From Broken Bride to Tycoon's Trophy Wife

Chapter 3

On our tenth anniversary, Nolan pulled the same card,

"Business trip."

Classic.

But that night, something felt… off. I was sitting alone in our apartment, staring at the blank TV screen, when a video call popped up on my phone.

Wendy.

I almost didn't answer. But curiosity got the better of me.

The moment I picked up, the screen filled with bright lights, laughter, and champagne toasts. A wedding venue.

And then I saw him.

Nolan. Standing at the altar. Holding Wendy's hand.

My stomach dropped. My ears started ringing.

Three months ago, Wendy had posted something on Instagram, an aesthetic black-and-white photo of an IV drip and a caption that read:

"If I could have one last wish, I'd want a wedding with the person I love most."

I hadn't thought much of it back then. I even commented under the post:

"Who's the lucky guy?"

Wendy replied, cryptic as ever:

"You'll find out soon enough."

Well. I found out.

My hands were shaking as I called Nolan. Again and again.

Not a single call went through.

While I was curled up on our bed, crying myself into unconsciousness, he was spending the so-called "happiest night of his life" with her.

But I wasn't going to let them win. Not this time.

When I got back to Harbor City, Wendy called me.

Her tone was sweet, almost innocent.

"Lily… I'm really sorry. I didn't know we'd run into you like that today."

I didn't answer. I didn't have to.

She kept going, with this fake little sigh.

"Mrs. Wilson was so kind to me. She treated me like I was already part of the family… They even said they'd help me find the best specialists for my illness."

She paused for dramatic effect.

Then, voice dripping with envy, she asked:

"Lily, why can't I be the one to marry into the Wilson family?"

I almost laughed.

Of course she could, if she could outmatch me in everything.

So I said, calm and razor-sharp,

"Well then, congrats in advance. Hope you two grow old and miserable together."

Then I hung up.

I was about to block her entirely, wipe her out of my digital life, when I accidentally tapped into her Instagram page.

What I saw made my blood boil.

She'd entered a high-profile art competition.

With my design draft.

The one I'd drawn for Nolan's birthday last year. A private sketch. A personal gift.

He'd kept it.

He'd shown it to her.

And now she was parading it around like it was hers.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breathing. My vision blurred from rage.

Then I pulled open my drawer, grabbed the copyright certificate I'd filed months ago, and submitted a plagiarism report to the contest site.

Let them deal with her.

Just as I finished hitting "submit," my phone rang again. It was Charlotte, my business partner, and a friend from college. Also a mutual with Wendy, though they never got along.

"Lily, what's going on? You pulled your investment out of the studio without saying anything!"

I exhaled. Then told her everything. Every messy, humiliating, soul-crushing detail.

At the end, I added quietly,

"I'm getting married soon."

There was a beat of silence. And then Charlotte exploded.

"That bitch! So just because she's sick, she thinks she can steal someone else's fiancé? And everyone's supposed to feel sorry for her?"

"I swear to God, is she even really dying or just faking it for clout? I'm gonna call her and rip her a new one!"

I smiled for the first time in days.

"Don't bother. She's not worth it. I've got more important things to focus on now."

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me.

And then, his voice.

"Wedding? What wedding?"

It was Nolan.

I didn't even flinch.

I hung up the phone.

When I turned around, Nolan was standing there, looking a little uneasy.

That's when a thought struck me.

Something mean.

Something true.

"I just heard this juicy piece of gossip," I said casually, walking past him toward the couch. "About a guy who secretly threw a wedding with another woman behind his girlfriend's back."

I glanced at him, smiling slightly. "My friend said the guy's a real piece of work. Trash, really. And she felt sorry for the girlfriend, poor thing still thought she was his one and only."

Nolan's face twisted.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped, like I'd personally insulted him.

"How does anyone know what he was going through? What if, what if the wedding was fake? Just something he did to give a dying patient her last wish?"

Oh wow. The audacity.

I let out a soft laugh.

Ten years. Ten whole years of loving him…

All for this.

He must've noticed my silence, or the look on my face, because he stepped closer and pulled me into a hug.

"Lily, what's going on with you lately?" he whispered, holding me tightly. "We've been together for so long. Don't you know how much I love you?"

He brushed my hair behind my ear, his voice turning coaxing.

"Once things settle with Wendy, we'll get married. I promise, okay?"

As he spoke, his hand slid beneath the hem of my shirt, moving lower with practiced ease.

I turned my face away, catching his wrist before he could go any further.

"Sorry," I said coldly. "I'm not in the mood."

Nolan froze, searching my face like he couldn't figure out what the hell had changed.

Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh and stepped back.

"I'll sleep in the study."

I didn't say a word.

Later that night, just as I was drifting off, I heard the front door open and close in a hurry.

Nolan had left.

I didn't bother checking where he went.

The next morning, as soon as I opened the bedroom door, there he was, sitting on the couch like he hadn't moved all night.

I raised an eyebrow. "Up early?"

Nolan didn't bother hiding his irritation. His eyes were sharp, voice sharper.

"Why did you report Wendy for plagiarism?"

My smile faded.

"Do you have any idea how much that hurt her?" he demanded.

There it was.

Not are you okay?

Not did she really steal your work?

Just pure, unfiltered rage on her behalf.

And with that one question, any lingering trace of love I might've had for him?

Gone.