100 Days To Turn The Billionaire Straight.

Chapter 1.

Narrator’s POV

From what I’d heard, it was supposed to be the wedding of the year. There were flowers flown over with five hundred guests that had been carefully chosen alongside a bride who had probably been preparing for this day since she was twelve and a groom whose last name alone could open every door in the city.

People had been talking about it for months. The venue, the designer dress, the private island honeymoon that was supposed to follow right after. It was the kind of wedding girls pinned on their vision boards and aunties used to wish for their own children. Everything looked and felt perfect.

Until it was not.

Alice stood at the altar in a gown that cost more than most people’s yearly rent, hands folded tight in front of her, her smile was fixed so hard it looked painful. The pastor kept glancing toward the entrance while the bridesmaids shifted from one foot to the other. Guests who had been smiling and waving phones for pictures started leaning into each other, voices dropping low.

“Is he seriously not here yet?”

“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic?”

“Traffic? On a day like this? Please. Something is definitely wrong.”

Bryan’s side of the family sat stiff in the front rows. His father stared straight ahead, jaw locked while the stepmother kept her expression neutral, but her eyes moved constantly, measuring every whisper. And then there was Darson, Bryan’s brother. He sat with one leg crossed over the other, phone face-down on his thigh, looking like a man who already knew the ending of a movie everyone else was still watching.

A soft sound cut through the murmurs. Darson glanced down, then stood and walked a few feet away from the row, turning his back to the altar as he answered.

“Is it ready?” His voice was low, almost bored. “I’ve been waiting. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.”

Whoever was on the other end said something that made the corner of Darson’s mouth curl.

“Good. Send it now. I want every screen in this place lit up before he even thinks of walking through that door.” He paused, listening. “No. I don’t care how you got it. Just make sure the face is clear. People need to see exactly who their perfect groom really is.”

There was another short silence before he spoke again. “You’re doing the right thing. He was going to lock everything down today. From marriage to inheriting the company. Once this plays out as expected, nobody will look at him the same again.” He ended the call without a goodbye and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Carly, his sister, had followed him a few steps. She spoke in a low and sharp.

“What were you doing just now? Who was that?”

Darson turned his head slightly, eyes still on the altar, and whispered so only she could hear.

“You’ll see.”

He walked back to his seat like nothing had happened. Carly frowned but followed, settling beside him with a restless look. The rest of the family had not noticed the exchange. Alice was still smiling when the first screen flickered.

It started on the large display behind the pastor, the one meant for the live feed of the couple’s first kiss. Then the side screens caught it too. One by one the monitors around the hall lit up with the same footage; showing a hotel bed and Bryan, unmistakable even from the angle, shirt open with his head tipped back. In between his legs was a man burying his whole length into his mouth. No room for polite interpretation.

For three full seconds the hall was silent. Then the aftershock hit. Someone gasped. A phone camera started recording. The murmurs turned into open talk, sharp and rising.

“Is that…?”

“That’s Bryan.”

“With a man?”

“Oh my God.”

Alice’s smile cracked first at the edges. She turned toward the nearest screen, then the next, as if she was hoping the image would change if she looked hard enough. Her hands dropped from their careful fold as the bouquet slipped from her hand. One of the bridesmaids reached for her and missed.

Darson watched it all with a calm expression of someone who had already collected his prize. He did not smile wide. He did not need to. The satisfaction sat quiet in his eyes as he leaned back and let the noise swell around him. This was the moment he had arranged. The video had not leaked by accident. The man in it had not acted alone. Darson had made sure the timing was perfect. Destroy his brother’s image on his wedding day in the presence of the full audience. No other way to bury it quietly.

Bryan’s father stood so fast his chair scraped. His wife’s hand landed on his arm, but he shook it off.

The guests in the back rows were already standing, some pushing toward the aisles, others holding their phones higher. The pastor tried to speak and no one listened.

Alice took one step back from the altar. Then another. Her chest rose and fell too quickly. Her mascara had not started running yet, but her eyes were bright with the kind of tears that came from shock first and shame second. She looked toward the entrance like Bryan might still appear and explain everything away. But he didn’t.

Someone near the front said it loud enough for everyone to hear.

“He left her at the altar for this?”

Another voice answered, sharper.

“He didn’t leave. He got caught.”

The hall that was silent minutes ago had now turned into a living thing, restless and hungry for more. Darson finally allowed himself a small breath of a laugh, covered by a cough as he stood and adjusted his cuffs. He caught his father’s eye and arranged his face into something closer to concern. The performance was important. Later he would be the brother who tried to hold the family together. Right now he only needed to watch the first crack spread.

Carly sat frozen beside him, eyes wide on the nearest screen. She turned to Darson once, but he gave her nothing except that same quiet look that said he had told her she would see.

Alice made a sound that was not quite a sob. She turned from the altar completely and walked, then walked faster, past the bridesmaids, past the open-mouthed guests, down the long aisle while cameras followed her like she was the main event.

The scene still kept playing. Someone had not cut the feed. Bryan’s face remained clear in every frame, caught in a moment he had never planned for an audience. The man with him stayed mostly turned away, but it did not matter. The damage was already done.

Darson slipped his hands into his pockets and glanced once more at the entrance, as if checking whether his brother might still try to salvage anything. The doorway stayed empty.

Outside, the city kept moving but inside, the perfect wedding had finished collapsing in under ten minutes.

And somewhere, not here, not answering any of the calls that were about to flood his phone, Bryan was still missing.

Where exactly could the groom be while his entire life was being expelled into thin air in front of five hundred witnesses?