your what?"

He faltered, finally muttering, "My friend."

As he clung to Janet's hand, I could not help but scoff.

His annoyance was clear as day.

"Claire, why do you always lash out at any woman who comes near me?

"Say you're sorry to my friend Janet, or forget about the wedding."

He was the one who cheated, but then he stood there, all high and mighty.

The crowd backed him up. "Claire, you're going too far."

"Seriously, ease up on the control. What's it gonna be like when you're married?"

...

I took it all in silence, then my gaze landed on Janet Lloyd.

She stood there, chest out, looking like the cat that got the cream.

"Apologize?" I let out a derisive laugh. "Sure, I can apologize."

Samuel's face relaxed for a split second, and the scorn in the room thickened.

"I just wonder who here can actually handle my apology."

That caught everyone off guard, and their eyes flicked to Samuel.

He was scowling at me, as icy as the day we met.

A sharp pain hit my heart, but I kept my cool.

"Samuel, remember who my dad is.

"And don't forget who got you where you are today."

He did not get a chance to answer. Dad's Underboss came rushing in.

"Ms. Jones, Don Jones has thrown a feast, and I'm here to take you and Mr. Gordon home."

I glanced at Samuel and his new squeeze, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"Looks like Mr. Gordon's too busy for home right now.

"We should head out, not spoil Mr. Gordon's bachelor bash."

"Claire!" Samuel's voice dropped, a mix of warning and annoyance.

However, he still joined me in the car.

No surprise there. With the Gordon family's big meeting on the horizon, he needed Dad's backing. He would not dare snub him.

However, he was stubborn. Once he settled into the passenger seat, he clammed up, his fingers dancing over his phone in silence.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of his screen as he typed out a message.

[Sweetheart, don't be mad. I've got a surprise for you tomorrow when we meet.]

He only looked up after sending it, and that's when I broke the silence.

"Samuel, do you remember what June 4th is?"

"It's Janet's birthday, isn't it?"

He shot back the answer without missing a beat.

Then, realization creased his forehead. "Claire, you're quick. You've already had someone dig into her, huh?"

He sighed, a look of resignation in his eyes, which then flickered with unease at the sight of my swollen palm. He grabbed my hand, fished out some iodine from his bag, and started dabbing at the swelling.

"You always sweat the small stuff," he muttered.

"Cut out the drama, will you? A bruised hand won't look nice with a wedding ring on it.

"You've poured your heart into planning this wedding, don't you want to take care of yourself for it?"

I looked down, a shadow falling over my face.

Samuel had, as I feared, completely forgotten that day.

June 4th was the day I took three bullets for him, the day he finally confessed his love.

I was after Samuel for five long years.

I showered him with lavish gifts, which he would unceremoniously dump in the storage closet.

Then I would fling wads of cash at his flings, boldly declaring, "Whatever he pays you, I'll double it. Just leave him."

I turned Twilight City upside down for him. Everyone knew that the Jones family's mob princess had her eyes set on Samuel.

After that, no woman dared come near him, much to his annoyance.

However, I did not care. I always got what I wanted, one way or another.

Later, I resorted to some cunning to get Samuel into bed.

He woke up with his hand around my throat. "Claire, are you that desperate for me?" he asked.

His body still reeked of alcohol, and it sent my senses into a tailspin.

That day, I confessed, "Yes, I am that desperate for you."

Somehow, Samuel's grip loosened, and we found ourselves getting cozy all the way to the kitchen.

"Do I really need you?" I whispered.

"What did you say?" Samuel's eyebrows knitted together.

I did not get a chance to answer; his phone started ringing.

He turned the volume down and moved closer to the window, as if to keep me from overhearing.

A minute later, he was tapping the driver's shoulder frantically.

"Stop the car!"

He left in a flurry of snow.

"Mr. Gordon, what's going on? Ms. Jones, should we follow him?" the driver asked.

I caught a glimpse of the desperate man in the rearview mirror.

In that instant, I questioned myself. 'Did I really need him that much?'

The answer was a resounding no.

I could chase a man with all the tricks up my sleeve, but once he betrayed me, he was nothing but trash to me.

Trash is meant to be discarded.

I looked away and told the driver calmly, "No, let's head home."

Seeing me return alone, my father's face turned stormy. "Bring that scoundrel back here!"

I quickly calmed him down, his anger flaring at me. "Claire, our family doesn't show mercy!"

"I know, but I loved him once.

"Give him one last chance, and if he betrays me again,"

"I'll take matters into my own hands, whether it's his hands or his life."

Father was silent for a while before he turned to the butler.

"Tell the families, the wedding's off."

"There's no need," I cut in.

"Father, is that marriage alliance you mentioned still on the table?"

Word got around fast, and Dad wasted no time in getting word to the Smiths. He always dreamed of me marrying into their family, the perfect match in his eyes, and they owed him big time for saving their hides once.

However, I was head over heels for Samuel and kept saying no. I can still hear Dad's voice, heavy with meaning, as I walked out the door, "Claire, are you sure about this?"

I did not have an answer. I did not even meet the Smith guy. However, there was no way I was going to let Samuel off the hook that easily. I wanted to see him squirm, to watch him lose every ounce of his cool in front of everyone we knew.

My phone shattered my reverie with its shrill ring.

It was the cops. Samuel got himself into a brawl.

My heart skipped a beat. He bleeds out over paper cuts, for crying out loud.

After a moment's hesitation, I threw on my coat and braved the snowstorm.

By the time I got there, my hair was a frozen mess. I did not even step inside when I heard the shouting.

"You think you can hit my girl and live to tell about it?" Samuel was on top of some guy, pummeling him without a care in the world, blood everywhere.

I never saw that side of him.

His condition had him pushing me away time and again. Too risky, he said, being with Don Jones' daughter. I bit my tongue, avoiding trouble, even ready to ditch my inheritance once we tied the knot, all to keep him safe.

For what? So his friends could laugh in my face? However, there he was, throwing punches like his life did not matter, all for a girl. The unfairness of it all burned inside me like wildfire.

I slammed the door open with a forceful kick, and the buzz of the office cut to dead silence.

Samuel caught sight of me, annoyed, lacing his voice, "You know, if you'd been any later, you'd be walking down the aisle to a corpse."

He then barked orders at me as if he were my supervisor, "Once you've handled this, meet me in the underground garage."

With that, he strolled downstairs with Janet, his arm around her, whispering reassurances, "Don't worry, I've got you, nothing's going to happen."

They were lost in their own world, their closeness for all to see.

Only after they vanished did the officer snap me back to reality. "Ms. Jones, Ms. Lloyd has accused her father of abuse, and Mr. Gordo just lost it for a second."

"Are you her father?" Ignoring the cop, I fixed my gaze on the trembling man. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Claire, Frank Jones's daughter."

The man shook like a leaf in a storm.

Crossing our family meant flirting with disaster, with outcomes ranging from crippling injuries to total annihilation.

He hit the floor hard, pleading as he clutched at my pants, "No, I'm not! She just paid me to play a part!"

I could not help but sneer as I yanked him up by his hair and dragged him out.

I was dying to see how Samuel would react when he discovered his sweetheart had played him from the start.

However, the moment I stepped into the underground garage, I froze.

Samuel and Janet were locked in a kiss inside my car.

"Samuel, you scared me to death. With all that blood, I thought you really had a clotting disorder."

Samuel chuckled, "That was just some story I cooked up to turn Claire down back then. She can be quite the handful."

"And why did you end up with her anyway?"

He stopped short, as if weighing his words.

"I couldn't figure it out. Maybe all I ever needed was her father. "

His words cut through me like a thousand knives.

So, this whole time, he was just using me?

He never loved me, and I never really had him.

I let out a bitter chuckle.

My hands balled into fists.

'Samuel, you're heartless,' I seethed inwardly.

I marched toward him, but agony suddenly ripped through my stomach.

That man, who claimed to be Janet's father, plunged a knife into me.

"Ms. Jones, I wish it hadn't come to this, but your father killed my wife, and now his daughter has to pay," he said.

"It was tough getting close to you, but Janet tipped me off that your Achilles' heel is Samuel. She was spot on."

With those words, he tossed the knife aside and bolted.

I collapsed, my hands pressed against the bleeding wound.

At that moment, everything clicked.

However, the pain was drowning me, and I knew I was on borrowed time.

The parking garage was deserted in the dead of night. No, there was one more.

"Samuel."

I whispered his name, clinging to a sliver of hope.

However, he was oblivious, lost in a fervent embrace with Janet against the car window.

The sound of their passion smothered my pleas.

"What was that?"