To repay the debt my father owed him, I lifted Hudson Grant from a broke nobody into the highly respected Mr. Grant that everyone admired.

At our engagement party, a reporter asked, “Mr. Grant, you’ve achieved so much and immediately held this engagement party. You must love your fiancée deeply.”

Hudson Grant answered with certainty, then walked toward me with tender eyes.

But just as I reached out my hand, he turned aside and took the hand of the girl sitting next to me.

“This is Samantha Brooks, the woman I love the most. She’s the one who has been with me every step of the way.”

The room erupted in shocked whispers. Then, standing proudly on stage with Samantha at his side, Hudson’s expression hardened.

“Today, besides introducing the woman I love most, I also want to expose the woman I hate the most.”

Gasps filled the hall.

“She offered me a hand when I was down, but used that kindness to emotionally blackmail me. But today, in front of everyone, I want to declare that Samantha Brooks is the only woman I will ever have.”

As he spoke, the spotlight landed squarely on my face.

I stayed calm and sent out two quick messages on my phone:

[Take every investment for Hudson Grant.]

[I’m breaking up with him. Here’s your chance. Are you marrying me or not?]

Immediately, every reporter swung their cameras toward me.

“Miss, what do you have to say about what Mr. Grant just said?”

“Mr. Grant already has a girlfriend. If you keep clinging to him, doesn't that make you a mistress?”

“What was your mindset coming to this engagement party in the first place, miss?”

My gaze cut through the crowd of reporters and fixed on Hudson.

“Hudson Grant, are you sure you want to do this?” My voice was ice.

Instead of answering, he raised his hand, fingers interlaced with Samantha’s, holding them high for everyone to see.

“What’s with the smugness, Madeline Seymour? You’re just a florist. You couldn’t measure up to Samantha even if you tried. With the whole media here watching, are you still have the nerve to cling to me?”

And then I finally understood.

This was why he had been so insistent about throwing such a grand engagement party, why he had pushed so hard to invite the press. When he first suggested it, I’d refused. I hated the waste and being the spectacle. But Hudson had cupped my hands, his eyes warm with affection.

“I just want the world to know how much I love you, Madeline. Please, can’t you say yes, just this once?”

That so-called “love” of his turned out to be nothing more than a trap. Like a general cutting down his confidant as his first act of war. But Hudson didn’t want to carry the blame, so he came up with this scheme. On the big screen, a montage played—clips of Hudson and Samantha’s love story, from the first spark to their so-called forever. 

So, on the night I drank myself into a stomach bleed for his business deal, he was on a rooftop confessing to Samantha. The night he told me he was too busy with work to celebrate my birthday, he was with Samantha celebrating their 100-day anniversary. Even the late-night garlic crawfish he begged me to cook for him, was for Samantha.

Everyone in the room was mesmerized by their romantic vlog. People sighed in admiration at their “beautiful love.” Only I knew the truth—that his “true love” was nothing but adultery dressed in ribbons. All I ever wanted was to help him succeed.

It was him who confessed first.  He was the one who promised me forever, looking me dead in the eye. I drew a long breath, forcing the bitterness down. Thank God I hadn’t drowned in his poison masquerading as love.

My phone buzzed nonstop in my hand. I could already imagine the online smear against me. Preparing myself, I finally glanced down. The first thing I saw was a string of replies:

[Yes. Of course I’ll marry you. Don’t you dare back out!]

A smile tugged at my lips. But before I could savor it, Hudson’s voice thundered across the hall.

“Why are you grinning?” His eyes narrowed with contempt. “What is it this time—planning to blackmail me again? Thinking about leaking those intimate photos, aren’t you? Well, guess what—everyone already knows you forced me into those, using your father’s debt as leverage.”

Gasps swept through the crowd. Some of the media, sharp enough to see which way the wind blew, began siding with Hudson.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Grant. We’ve been live-streaming this whole time. No matter what she tries, it won’t affect your reputation,” one of them chimed in.

“That’s right. Even if she paid me to leak the photos, I wouldn’t post them,” another added.

Hudson snapped his fingers and one of his assistants came forward with a suitcase. He snatched it, then hurled it at me. It hit my chest before falling to the floor and spilling its guts. 

“You once loaned me fifty grand. Now I’m giving it back tenfold. Take the half a million, shut your mouth and get the hell out of here.”

His last words were like ice. A man who had clawed his way up from nothing—now all he cared about was his pride. I stared at the cash scattered at my feet and laughed. All my life, no one had ever dared try to humiliate me with money.

“Just half a million? What do you take me for, a beggar?”

No sooner had the words left my lips than Samantha Brooks gasped theatrically.

“Just? This woman’s unbelievable. Some people work their whole lives and never scrape together half a million. You own a flower shop, right? Even if you sold every stem in that place, it wouldn’t add up to this.” She clung to Hudson’s arm, her tone turning sugary-sweet. “Hudson, I don’t want her ruining our engagement party.”

In a heartbeat, Hudson ordered a team of guards to throw me out.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll see myself out. ” I yanked free from their grip and turned back to look at Hudson one last time.

“You’ll regret this,” I warned him.

“Regret?” His voice dripped with scorn. “The only regret I have is ever being forced by you into playing this farce!” Then, with his chin tilted arrogantly, he added, “I’m Hudson Grant—respected, admired, the top of the business world. I’ve got the woman I love on my side. Who the hell are you to think you could ever make me regret anything?”

He waved his hand and the guards shoved me toward the exit. When I stepped out of the hotel, the giant screen across the street was broadcasting the moment Hudson slipped a ring onto Samantha’s finger.

That ring was my design—one I’d spent countless sleepless nights perfecting. Hudson had once sneered at the sketches, calling them ugly.

Yet here he was, using it to propose to his mistress.

Before I could even process the sting of betrayal, a crowd swarmed me. They hurled whatever they had in their hands—cups, bags, trash—straight at me.

“You’re that manipulative bitch who tried to guilt-trip Hudson into marrying you, aren’t you?” One girl spat.

“Mr. Grant has found the love of his life. If you dare crawl back to him again, we’ll destroy you!” Another shouted.

Back when I first tried to build up Hudson’s reputation, I used his good looks to market him online. It worked. Too well, in fact—now it had all backfired on me.

I thought of pulling out old photos to defend myself, but then remembered Hudson had already set the stage to smear me first.

Smart of him, I supposed. Everything I had taught him, he learned well. I always knew he was sharp, calculating. But of all the things he could’ve used his cunning for, he used it against me.

Just then, a limited-edition sports car cut through the crowd. Under envious stares, I slipped inside.

I was still brushing dirt off my clothes when my phone rang. Hudson.

“Don’t blame me for being cruel, Madeline. If I didn’t do this, you’d never let me go. Samantha—she’s different from you. She’s sweet, obedient. I knew she was the one the second I saw her.

“As for you…” his voice dropped to a sleazy drawl. “If you insist on sticking around, I don’t mind keeping you as my mistress. But the rule is—you stay out of Samantha’s sight.”

If not for the driver’s expression twisting in shock, I might’ve thought I’d misheard out of sheer fury. How could he stab me in the back and then have the nerve to offer me the role of his mistress?

“Are you out of your damn mind?” I snapped. “That shiny chair you’re so proud of isn’t even warm yet and you already dare to talk like this?”

I didn’t give him a chance to answer—I hung up.

But when I got home, he was already there, blocking my way inside. The cheap scent of gardenias clung to him.

“Stop being difficult, Madison. Half a million is more than enough. I’ll even add another hundred grand.” 

He spoke as if he was doing me a huge favor. Meanwhile, the last deal I’d secured for him had brought in far more than that.

He caught the fire in my eyes and completely misunderstood. Grabbing my hand, his voice dropped into a husky whisper.

“What, you actually want to be my mistress? Fine, let’s call today my mistake. I should’ve warned you first. Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his fingers trailing over my waist, slipping under my clothes without shame.

“You’re disgusting you know that?” My hand flew before I even realized it. The crack of the slap echoed sharp and merciless.

His head snapped to the side, eyes blazing with fury as he reeled from the blow.

“Madeline Seymour! Do you know how many people would kill for the chance I’m giving you? You should be grateful I even bothered with you. You’re always so damn overbearing. If it weren’t for the fact you once helped me, I’d never have tolerated being with you. Samantha, at least, is gentle. Sweet. Nothing like you.”

And as if the devil had staged it, right then his phone rang. Samantha Brooks.

Hudson made sure to tilt his screen toward me before answering the call.

“Huddy, where’d you go? I’m craving that viral cake shop on the west side of town. Can you pick some up for me?”

Just like he’d said before, Samantha’s voice was so syrupy-sweet it almost dripped honey.

But that didn’t excuse his cheating.

The west side was over twenty-five miles from here. Yet Hudson agreed without a second thought.

Funny. When I was sick from drinking once and begged him to grab me some aspirin from the pharmacy downstairs, he told me to tough it out.

Watching him walk away, I didn’t even bother going inside. Instead, I put the house up for rent online and drove straight to my family’s old estate.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a phone call.

On the other end, one of the young clerks at my flower shop was practically crying.

“Boss, the shop’s surrounded! A whole group showed up—smashing things, saying you’re just a gold-digger trying to latch onto someone rich, like you’re way out of your league.”

The sound of shattering porcelain cracked through the line.

I hung up and rushed over.

The moment I arrived, I saw Samantha herself lounging in a chair, blowing on her freshly painted nails, while her crew tore the shop apart.

“Stop! All of you, stop!” 

At the sound of my voice, everyone froze.

“Well, look who finally showed,” Samantha rose slowly, a smug smile tugging at her lips. “I asked for a bouquet and your clerk sold me wilted flowers. How do you explain that?”

The girl beside me shook her head through red, tear-streaked cheeks. I knew the truth instantly and shielded her behind me.

“Miss Brooks, our shop never sells old stock. Our reputation speaks for itself.”

“Is that so?” Her eyes swept over me, sharp and mocking. “Then why is someone like you shamelessly trying to steal my man? Have you even looked at your face? You’re practically covered in wrinkles.”

I’d never been insecure about my looks and I wasn’t about to start now. Her words bounced right off me. Pulling out my calculator, I tallied up the damages in seconds and held the screen up for her to see.

“Miss Brooks, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you’re responsible for the damage. Either pay up, or I’ll call the police.”

Her eyes bulged at the figure. Well, they’re over a hundred grand.

“Are you insane? There’s no way all this junk box worth that much. I haven’t even demanded back the half-million and now you’re trying to scam me?”

So that was it. Today’s stunt was just her way of clawing back the money. I plastered on a polite smile.

“I never touched the money. You can confirm that with Hudson. As for these vases—each one’s a master’s work. I’ve already given you the discounted price.” I tilted my head. “Or is it that you simply can’t afford it, Miss Brooks?”

Her face flushed crimson. She whipped out her phone and called Hudson. Minutes later, he stormed in. Without a single question, his hand shot up—ready to slap me. 

I caught his wrist just in time, but he shoved me instead. I crashed to the floor, shards of porcelain slicing into my hands.

“Madeline Seymour, will you ever quit? If you’ve got a problem, take it out on me. Why are you picking on Samantha?”

He didn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead, he barked at the mob to keep wrecking my shop. The young clerk tried to stop them, only to be shoved to the ground herself, bruises blooming instantly across her skin.

Hudson’s designer shoes crushed the flowers at my feet as he looked down at me with contempt.

“This is about money, isn’t it? I’ll give you money. But now this shop—this shop is mine now.”

Then, pulling Samantha close, he kissed her cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby. It’s just a bit of pocket change. Break whatever you want—your man’s got the bill covered.”

Then, right there in front of me, Hudson kissed her cheek and strutted out with her on his arm.