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At the wedding of the century with Aaron Clark, I waited for him for seven hours. He finally showed up only when the banquet was over, his designer suit soaked with rain and carrying the scent of another woman's perfume. In the golden hall, now empty after all the guests had left, he grabbed my hand, eyes red as he promised, "Nancy, everything I did was for our future." He had no idea. Our future was already gone. The next day, Aaron knelt in the pouring rain outside my villa, and it became the biggest headline in Otrul. My father, Keaton Welch, lit a cigar and said to the butler, "He wants to marry a Welch family's daughter? Notify the media. Maybe he'll have better luck in his next life, but he'd better be early."