Ninety-Nine Betrayals, One Final Wedding Invitation

"You’d better not have chosen me. My heart belongs to Juliet. If you dare name me, I’ll ruin the wedding myself and make sure you’re utterly humiliated!"

At those words, even Theo’s expression shifted for a brief second. His voice turned colder than ever. "Don’t pick me either. I won’t marry you."

Staring at their expressions filled with disdain, Emma suddenly laughed.

She couldn’t help but wonder how much they hated her now. How could they be so gentle with Juliet yet treat her like she was nothing?

Her lips lifted faintly into a bitter smile, the ache in her heart spreading slowly.

She simply turned away, looking out the window in silence.

She doesn't choose either of them, and as for the man she is going to marry, they are not worthy of knowing it now!

That was when she saw several people in the courtyard digging up the rose bushes.

The same roses Cole and Theo had once planted for her were now being ripped from the ground like they meant nothing.

The garden was in chaos. And at that moment, she knew who was behind it.

A sharp pain pierced her chest. She turned around, her voice trembling with rage.

"Who told you to dig up the roses in my yard?!"

Facing her fury, Theo’s expression remained unchanged. His gaze was calm, indifferent, even.

"Juliet doesn’t like the smell of roses. So I had them cleared out."

He looked down. "And that dog you raised, I sold it. Juliet doesn’t like yellow things."

"What did you say?!"

That dog had been by Emma’s side for over a decade. Through every heartbreak, every tear, it had stayed with her like family.

And now, because Juliet disliked the color yellow, they had sold it off like it meant nothing.

A surge of fury flooded her, so fierce it nearly burned her from the inside out. Her whole body trembled and her voice came out hoarse.

"Theo, what gave you the right?!"

Cole stood there, utterly unfazed. "Those roses? Theo and I planted them one by one. The dog? A gift from us, too. So what’s wrong if we want to take them back?"

That single sentence cut her down like a blade. The words she wanted to hurl at them died in her throat. Her arms fell to her sides, fingers shaking. "Of course not. Take back whatever you want."

After all, soon enough, there’d be nothing left between us.

She couldn’t bear another second in that house. Turning on her heel, she left, gave the driver the address of a luxury club and slammed the door shut.

Then she messaged her best friend, Maya Everhart, telling her she had booked ten male models for the evening.

There were plenty of men in this world. Why waste another breath on Theo’s cold, heartless face?

The lighting in the club was dim, cloaked in a sultry haze that carried a vague, suggestive allure.

Just as she settled into her seat, a new post from Juliet flashed across her social feed.

[Spoiled every day by two handsome guys, so happy.]

Two photos followed.

One showed Cole, ever the reckless hothead, boiling brown sugar water for her late at night and thoughtfully placing a warming pad nearby.

The other showed Theo, usually cold and distant, crouching to tie her shoelaces, his gaze tender, her smile soft, like sunlight melting snow.