My Fiancée Sent Me to Jail for Her Assistant,Now She Begs for Me Back

She didn't give me a chance to speak. Jean stood up and walked out, and I was transferred from the detention center to the local prison.

Eight months gone, just like that.

The day I got out, Jean came to pick me up in a wedding dress.

Of course I thought she was there to keep her promise—she'd said the wedding would go ahead the moment I was released.

"Paddy, it's been a while."

"Get in."

Jean in that wedding dress was almost unreal, the kind of beautiful that shuts your brain off before you can think straight. No man walks away from a woman who looks like that.

She smiled at me. Not a trace of guilt in her eyes for having me arrested and locked away for eight months.

I waved her off. "No need. I'll take the bus."

I paused.

Then added, "By the way, the wedding's off. I'm calling it."

Jean froze. "Calling it off?"

"Yes."

I nodded.

"Paddy, just get in. You'll see for yourself when we arrive."

"See what?"

"Get in."

She opened the door for me herself.

She had that look—something she wasn't telling me. Curiosity got the better of me, and the bus still hadn't shown, so I climbed in.

On the way back,

Jean asked, "Was it hard? Life in prison?"

"It was fine."

"Take this."

She handed me a bank card.

"What's this for?"

"There's money on it. Call it compensation for your time inside. I hope this whole experience taught you something."

"Don't make a mistake like that again."

I laughed.

I didn't reach for the card. Instead I asked her, "Tell me—what exactly did I do? Kill someone? Burn something down?"

"I threw one punch."

"And that was enough for you to call the police on me?"

Jean sighed. "So you still haven't let it go. Fine. Just take the card. Consider it your living expenses from now on."

I refused.

"I don't need it."

Her brows drew together. "No family, no job, no income—without this money, how exactly do you plan to survive?"

"That's not your concern."

"I won't starve."

Jean let out a helpless laugh. "You never change, do you. Stubborn to the bone."

She didn't bring up the card again.

Twenty-some minutes later,

the car stopped in front of the same hotel where she and I were supposed to have gotten married eight months ago.

"We're here."

Jean prompted me.

I stepped out, looked up at the hotel, and frowned.

When we reached the entrance to the banquet hall,

I saw Basil Chavez.

Sharp suit, hair slicked to a shine, looking every inch the groom. He spotted Jean and me stepping out of the elevator and waved us over with a grin.

"There's my wife—over here!"

I stiffened.

His eyes were locked on Jean the whole time.

Once we were close enough,

Basil stepped forward and caught Jean's hand, already fussing. "Tired from the drive?"

Jean shook her head with a smile. "Not at all."

Only then did Basil turn to me.

"Paddy, long time no see."

"Didn't think you'd actually show."

"Thanks for coming to our wedding. Mine and Jean's."

He didn't need to tell me. Their wedding photo was right there, the two of them beaming, hung dead center at the entrance to the banquet hall.

I looked at them both and almost laughed.

"So that's what this was. Waiting at the prison gates in a wedding dress, letting me believe you were taking me to our ceremony—when the whole point was dragging me here to watch you marry Basil Chavez."

"You did this to humiliate me?"

I held Jean's gaze, perfectly calm.

She said nothing.

Basil jumped in. "Paddy, don't misunderstand. It was my idea for her to pick you up."

"No one's trying to humiliate you. We just hoped you'd be happy for us."

Jean let out a cold scoff. "You're the one who wanted to call off the engagement. Now you've got exactly what you wanted. Stay for the reception, finish your drink, and then you can leave."

I didn't leave. I stayed, just as they wanted, and sat through the wedding.

Many of the guests Jean had invited knew me.

When they saw me there, they assumed I'd make a scene before the night was over.

As for Basil, he waited until Jean was busy with other things.

Then he sidled up and whispered in my ear, "Paddy, sorry about stealing your woman. But I gotta say—her body? Unreal. We've done things you wouldn't believe. I asked her. She told me you two never tried any of it."

I gave him a sidelong glance.

He kept smiling. "You were right last time. I conned her on purpose. Her body, her money—I want all of it. Not my fault she's stupid enough to hand it over."

He patted my shoulder and dropped his voice even lower. "But hey, don't sweat it. Once I've used her up and gotten bored, I'll give her back. You can marry her then. Play house. Give her a warm little home."

Everything Basil said was calculated to make me snap, to goad me into throwing a punch.

He miscalculated.

I smiled faintly and let my gaze drift to Jean in the distance, her face bright with a happy smile. "She chose this road herself. She can crawl to the end of it on her knees."