"Grayson Maxwell? Did you seriously think I'd waste my life on someone as cold and boring as you? I hope you find another poor idiot. Someone who can actually tolerate your cold, lifeless personality!"

The room erupted in laughter—some nervous, others bold and mean.

"What a humiliation," murmured a woman in a pearl necklace.

"I always knew that engagement was a sham," said another.

That night, the Langley family had spared no expense. They'd thrown London's most extravagant engagement party, all to loudly announce the "perfect union" between Catherine Langley and Grayson Maxwell.

The bride's father, Robert Langley—a man with an imposing presence—had taken the mic with a polished smile and started his speech.

"Dear friends, family, allies," he began. "Tonight we celebrate more than an engagement. We're celebrating the union of two empires. I now call on my daughter and her fiancé, Grayson Maxwell, to join me."

Grayson had set down his glass and walked toward his future father-in-law. The man he tolerated for only one reason: the Langleys had stolen something from him. And this wedding was how he planned to get it back… even if it meant sharing a last name with a porcelain doll like Catherine.

He stopped at the edge of the stage and waited. But tension crept into his shoulders as seconds passed and Catherine didn't appear. The murmurs began.

Elsewhere, Melinda Langley, the family matriarch, clenched her fan tightly in one hand.

"Where the hell is that girl?" she hissed through gritted teeth as she made her way through the crowd.

Minutes dragged on. Robert, clearly irritated, snapped his fingers at one of his bodyguards. The man nodded and disappeared down a side hallway.

Moments later, a pale and trembling maid appeared. She rushed to Robert and whispered something in his ear that made his expression twist into a mask of barely contained fury.

"Check social media!" someone shouted, holding up their phone.

Phones lit up instantly. In seconds, the entire room buzzed with gasps, stunned laughter, and scandalized whispers.

And Grayson Maxwell lived through the worst humiliation of his twenty-nine years.

And there his fiancée was, lounging on a tropical island, tanned, in a bikini, cheating on him with her personal trainer. She'd posted a video. On purpose. To humiliate him.

Grayson stopped the video and slowly lowered his phone. His face was unreadable. But inside, he was seething.

Robert stepped forward, desperate to do damage control.

"This… this is clearly some kind of misunderstanding, Mr. Maxwell. I assure you, my daughter—"

"A misunderstanding?" Grayson cut him off with a dangerous look. "Your daughter made herself crystal clear. Now let me be just as clear."

He grabbed a champagne glass, raised it like a toast… and then smashed it hard against the table. The shatter of glass echoed across the room.

"You have exactly one day," he said coldly. "One day to find another bride to save your pathetic financial empire, Langley. Because tomorrow, when the market opens, I will personally make sure every share in your company is worth less than the shards of this glass. And believe me," he added with an icy smile, "I have the power and the connections to make the name Langley synonymous with bankruptcy."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving behind a stunned silence… and dozens of phones still recording.