On the day of our wedding, Nicole Sullivan live-streamed and made a heartfelt confession to the entire internet.

"Happy wedding, my dear husband," she said, her voice filled with sweetness.

But in the blink of an eye, she ripped my suit apart and grinned cruelly.

"Happy divorce, Lawrence McDermott."

Tears of joy froze on my face, and laughter erupted throughout the venue.

I stood there, completely stunned, as she leaned into her so-called assistant's arms and spoke, "If you hadn’t fought Charles for that brooch a week ago, I wouldn’t have done this to you. Once you finally apologize and he cools off, then I’ll marry you."

But what Nicole had forgotten was that the brooch was my family's heirloom, passed down from my dad.

Just like that, I became the laughingstock of the entire internet.

Meanwhile, Nicole and her assistant, Charles Hughes, quickly became the nation’s favorite “couple.”

Three months later, after they’d finished their whirlwind trip around the world, Nicole asked lazily over breakfast, “Has Lawrence apologized yet?”

“Miss Sullivan… Mr. McDermott has gotten married.”

——

"Aunt Diana, it was her choice not to marry me," I said to the woman in front of me.

The study was dimly lit. Nicole’s mother, Diana, sat at her desk, her face etched with deep worry.

She sighed deeply and replied, "I thought, with our families being so close, our children could...but, forget it, Lawrence. Feelings aren’t something you can force."

She handed me the engagement contract along with a check bearing the word "VOID" stamped on it.

"Leave now," Aunt Diana added, "and fill in the amount on the check yourself."

I left, leaving the check behind.

Our families had been close for years, and they arranged my engagement to Nicole. Although there were some practical benefits to the marriage as a strategic match, to be fair, aside from Nicole, the Sullivans hadn’t wronged me. And I wouldn’t accept a single penny from her mother.

As I stepped out of the villa, the scorching sun overhead reminded me of the day I first met Nicole.

It was a day just like this, under the blazing sun.

She had been like a rare, unattainable flower, and I fell for her instantly.

Once, Nicole looked me up and down with a sneer.

"You’ve got some looks, but don’t even think about taking what’s not yours."

I had thought she was talking about the Sullivan’s wealth, and I was just some guy driven by money.

For three years, I tried to show her that I wasn’t after her family’s wealth.

When Charles Hughes returned from abroad, Nicole eagerly made him her executive assistant. That’s when I realized what she had truly meant all along was her love for him.

I couldn’t bear the thought of those three years being wasted, so I clung to our engagement with everything I had.

But now...

I tossed the torn engagement letter into the trash can.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message:

[I’m leaving. If you’re really not going to say yes, then we’ll never see each other again.]

I stared at the screen for a moment before typing back:

[I accept.]

Not long after I sent the message, my phone rang.

“You’re not just saying this to get back at her, are you?” a woman’s voice asked on the other end.

Without hesitation, I replied, “I swear on my father’s name, I’m not lying to you.”

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a slow, steady breath.

Then she said softly, “I’ll treat you well.”

I smiled.

To her, that was the most loving thing she could say.

...

The flight tickets arrived soon after.

I was leaving tonight, so I went back to the villa to pack. But as I pushed the door open, I saw Nicole, who is usually never home, waiting for me.

"Have you thought it through?"

In the darkness, her voice was cold.

"The brooch... will you let him have it?"

I gripped the brooch over my chest.

Nicole continued, "Charles comes from a poor family. Luxury items are something he’s only started experiencing in the past two years. He doesn’t blame you for taking what’s his; he just wanted your brooch. What’s the matter, aren’t you satisfied?"

She stepped down, looked up, and moved closer to me.

"So, you really want me to cancel our engagement?" Nicole asked, feeling intimidated.

It was her greatest threat, and the one that used to shake me the most.

In the past, I could never swallow my pride. Deep down, I always felt reluctant to accept it.

Even though Charles met her before I did, he never truly loved her. If he had, why would he have married that old lady in the first place?

And why, when he found his name missing from her will, did he divorce her and come searching for Nicole?

Thinking about that, I couldn’t help but laugh.

And so, I asked, "Wouldn’t that be exactly what you want?"

At my question, Nicole furrowed her brows. Turning away, she grabbed two around-the-world tickets.

One was for her.

The other...

My heart skipped a beat.

It had my name on it?

I froze.

I had once mentioned to her before that I wanted to travel the world before the wedding.

'Was she really giving me a ticket?'

But in the next instant, Nicole tore the tickets apart. With a casual flick, she tossed the pieces into the air, and they fluttered down around me.

Then she picked up her phone and said aloud, "Rebook the tickets for Charles and me."

She clicked her tongue and then nodded. "Mm, that’s right. Change it.”

After the call, she glanced at me, her lips curling into a smug, disdainful smile. She brushed past me, her shoulder grazing mine as she walked away.

I couldn’t help but wonder if buying me the plane ticket had been merely a show for her mother. Someone who disliked me as much as she did wouldn't act kindly without an ulterior motive.

I touched the brooch on my chest, my fingers lingering for a moment.

I closed my eyes.

It was the only keepsake my father had left me, and it was my family’s centuries-old inheritance.

There was no way I’d give it up.

Carefully, I removed the brooch, placed it in a velvet box, and tucked it into my suitcase. I had planned to leave that night, but then an email notification arrived in my inbox.

It was an invitation to the memorial concert for my father’s fifth anniversary.

They wanted me, his only living descendant, to perform his classic pieces.

I hesitated for a moment, considering the timing.

Then, after a moment, I called Sharon Kennedy.

“Would it be all right if I arrived a couple of days later?”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Have you changed your mind?" Sharon asked.

"How could I?" I chuckled softly. "I’ve just got something to take care of."

After a beat, she said, "Alright, I believe you. I’ll wait for you.”

A wave of warmth washed over me.

"Okay," I said softly.

The concert was only two days away.

In the meantime, I didn’t send Nicole any messages.

And, as usual, she didn’t reach out to me either.

I relished the peace, focusing on practicing my father’s music. Though I had it all memorized, I still wanted to present the best version of myself at his memorial concert.

...

That morning, I woke up early.

But when I opened the red velvet box, the brooch was gone.

I froze.

A sense of dread slowly crept over me.

I immediately called Nicole.

On the other end, I could hear the concert hall's background music. It was a symphony, strings, applause.

Instantly, my stomach dropped.

"Are you at the concert? Did you take the brooch?"

Nicole’s voice was as indifferent as ever as she answered, "Charles has never attended performances like these. He’s always dreamed of music, but his family couldn’t afford it. You come from a family of musicians. These kinds of events are second nature to you.

She spoke slowly and deliberately. "Charles’s birthday is coming up, so think of this as your gift to him."

"Nicole!!" My voice echoed through the room.

But all that came back through the receiver was the dull beep-beep of a disconnected line. I dialed again, but no one picked up.

Panic set in.

Within minutes, I was in the car, rushing to the venue as quickly as I could.

The moment I stepped out of the car, the music inside froze me in my tracks.

"No! This song cannot be played at this kind of event!"

On the concert stage, a familiar figure, masked and elegant, sat at the piano.

On his chest was none other than my father’s brooch!

The McDermott's heirloom.

The audience eagerly awaited, hanging on every moment as Charles raised his hand and pressed down on the first note.

"No!" I shouted, desperate to stop him.

But the venue was enormous, and my voice didn’t carry far enough.

By the time I reached the VIP seats, the crowd had already broken out.

“What are you playing?” someone shouted.

"Don’t you know the composer of that piece insulted Mr. McDermott?"

Someone in the crowd even added, "Patrick McDermott was a groundbreaking musician! How could you play the enemy’s music at his memorial concert?"

"Yeah! This is supposed to be a tribute to Mr. McDermott, and as his son, you choose not to play his classics but instead play the enemy’s tune? What the hell are you thinking?"

Anger swelled within the audience, transforming their murmurs into loud shouts.

Had security not intervened, they would likely have stormed the stage by now.

Charles leapt up from the piano bench, visibly trembling. I could almost see the fear in his eyes, even behind his mask.

Meanwhile, Nicole rose from her VIP seat, giving a few swift commands to the bodyguards. In the next moment, her team stepped forward, forming a tight line and gently pushing the angry crowd back, keeping them at a distance of five meters from the stage. Then she stepped forward and shielded Charles, escorting him backstage.

I stormed forward, pushing aside the backstage curtain.

"Charles!" I yelled.

Without a word, I lunged at him for the brooch he stole from me, but a hand seized mine.

"Let me go!" I struggled, frantic to reach Charles.

Nicole’s voice rang out. “Have you lost your mind? Charles didn’t even care that you stole his identity, and yet you keep targeting him! He didn’t ask for anything valuable from you. He just wanted a simple apology and a broken brooch! For you, it’s just a meaningless concert, but for him, it’s a dream! Can’t you show a little heart?"

Ignoring her, I retorted, “Get out of my way!”

I shoved her, pushing her back without thinking.

She stumbled backwards, just managing to catch herself.

"Nicole!" Charles shouted as he lunged forward to catch her.

She stared at me in disbelief. "You... pushed me?"

Breathing heavily, I snapped, "First of all, this is a memorial concert for my mother. Second, that brooch is my family’s heirloom! Only a true McDermott by blood has the right to wear it!"

Nicole froze, caught off guard by my words.

Charles’s eyes turned red.

"You’re lying! If this was really about honoring him, why haven’t you held a concert before? Why now, when I’m holding a birthday concert, do you suddenly care? You can’t stand seeing me accomplish something you never gave me credit for! If you hate me that much, just say it! But don’t you dare lay a finger on her!"

I opened my mouth to respond in anger when a voice from the event organizers outside interrupted.

"Everyone, please calm down! There’s been a misunderstanding. The man on stage wasn’t Mr. McDermott’s son; it was a mistake by the staff. Please, don’t be upset."

"That's impossible!" someone yelled.

The furious voices from the audience echoed through the speakers:

"He’s wearing the McDermott's insignia! I recognized it instantly!"

"Exactly! No one outside the McDermotts could have that brooch!"

"Unless you bring the real one out here, we won’t believe you! Do you dare? Do you?"

The organizers, clearly in a panic, scrambled to respond, "We’ll sort this out, we’ll sort this out..."

"Nicole..." Charles’s voice shook slightly.

I glared at him, my tone cold. "Nicole, make him leave.”

"Nicole..." Charles pleaded, his voice trembled even more.

"Nicole!" I snapped, clenched my teeth, anger swelling in my chest. "This is his fault!"

Nicole hesitated for a moment. Then, with a reluctant sigh, she raised her hand.