The Wedding That Never Was Novel – My fiancé wanted to secure his position as the company’s top stakeholder, so he asked me to step back from the leadership race and hand over my share of the family interests, promising me a wedding to remember in return. I agreed, but the next day, I saw his beloved Janet Sheppard publicly share an official-looking document—signed by him. I was stunned for a moment, then casually commented, “We’ve already received the betrothal gifts, so when’s the wedding banquet?” Janet broke down emotionally and threatened to harm herself.
To appease her, my fiancé demanded I delete my comment, publicly apologize to Janet. My colleagues whispered and waited to see me humiliated. But I didn’t back down—I apologized publicly and even handed over my current project to Janet. My fiancé was pleased, calling me “understanding,” and promised, “At our wedding in two weeks, you’ll be the star—and afterward, a honeymoon around the world.” What he didn’t realize was, from the moment he reclaimed those interests, the wedding was already over. …… The apology statement had just gone live, and within three minutes, the comments section exploded—99 messages in an instant.
Janet wasted no time mocking me in private: “Tamara Ruiz, other than meeting Peyton earlier and having slightly better luck, what do you really have to compare with me?” “All I had to do was cry to him, and he immediately made you apologize to me.” “Even if you’re engaged, it doesn’t matter. As long as I say no, you’re never walking down that aisle.” Then she smugly sent a screenshot of a plane ticket to Whaica—her fiancé was taking her on a relaxing getaway. Just as I was about to turn off my screen, a new notification lit up from the comment section. It was Janet again: “Don’t say that about Ms. Ruiz, I also made a mistake…” Barely a minute passed before Peyton replied beneath it: “Don’t blame yourself.
This is clearly Tamara’s fault.” The comment thread grew vicious. Colleagues jumped in, criticizing me, saying my so-called “apology” was actually full of sarcasm and resentment toward Janet. Someone tagged me, but I ignored it. Shortly after, my phone began to ring. Repeated calls—from Peyton—demanding an explanation. I didn’t answer. I knew exactly what he’d say. Peyton had always been indulgent with Janet, to the point of blindness. So I calmly shut off my phone, silencing the buzzing. Peyton Maxwell and I had been engaged since childhood.
As part of the arrangement, some of the Maxwell Group’s control had been pledged as dowry, securing my formal entry into the Maxwell family. But ever since Janet—the woman he now openly favored—arrived at the company, all of Peyton’s attention had shifted. No matter what Janet wanted, Peyton gave it to her without hesitation. Even if that meant turning my months-long project into a gift, just to brighten her mood. Not long after, my fiancé suddenly returned. The moment he stepped in, he didn’t even greet me—he simply asked me to help pack a few changes of clothes. He was going on a business trip.
I couldn’t help recalling the two plane tickets to Whaica that Janet had sent us earlier. My voice turned cold as I asked sarcastically, “Business trip? Or vacation?” He immediately picked up on the dissatisfaction in my tone. Assuming I was still sulking over the public apology to Janet, he frowned and said, “You really have the nerve to be angry? That was your fault to begin with. If I hadn’t stepped in, your colleagues would’ve voted you out of the company by now.” He paused for a second, then added in a self-important tone, “This is a key project for the company. I must go in person.
Don’t worry—I’ll be back before the wedding. Nothing will delay our date.” Seeing I didn’t respond, he assumed I had finally “understood his good intentions” and let the matter go. He took the opportunity to ask me what I wanted him to bring back. Every time Peyton went on a business trip, he would bring me some so-called ‘local specialty.’ I used to be thrilled by these tokens—until I learned the truth. Each one was actually something Janet didn’t want. What I cherished had always been her leftovers. Thinking of that, I simply replied, “Whatever.” He noticed I wasn’t in the mood, so he casually asked the housemaid to help him finish packing. Then, Tyrone, our long-time butler, brought over a delicate gift box.
Peyton handed it to me with a slip of paper and said, “This is a token of appreciation for the achievement you contributed. Consider it your reward.” I glanced at the box. Inside was a jade-green bracelet, the kind of antique piece that once made headlines at auctions. It was exquisite, rare—and I had seen it on Janet’s wrist just a few days ago. A few days ago, I had noticed that Janet was wearing the same bracelet Peyton just gave me. So, was this fake bracelet just a placation? He saw me smile and assumed I was pleased wit