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I'd been dating Michael Kingston, the golden boy of Kinbruge's elite, for two years. On the day of our engagement, I accidentally overheard him talking with his friend. "Michael, you're something else. Playing with Charlotte all these years, and you still aren't tired of her?" his friend grinned. "She's easy-going and hassle-free. She knows to take her pills afterward. What? You thinking about sleeping with her, too?" Michael stared at him. "Spare me, man. If I ever messed with your future wife, you'd go ballistic on me." His friend waved his hands. Michael scoffed, "My future wife? Don't joke about that. Nothing's settled yet. I'm free tonight. If you're up for some fun, swing by." That night, I didn't think twice before taking the glass of wine Michael handed me. But he was the one who ended up regretting it.