Betrayed at the Altar,The Lost Billionaire Heir's Revenge

On our wedding day, Tamara Pruitt suddenly raised the bride price from the previously agreed-upon $188,000 to a full million.

"Arthur Vance, you've got half an hour. If you can't come up with the money, I'm marrying someone else. Right now."

She didn't look like she was joking. This was the wedding I'd waited seven years for, so I didn't argue. I pulled out my phone and started calling in every favor I had.

But less than thirty seconds later, Tamara grabbed another man's hand and pulled him up onto the stage.

She waved me off with a flick of her wrist, impatience written all over her face.

"Forget it, Arthur. Even if you had three lifetimes, a broke loser like you could never scrape together a million dollars."

She yanked the man beside her closer, her voice dripping with sweetness.

"Let me introduce you. Jarvis Farley. Heir to the Farley Group. And as of this moment, my husband."

My gaze settled on the man's face. Once I'd confirmed what I needed to see, I looked at Tamara nestled in Jarvis's arms and spoke, my voice low.

"Tamara, I hope you don't regret this."

"Regret?!"

Her voice shot up an octave.

"The only thing I regret is not leaving a deadbeat like you sooner!"

I watched her press against Jarvis's chest, her cheeks flushed with coy delight, and I smiled.

What she didn't know was that Jarvis Farley was nothing more than an orphan Old Mr. Farley had adopted from a children's home to ease the ache of missing his real grandson. The Farley family's only true heir had gone missing twenty years ago.

But a month ago, that child had been found.

That child was me.

——

"Arthur, you're disgusting! What the hell are you smiling about?!"

Tamara's eyes raked over me, dripping with contempt.

"Don't think I'm joking with you. I will never spend my life with some penniless nobody. Don't even think about—"

"I won't."

I cut her off, my voice cold.

"Since there's no wedding, get off my stage. I paid for all of this."

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to, you piece of trash?!"

Before I even finished speaking, Jarvis charged at me and slammed his fist into my face.

I didn't see it coming. The blow sent me staggering, and blood streamed from my nose, trickling down past the corner of my mouth like a thin red creek.

Tamara walked over, pressed her fingers hard against the wound, and hissed through clenched teeth, "Arthur, Jarvis is doing you a favor by using the venue you set up. Don't push your luck."

She waved a hand behind her.

"Someone strip the groom's suit off him. Have it cleaned and put it on Jarvis."

Before I could react, a swarm of hulking men rushed me and tore every piece of clothing from my body.

December in the capital was already bitterly cold. I stood under the spotlight in nothing but my underwear, shaking.

Roaring laughter erupted from the crowd below.

"See that? When a man's got nothing to offer, even the woman in his arms gets snatched away! Pathetic!"

"Being broke is one thing, but being stupid is another! Does he even know who that girl caught the eye of? That's the young heir of the Farley family, the richest in the city! If a man like that wants your woman, you hand her over with a bow, even if she's given you eight kids!"

"Otherwise—"

The man jutted his chin in my direction.

"You end up like that."

The jeering didn't stop until Jarvis walked back onstage wearing my suit. Then the crowd fell silent.

Tamara and Jarvis kissed shamelessly on the stage of the wedding I'd spent seven years planning.

Watching Tamara's flushed face, I knew the girl from seven years ago was gone. The one who'd shared a cramped rental with me and made me believe nothing could ever shake what we had. That girl was dead.

The truth was, I hadn't planned to let anything shake it.

But my grandfather had already set a plan in motion.