The Letters He Stole A Billionaire's Stolen Love

She'd kept it perfectly preserved, pressed against her chest this whole time.

The officer's eyes went wide：“But isn't Mr. Delgado your husband?”

I gave an awkward laugh：“We're already divorced. Just haven't picked up the certificates yet.”

In the end, it turned out the whole thing was a false alarm.

By the time we left the station, it was the middle of the night.

Evelyn went to get her car.

That left just me and Winston.

He looked at me, then laughed out loud：“Connor, how have you not changed at all after all these years? Still the same lovesick fool chasing after Evelyn.”

I didn't say anything.

Winston kept going：“Want to know why Evelyn fell for me?”

He leaned in close：“Because the one she was supposed to fall for was you.”

I went rigid.

Winston continued：“Back then she got tons of love letters, but yours were the only ones she kept. I didn't even know you were the one writing them, not until one day I came back early from morning exercises and caught you slipping an envelope into her locker—same purple stationery she'd been saving.”

“Later, after you tossed that confession letter in the trash, I fished it out. The day the SATs ended, I scratched out your name, wrote mine over it, and went to confess to her. She said yes. Even told me how much she'd loved those letters, how they'd made her laugh. Just like that, we were together. And that tramp? She fell right in line—for me.”

Every part of me locked up.

Winston's grin only stretched wider：

“I went through every letter you wrote her, you know. They really were something. You remembered everything—what she liked to eat, what she liked to drink, what she did every single day. Like a diary. Oh, and one more thing.”

“In college, when you heard we'd broken up, you finally worked up the nerve to go after her. Too bad. She turned right around and forwarded your messages to me, asked me to reply for her. Those two years of flirty texts? That was me. I was stringing you along on purpose. Watching you dance on my strings—God, that was fun.”

“After that, she and I kept breaking up and getting back together. I even got caught checking into hotels with other women. She never said a word.”

“Connor. When it comes down to it, I should really thank you. You're the one who made that cheap little thing come running back to me.”

I went cold—all the way through. I couldn't get out a single word.

Then something shifted behind Winston's eyes.

He grabbed my hand and slammed it across his own face.

“Crack!”

Before I could even react, a harder slap landed on my cheek.

Evelyn's voice, ice-cold：“Connor, do you have a death wish?”

She hadn't asked a single question. Didn't hesitate for a second. Just took his side.

I stared past Winston's smirk, my hand pressed to my burning cheek, and took one last long look at Evelyn：“Evelyn, you were right. You really are a terrible person.”

I turned and walked away. Packed as fast as I could. Flew back to Manhattan that same day.

Three days later, a wedding invitation appeared on my feed.

Evelyn and Winston's.

Their wedding was the same day as mine.