Nobody Dare Dumps This Curvy B*tch

Chapter 3

Nathan

I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the private restroom of Le Cirque restaurant, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high stained-glass window, reflecting off the polished marble sink.

I pulled my secondary phone from my inner pocket, set it on the edge of the counter, and tapped the record button. I cleared my throat, dragging a deep breath into my lungs, and practiced under my breath, my voice low, careful, and rehearsed.

“Lina, we’ve been together for almost a year now, and you’re the only woman I want by my side for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

“You got this, man,” a stranger washing his hands offered with a warm, encouraging smile as he walked toward the door. “She’s a lucky woman.”

I forced a tight, polite nod. Once the door clicked shut, I reached into the breast pocket of my charcoal blazer and pulled out the small red velvet box. I flicked it open. The overhead light caught the three-carat, flawless, oval-cut diamond, throwing back brilliant sparks of color. A quiet fortune—spent without telling a single soul, not even my family.

I snapped the box shut, slid it back into my pocket, smoothed down the lapels of my tailored suit, and ran a hand through my dark hair. I pulled my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and walked out of the restroom toward our reservation by the window. I was ready to ask my girlfriend to be my wife.

I never reached the table.

Her voice drifted around the high marble pillar—light, sweet, and utterly poisonous.

“He is such a sweet dummy, isn’t he? So utterly foolish to think I actually have feelings for him.”

Lina laughed. It was a sharp, tinkling sound—the exact same laugh I had fallen in love with months ago—and it sliced through my chest like a cold blade. I stepped behind the shadow of the pillar, my leather shoes making no sound against the thick carpet.

“Oh, please,” Lina continued, rolling her shoulders as she swirled the white wine in her glass. “He brought me to this ridiculously overpriced restaurant just to recite another stupid love speech. Only God knows what quote he’s rehearsing in the bathroom right now. Silly man. All I ever wanted was access to his black card so I could keep living the lifestyle I deserve. All this romance bullshit is none of my business.”

Another laugh followed—louder this time, completely unbothered.

My hands curled into tight fists at my sides, my knuckles turning stark white until my nails bit into my palms. Something deep inside my chest cracked open—a sudden, sharp fracture—and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears.

I turned on my heel and walked out. My steps stayed soft on the polished marble floor, controlled and quiet, even though every bone in my body felt shattered.

The heavy glass double doors swept shut behind me, and the warm, muggy afternoon air of Manhattan hit my face like a physical slap. New York didn't care. The city never pauses for anger or heartbreak. Yellow cabs zoomed past under the bright sky while the sunlight stayed sharp and indifferent.

I just walked. My tie felt like a tourniquet around my neck. Every step carried the crushing weight of the velvet box against my ribs and the echo of her laughter in my ears.

My primary phone buzzed violently in my hand. My executive assistant’s name lit the screen.

I swiped to answer. “Speak.”

“Sir, a quick reminder that Joel’s wedding is scheduled for three o’clock at St. Michael’s,” she said, her voice crisp. “Your aunt has called twice asking if you’ll be arriving with Miss Lina.”

“Right,” I said, my voice low and hollow. “What time is it now?”

“2:25 p.m., sir.”

“I’m on my way.”

I hung up, flagged down a yellow cab crawling along the curb, and slid into the back seat. “St. Michael’s Church on 54th,” I told the driver.

As the cab pulled into traffic, I pulled out my secondary phone and realized I hadn’t pressed the cut button before stepping out of the restroom earlier.

The entire recording was sitting there—clear, crisp, and devastating. Every mocking sentence. Every cruel laugh. Every explicit admission that my wealth was the only thing holding her interest.

Ten minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of the grand stone steps of St. Michael’s. I paid the driver, stepped out onto the sunlit pavement, and adjusted my blazer. Guests were already arriving in luxury cars, mingling near the entrance.

Just as I reached the bottom step, my primary phone vibrated. Lina.

I stared at her name flashing on the screen for three long seconds before swiping to answer.

“Where the hell did you run off to?!” Her voice came roaring through the speaker, sharp and demanding. “I’ve been waiting at the table for fifteen minutes! Where are you?”

I didn't utter a single word. Instead, I brought my secondary phone up to the microphone, turned the volume to maximum, and pressed play.

Her own recorded voice poured into the line: “All I ever wanted was access to his black card... All this romance bullshit is none of my business.”

Lina’s angry rant cut off mid-word. A suffocating silence stretched across the call.

“Nath—I mean, babe!” Her tone flipped in an instant, turning thin and panicky. “I promise you, it’s not what you think! I was just messing around with my friend—!”

I still said nothing. I just stood under the glaring sun, listening to her scramble for lies.

“Babe, please come back,” she pleaded, her voice shrinking. “Let’s just talk about—”

“I will pay you one thousand dollars in cash right now if you walk into that church and pretend to be my fiancé for the next hour.”

The clear, desperate voice cut straight through the noise of the street, making my hand freeze.

I went dead still. I lowered the phone from my ear—leaving Lina’s frantic excuses blaring into the empty air—and slowly turned around.

The breath was pulled right out of my lungs.

It was her. The blonde woman from the boutique fitting lounge two days ago.

She stood on the sunlit pavement in that same devastating crimson dress that clung to every soft, magnificent curve of her body. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulders in thick waves, and her dark eyes flashed with a potent mixture of fierce defiance and absolute terror.

My gaze dragged hopelessly down the deep plunge of her neckline before resting on her face. The sting of Lina’s betrayal was instantly overridden by the electric impact of the woman standing before me.

“Hello? Babe, are you there?!” Lina’s voice buzzed faintly from my receiver.

I reached down and ended the call on Lina mid-sentence, slipping both phones into my inner jacket pocket.

The girl in the red dress raised one golden eyebrow, her jaw set, waiting. "Well?"

A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"One thousand?" I stepped closer to her, my voice dropping into a low, velvet rasp. "You must really hate whoever is inside that church, sweetheart."

Her chest heaved under the tight silk, her chin lifting in challenge. "Are you in, or do I find someone else?"

I didn't hesitate. I closed the remaining distance between us, stepped up beside her, and offered her the crook of my arm.

"Lead the way, fiancée."