“He’s a serial manipulator,” Caleb said, his voice tight with anger. “He targets women with money. Rowan has your name, your connections. He’s using her.”
I stood there in stunned silence, replaying my brief marriage to Arthur in my mind.
Before our wedding, I had insisted on a prenup—not because I distrusted him, but because I’d learned the hard way what money could complicate. He hesitated, saying it made things feel unromantic.
I looked him in the eye and told him, “If this is love, a piece of paper won’t scare you.”
He signed it.
But his smile never quite reached his eyes—and not long after, everything began to change.
Caleb reached for my hand. “He’s still tied up in litigation, and he never told Rowan any of this,” he said quietly. “We have to tell her.”
“But she won’t believe it if it comes from us,” I replied, my voice cracking. “Not privately—especially not while he still has control.”
He met my gaze. “Then we don’t do it in private.”
And that was when the plan took shape.
“Then we make it public.”
Inside, the reception was in full celebration mode. Candlelight bathed the room in a golden glow. Laughter rose above the music as guests clinked glasses and posed in front of the flower wall. Rowan looked luminous in her ivory gown, seated beside Arthur, who played the part of the proud groom perfectly. The contrast was unreal.
Everyone was celebrating—
and yet my heart was hammering like an alarm.
