Married the Right Girl This Time

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance.

My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie.

Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it.

A month later, I tested positive for an STD.

Then I caught her bragging to her friends.

"Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?"

Her friends were cracking up.

"I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor."

"Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins."

Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid."

That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up.

I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers.

She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you?

"Once Caleb forgives me, you're done."

I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement.

"Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD."

Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away.

Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal.

Only this time, on the wedding day?

She was the one crying.

"Quinn, Rosie's actually had a thing for you forever. If you actually married her, she'd lose it."

I jerked awake. Gordon Yelton was staring dead serious.

I was alive. Again.

Deborah, his wife, sat next to me, clutching my hand, all soft smiles. "You've crushed on Rosie for ten years. If this marriage happens..."

My parents exchanged tight smiles. We all knew the game.

This wasn't about love. The Yeltons were broke, and they needed our money. Everyone knew I'd been Rosie's lovesick fool.

Back then? Marrying her felt like some fantasy come true.

Now? I wanted her dead.

I snapped out of it. "I'm not marrying Rosie."

Silence. Every pair of eyes locked on me.

I used to orbit Rosie—chasing every glance, every word.

Deborah blinked. "Did you two fight? I'll talk to her."

I shook my head. "Don't bother."

Gordon frowned. "Is this about Caleb?"

I didn't answer.

He sighed. "Caleb's just some broke kid we sponsored. Rosie felt sorry for him. I'll have someone ship him off."

He said the same crap last time. It blew up in my face.

Rosie lost it when Caleb got yanked out of her life.

On our wedding night, she sent in a pack of girls infected with STDs. I didn't know until a month later—right before she locked me in the basement to see which disease would stick.

By the time my parents figured it out, my rep was already in flames.

"This is your son," she told them. "He cheated, caught something gross, and brought it home. Filthy."

They were crushed. It destroyed them.

Rosie didn't flinch. She clung to Caleb and sneered, "Once your parents die, I'm handing Quandt Corp to Caleb. He deserves it."

I felt completely hollow.

Then I rotted.

Just remembering made my hands tremble.

"Rosie doesn't deserve me," I said, sharp.

Gordon's jaw clenched. "Yeah, our company's bleeding. But if your family backs us, you won't regret it."

He wasn't wrong.

Last time, my parents dumped a million into Yelton Group. It exploded. Quandt Corp stayed behind the scenes and still raked in cash.

I wasn't against smart business.

But my voice stayed ice cold. "I'm not marrying Rosie Yelton. I'm marrying Yvette Yelton."

The room went still.

Gordon shot up. "Yvette?!"

"She's adopted," Deborah whispered. "And she just got kidnapped... she's in a wheelchair. Didn't you hate her?"

Dad stepped in. "Quinn! Don't do anything stupid!"

I just patted his hand, keeping him calm.