Chapter 1
The day before our wedding, my fiancé, Lance Turner, went to steal another woman from her wedding.
He pulled Stacey Reed, the woman he could never get over, right off her wedding carriage and swore to marry her on the spot.
My whole family and I became the biggest joke in the city.
He sent word that Stacey was soft and fragile, and that I should swallow my pride and be his mistress.
The next day, Isaac Robinson, the spoiled noble heir whom Stacey was supposed to marry, climbed over my wall.
He blocked my door and demanded that I give him back a wife.
I nodded and said yes.
His face turned red. That same night, he had his servants haul over a mountain of lavish engagement gifts.
Later, Lance groveled in the rain, his eyes red, begging me to just look at him.
My so‑called playboy husband, Isaac, kicked him to the ground. "Get lost. Don't dirty my wife's eyes."
*****
"Celine, Stacey's health is fragile. She can't handle any stress. So just bear with it for now and be my mistress." Lance stood in front of me and said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I looked at this man I'd been engaged to for three years. I found it ridiculous.
Yesterday was Stacey's wedding day. Lance stopped the procession all by himself. He pulled her out of the carriage. Right there in the street, he swore he'd marry her.
And tomorrow was supposed to be my wedding day with Lance. Now the whole city was laughing at my family.
Lance didn't think he did anything wrong. He even came to my house today, acting all high and mighty, to tell me his decision.
He said, "You've always been so sensible. You should understand what Stacey's been through.
"And what is Isaac, anyway? Everyone in the city knows he's a good-for-nothing playboy. How could I stand by and watch Stacey jump into that fire?"
"Be my mistress. I'll still spoil you." He was getting more and more carried away, speaking as if he were doing me a favor.
I grabbed a cup off the table and smashed it at his feet. Porcelain shards flew everywhere.
Lance jumped back, scared. Then he pointed at me, furious. "Celine, are you crazy?"
"I am the heiress of the Ingram family. I will never be anyone's mistress." I pointed at the gates. "Take your charity and get out of my house."
Lance let out a series of cold, bitter laughs. His face was livid. "Celine, don't push your luck. You've been engaged to me for three years. Who else would even want you?
"You have no choice but to marry me. Do you really think you have another way out?"
He grabbed my wrist. His grip was like iron. "You don't get to decide. Tomorrow, I'm still sending the carriage. You'll get into it, and you'll do as you're told."
I yanked my arm free and slapped him across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the parlor.
Lance held his cheek. His eyes were full of disbelief. "You hit me?"
"That's for you, you scum." I looked at him coldly. "Lance, the engagement is over. You go your way, I'll go mine."
His eyes turned red. He gritted his teeth and pointed at me. "Fine, Celine. You've got guts. You petty, jealous woman. No one in their right mind would ever want you.
"Without me, who would marry you? You'll die alone. Just wait and see."
He stormed off in a rage, his coat flying behind him.
I stood frozen, my hand still numb from the slap.
Three years of us being together meant nothing compared to a few tears from Stacey.
Lance had stopped loving me a long time ago.
Funny how I spent half a month making my own wedding dress.
A dull thud came from outside. Something heavy hit the ground.
I turned around. A figure jumped down from the high wall and brushed the dust off his hands.
He wore a dark blue coat. His eyes held a playful gleam. He had a lazy, carefree way about him.
It was Isaac. The spoiled noble heir Stacey was supposed to marry.
He walked up to me in a few steps and looked down. "Lance stole my bride. Made me a joke."
He leaned closer, with a playful smirk on his lips. "Ms. Ingram, how should we settle this? Your man's debt is yours to pay. So don't you think you owe me a wife?"