l Caught Them Cheating On My Honeymoon

Chapter 3

The more I dug, the colder I felt.

Our joint account had contained almost three million, the savings I had put away over the years for our wedding and my future business. Every last bit of it had ended up in a developer's account for a new property.

He had used the money to buy a villa in full, two million one hundred thousand. The owner listed on the deed was Camille Vance.

I stared at the property records and let out a cold laugh.

My hard-earned money, spent on a luxury home for his mistress, and the whole time he had been telling me he was working himself to the bone for our future.

'Grant, you really are something else.'

That weekend, both sets of parents gathered at a hotel restaurant to go over the wedding details.

Camille was there too, naturally, as my closest friend and designated bridesmaid.

We were well into the meal, my mother happily discussing the engagement dinner menu with Grant's mother, when Camille's face suddenly went pale across the table. She pressed a hand to her mouth and gagged.

The sound was quiet, but it killed the conversation instantly.

Grant's fork clattered to the floor.

He shot up out of his chair like he had been electrocuted and rushed to her side.

"Hey, what's wrong? Is it that stomach thing again?"

His face was ashen. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, picked up her water glass and held it to her lips, and with his other hand he began rubbing her back in slow, practiced circles.

The whole thing was so smooth, so effortless. Not once had he ever doted on me like that, and I was supposed to be his fiancée.

The table went dead quiet.

Our parents looked at each other, the temperature dropping fast. My mother's expression had already turned hard, her eyes locked on Grant's hand resting on Camille's shoulder.

He must have felt the silence closing in because his hand froze.

He yanked it back and forced out a dry laugh.

"That, uh, Camille's stomach has been acting up lately. Lucia's told me so many times how hard it was for her living alone and asked me to look out for her."

He shot me a desperate look, begging me to cover for him.

Camille slumped weakly against the back of her chair, eyes red and pitiful, looking at me like a wounded animal.

I watched their pathetic little performance without feeling a thing. A soft smile settled on my face.

I stood up, walked over to Camille, and patted her back gently.

"Yes, don't get the wrong idea. Camille just has a sensitive stomach."

I turned to reassure both sets of parents. "Grant was only being kind. He has always been the helpful type."

The dinner ended in an atmosphere that was strangely, almost painfully, pleasant.

After we saw the parents off, Grant let out a huge breath. He took my hand, his voice thick with gratitude.

"Lucia, thank you for saying something back there. I was terrified your parents would get the wrong idea."

I pulled my hand free and smoothed his collar.

"Don't be silly. We're about to get married. If I don't trust you, who do I trust?"

He smiled with relief and leaned in to kiss me.

I turned my head away, made an excuse about getting the car, and avoided his touch.

Camille had been pregnant for a while.

It was the baby that had pushed Grant to rush out and buy her that property with the money he had taken.

That night, after Grant had showered and gone to bed, I went to the study alone and locked the door.

I opened my laptop and contacted my personal lawyer that very night.

I wanted to settle, in the shortest time possible, every cent I had invested in Grant's company over the past three years.

And I wanted a legally binding withdrawal agreement and debt repayment demand drafted.

I wanted him to choke on his own betrayal, to pay for every choice he had made.