Chapter 2

The minute I got home, I stripped off that ridiculously expensive wedding dress and shoved it directly into the trash can.

My parents arrived shortly after. The moment my mom stepped through the door, she wrapped her arms around me, tears streaming down her face.

"My poor baby, how could you just walk away like that?! That scumbag and his little mistress got off way too easy!"

My dad paced across the room, his face dark with fury.

"That ungrateful bastard Austin! How dare he humiliate our family like this after everything we've done for him!"

I calmly handed my mom a tissue. "Mom, he isn't worth your tears."

"Throw out the wedding photos, the invites, everything related to today. Clear it all."

My icy calm caught them off guard.

Dabbing her eyes, Mom stared at me with worry. "Sienna, you're scaring me. Are you in shock?"

I shook my head, walked into my study, and fired up my laptop.

The drama had already set our high-society circle ablaze.

On social media, countless versions of "the truth" were spreading like wildfire.

Most of the comments shamelessly took Austin and Chloe's side.

"Did you hear? Austin Miller left his own bride at the altar for his childhood sweetheart who just survived a crash!"

"OMG, true love really exists!"

"Chloe is so pitiful, all alone in the world. Thank god Austin was there for her."

"Honestly, the bride overreacted. He apologized, yet she canceled the whole wedding right then and there."

"She didn't give him any face in public. No wonder she couldn't keep him."

Right on time, Chloe posted a photo on her Ins account: a hospital billing receipt, captioned:

Thank you for always being here for me.

Austin's comment sat pinned right at the very top: Silly girl, I'll always have your back.

Within a few short hours, they had successfully painted themselves as tragic star-crossed lovers.

Meanwhile, I was framed as the bitter, petty, heartless ex-fiancée who got dumped and totally deserved it.

My phone blew up with incoming calls. Some friends offered genuine sympathy, while fake mutual friends texted me, urging me to "be the bigger person."

Then, Austin's name flashed on my screen.

I answered.

His voice dripped with annoyed impatience.

"Sienna, are you done throwing your fit?"

"I told you I was just taking Chloe to the ER. Did you really have to humiliate me in front of hundreds of people?"

"Now our entire city is laughing at our families!"

I chuckled at his twisted logic. "Austin, did Chloe's crash give you brain damage?"

"Take a good look around. Who's the one everyone is laughing at?"

"You—!" He choked for a second, then doubled down aggressively.

"Whatever! Come to my office tomorrow so we can talk like adults."

"I'll handle Chloe's situation, but we aren't calling off our relationship."

"You know as well as I do that without me, you are nothing."

"Is that so?" I replied coldly.

"Stop acting tough, Sienna," he sneered, confident he held all the cards.

"Every single luxury you wear, every meal you eat—who paid for it? Me."

"The penthouse you live in, the sports car you drive—everything is under my name."

"Without me, you wouldn't last a single month out on the street. So behave yourself and stop playing games."

With that, he hung up, eager to run back to his damsel in distress.

Holding my phone, I gazed out the window at the dazzling city skyline below.

He was right about one thing. For the past three years, I had lived in the shadows, letting him treat me like a kept woman.

It was a deal we made back then, all to stroke his pathetic, fragile ego.

I had stepped backstage so he could shine brightly as the hotshot billionaire heir.

He genuinely believed I was just a pampered trophy girl who couldn't survive a single second without him.

Glancing down at the picture of him and Chloe at the hospital, I scrolled through endless comments praising their "epic romance."

A cold chuckle escaped my lips.

For the past three years, I thought taking a backseat was doing him a favor. Only today did I finally see the truth clearly.

In his eyes, I was merely a replaceable ornament.

Since he had the audacity to claim I was nothing without him, fine.

Let's see who ends up with nothing once I drop the act.

Closing the app, I paused for a beat over my contact list before dialing my attorney, Marcus Vance.

"Marcus," I said quietly, "the contracts and the evidence trail we prepared? It's time to pull the trigger."