Chapter 1
Aria's POV:
The crash of shattering glass silenced the private dining room for a beat.
Christopher Hernandez glanced down at my feet, reached out and tugged me half a step away. There was concern in his voice, but his principles still came first.
"Make sure you don't step on the broken glass. The hotel will charge us for the cleanup, and you're covering half of it."
I pulled my hand out of his grip and sent a message in the wedding group chat.
Aria: Tomorrow's wedding is canceled. For any cancellation fees I incur, contact me directly.
The wedding planner called right away.
"Ms. Scott, the stage is already fully set up. If we cancel now, we're looking at a minimum loss of $36,000."
"My half is $18,000. I'll transfer that to you tonight."
Christopher put his hand over my phone screen. "Are you done throwing this tantrum?"
"I'm not throwing a tantrum. The wedding's off."
He fixed me with a hard stare, his voice dropping low. "Is this all over that $100,000 gift?"
"It's because I finally realized. You're always so generous to your female friends, but that 'fairness' you love to talk about? It only ever applies to me."
Layla Flores hurried to her feet.
"Aria, don't get the wrong idea. Christopher just doesn't want people thinking the Hernandez family is taking advantage of anyone. I can even skip the wedding tomorrow if that helps."
Christopher pushed her back into her chair.
"This has nothing to do with you. Her mom's in the hospital, so she's just emotionally unstable."
His buddies immediately jumped in to smooth things over.
"Come on, Aria, we were all just joking around. Christopher's treated you so well all these years. Being clear about money is just him looking out for both of you."
"Yeah, exactly. How many men play dumb about money after they get married? At least Christopher isn't taking advantage of you."
I pulled up the expense-splitting group chat we'd made specifically to track expenses, and sent over my share of the pre-wedding party.
"The drinks came to $6,200 total. I didn't drink, so I'm only covering my share of the food and the private dining room. I already checked the details, so I'm transferring you $1,743."
Christopher's face clouded over.
"Aria Scott, do you really have to air our finances in front of everyone?"
"Aren't you the one who always says principles don't get special treatment just because of feelings?" I slipped off my engagement ring and set it down on the table. "The ring cost $98,000, so that's $49,000 apiece. You keep it. Just transfer my share back to me."
He didn't touch it.
"We got our marriage certificate seven days ago, and both our families' elders are showing up tomorrow. If you cancel now, do you want everyone laughing at the Hernandez family?"
"Even if we have the certificate, we're getting a divorce."
Christopher finally seized my wrist.
He didn't grip hard, and his fingertips even avoided the cut the glass had left on my hand.
"I'm the one who pulled strings to get your mother, Gianna, that specialist consultation. You're throwing a fit right now. Do you still want her to get follow-up treatment?"
I looked at him. "I paid for that consultation myself."
"Without the Hernandez family's connections, you could've paid all the money in the world and still not gotten that appointment."
"Then I won't trouble you."
I wrenched my wrist free and added the wedding planner, the hotel contact, and the dressmaker to a temporary group chat one after another.
Christopher laughed.
"You can't bring yourself to leave.
"Five years ago, my dad didn't approve of us, and you begged outside the Hernandez estate for three whole days just to get a single meeting with him. Now we've finally made it to the altar, and you've spent six months planning this wedding. How could you ever bear to walk away?"
He said it with such certainty.
As if all the suffering I'd gone through for him would become a lock holding me in place.
Layla pushed the ring across the table toward him.
"Christopher, put it away for now. Once Aria cools down tomorrow, she'll be begging you to put it back on her finger."
I grabbed my bag.
Christopher called after me, his tone sharp and matter-of-fact.
"The car will pick you up at 8 a.m. tomorrow. You can be a little late, but don't dare no-show. Your jewelry collection, Everwith, is launching at the wedding at the same time. The company can't afford your tantrum."
That jewelry collection was my design, and to this day I hadn't been paid a single cent for it.
I paused in the doorway and sent an email to the company's legal department:
As of 12:00 a.m. today, Hernandez Group is hereby prohibited from using any of my design drafts without compensation.
Once the email was sent, I looked back at Christopher.
"Since we've broken up, your company doesn't get to use my designs anymore. And you can find someone else to take the bride's place."
Christopher didn't chase after me.
When I reached the elevator lobby, I heard him giving instructions to the wedding planner.
"Keep the whole schedule as is. She'll be back tomorrow morning.
"Layla, go try on tomorrow's dress in her place first."
The elevator doors closed slowly.
Layla had already picked up my veil.
