All That Love and Tears are for Nothing

The store clerks always swooned, their admiration as thick as honey.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wright,” one of them gushed, “You both look like a match made in heaven and you’ve got such kind hearts. Even treating your housemaid like family? That’s real love—may your marriage last a lifetime.”

I bit my tongue and smiled politely, even as every word sliced through me.

Then, fate had other plans for our ride home.

Halfway there, our car was suddenly surrounded—at least a dozen bikers in masks and helmets blocked the road, roaring up on motorcycles like a storm rolling in. They forced the driver to stop, shattered the windows with crowbars and swarmed us. This wasn’t a random robbery—they were here for Milford.

Their leader leaned in through the broken glass, voice rough and unapologetic. “Fifteen million dollars. In cash. Now.”

Milford, still trying to maintain his calm, adjusted his jacket and replied coolly, “Fifteen mil? Please. That’s pocket change to me. But cash like that takes time. Let us go and I’ll wire it or go get it myself.”

The man scoffed. “Don’t insult us, Mr. Wright. We all know how this game works. Word is you’re getting married. So tell us—” he glanced between me and Malissa, lips curling—“which one’s the lucky bride?”

His tone turned venomous. “Leave one of them behind. We’ll hold her as a little insurance. You try anything funny, we take a finger. Every hour, another one.”

Malissa and I both turned to Milford. These men weren’t bluffing—they had the look of people with nothing to lose.

Milford hesitated, his face twisted in some cocktail of calculation and fear.

Then, without warning, he grabbed me by the arm and shoved me forward. “It’s her,” he said coldly. “She’s my fiancée. Look her up, the photos are all online. Same face. You’ll see.”

I stumbled, stunned, as he practically offered me up.

“This is who you want. Let the rest of us go.”

I stared at Milford in disbelief.

So that was the real reason he’d been showing my photos around, acting like the doting fiancé? It wasn’t love. It was strategy. I was just a shield—for Malissa.

The gang wasn’t playing games. One of them grabbed my hand and, without a word, sliced off one of my fingers. Blood gushed instantly, hot and blinding.

I went white from the pain, but I never looked away from Milford.

“Are you sure you won’t regret this?” I asked, voice low and shaking.

Milford flinched under my gaze. He looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

“Lori… Lisa has no one else. I promised her I’d protect her,” he said, like he was the noble one here. “Just hang on for a while, okay? I’ll make it up to you. I’ll get the money. I’ll come back.”

Without hesitation, he took Malissa’s hand and walked away with her—never looking back.

I watched them leave, numb. My hand throbbed with pain, blood soaking through my sleeve, but the agony inside me ran deeper. In that moment, our entire marriage—the years, the promises, the child we had together—felt like a cruel joke.

Two hours passed. Two more fingers gone.

The gang leader grew impatient. He sent one of his men to check in with the Wright Clan.

“Boss, we got played.” The guy came back, pissed. “I went to their house to find that bastard Milford and guess what the butler says? Mr. Wright is busy putting his wife to sleep. That’s what he said. His wife.”

He spat on the ground and jerked a thumb toward me.

“Turns out this one isn’t the fiancée. She’s a goddamn decoy. The real one’s that other chick he left with.”

The pain radiated from my hand straight to my chest and for a moment, I couldn’t tell which hurt more—my body or my heart.

The gang leader snapped.

“You lying bitch!” he roared, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back. “You think you can play me? Huh? I ought to slit your damn throat right now!”

The blade was already at my neck when, finally—finally—Milford showed up.

However, he didn’t bring the money. Instead, he brought an army of bodyguards, who stormed the place and beat the gang to the ground in minutes.

So that’s where he’d been. Not getting cash. Not negotiating. Just… putting Malissa to bed.

The ride back was quiet at first. Then, as he wrapped gauze clumsily around my mangled hand, he said with a sigh—like he was the one who’d been through something.

“Lori, I know this was hard on you. I really do. But Lisa... she’s not like you. She’s sensitive. She couldn’t handle something like that.”

“If anything had happened to her, I couldn’t face my brother in the afterlife. You understand, don’t you?”

I was too exhausted to argue. Too done to care.

I waved him off, voice flat. “You don’t need to explain. I get it. I won’t take it personally.”

His eyes lit up like I’d just given him a gold star. “That’s what I love about you, Lori. You’re always the understanding one.”

“Once the wedding with Lisa’s over, I swear—I’ll take care of those enemies. You’ll never be in danger again.”

Whether Milford did it for me, or for Malissa’s safety—he knew the answer better than anyone. I didn’t have to say it out loud.

On the morning of the wedding, just before heading out, Milford took my hand.

“Lori,” he said gently, “thank you for being so understanding. Once all this is over, I’ll take you and Enid on a trip—just the three of us. A proper break.”

I gave him a soft smile and reached up to straighten his collar. “Sure,” I said, “go on now. Don’t keep your dear sister-in-law waiting.”

He paused, surprised—maybe even suspicious. He hadn’t expected me to be so calm. So agreeable. After all, I’d fought him so many times over his “dear Malissa.”

He didn’t dwell on it in the end. With a nod, he turned and left for the hotel, wedding suit crisp, steps confident.

I watched his back disappear down the drive and thought to myself—yeah, it was time. Enid and I needed to go.

Meanwhile, at the hotel, the ceremony was in full swing.

The officiant stood tall, voice echoing through the grand hall. “Mr. Wright, do you take Miss Malissa to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Milford opened his mouth to speak—but before he could say a word, the old family butler burst through the doors, pale and breathless.

“Sir—something terrible’s happened! Right after you left, those men from the other day—they came back. Reinforcements, maybe. They stormed the house. Took the madam and the young miss!”

The room froze.

“They just sent a video,” the butler stammered, hands shaking. “They—they’ve been killed.”