Wedding Day Betrayal? Watch Me Take His Empire, Not Just His Heart! Novel – On our wedding day, Quinton Ashford livestreamed his heartfelt confession to millions: “Happy wedding day, wifey.” The next second, he ripped off my veil with a cruel smirk plastered across his face: “Happy DIVORCE, Ember.” My tears of joy froze on my cheeks. The entire venue erupted in laughter.
As I stood there, completely blindsided, he pulled his secretary—dressed head to toe in bridal white—into his arms and said to me: “If you hadn’t thrown that tantrum last week and fought her over that necklace, I wouldn’t have to do this to you. “When you finally apologize and she forgives you? Then MAYBE I’ll actually marry you.” But he’d forgotten one crucial detail—that necklace was my mother’s heirloom. The only thing I had left of her.
I became the internet’s punching bag overnight. Meanwhile, Quinton and his secretary’s “relationship” went viral, with shippers going absolutely feral. After he’d finished gallivanting around the world with her for three months, he asked casually: “So, has she apologized yet?” “Sir… Miss Ember’s… already married.” … “Uncle, HE’s the one who didn’t want to have this marriage.” The study was dimly lit when I walked in. Quinton’s father sat slumped at his desk, every wrinkle on his face carved deep with disappointment.
He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head: “I really thought… with our families being so close all these years, that maybe our kids could also… “But forget it. Just forget it. “I guess you can’t force people to love each other, can you?” Then he slid the marriage contract across the desk toward me, the word VOID stamped across it in bold red letters. A blank check followed right behind it: “Go ahead and leave, sweetheart. Write in whatever number you want on that check.” I walked out. And left the check behind.
Look, our families had history—the kind where arranging an engagement between Quinton and me actually made sense. Sure, there was the whole “good match on paper” thing, the business alliance aspect. But here’s the thing—aside from Quinton being a complete ass? His family had actually been decent to me. I wasn’t about to take their money on top of everything else. As I stepped out of the villa into the blazing afternoon heat, I couldn’t help but remember the first time I met Quinton. It had been another scorching summer day just like this one.
He’d seemed so untouchable back then, like something out of a movie. I fell hard and fast. But he’d just looked me up and down with this cold, disgusted sneer: “Pretty enough, I guess. But here’s some advice—don’t go reaching for things that’ll never be yours.” Naive me? I thought he was talking about the family money. Turns out he meant his heart. So I spent three whole years trying to prove I wasn’t some gold-digging opportunist. And then Vivette Thorne came back from her year abroad, and he practically tripped over himself hiring her as his personal secretary.
That’s when reality finally smacked me in the face—he’d been warning me off from day one. Still, I held on. Clung to that stupid engagement contract like my life depended on it, unable to accept that I’d wasted three years for nothing. But now? I ripped that contract to shreds and tossed it in the nearest trash can without a second thought. My phone buzzed. A new text: [I’m leaving town soon. If you’re really sure you won’t say yes to me, then this is it. We’ll never see each other again.] My fingers moved: [I’ll do it.] Less than a minute later, my phone rang.
“You’re not just doing this to piss him off, right?” “I swear on my mother’s grave—I’m dead serious.” I could hear him take several sharp breaths on the other end, like he was trying to process what I’d just agreed to. Finally, his voice came through, quiet but steady: “I’ll treat you right. I promise.” I smiled despite everything. Coming from this man? That WAS the biggest romantic declaration he was capable of. Chapter 2 The plane ticket came through within the hour. Departure: tonight. I headed back to the villa to pack my things.
But the second I pushed open the door, I found Quinton waiting for me—which was weird as hell since he was NEVER home. “So? Made up your mind yet?” His voice cut through the darkness, ice-cold: “You gonna give her that necklace or not?” My hand flew up instinctively, clutching the necklace at my throat. “Vivette grew up with nothing, you know. She only started getting nice things these past couple years. “She doesn’t hold it against you that you basically stole the life that should’ve been hers. All she wants is ONE necklace.
What, that’s too much to ask? You really THAT greedy?” He descended the stairs and leaned in close, his face inches from mine: “Or do you WANT me to actually call off this engagement for good?” That used to be his ultimate threat—the one thing that could make me cave every single time. I used to feel so dam