Destiny Picked a Better Man

I placed Liam Morgan's photo in front of my parents.

They exchanged a look—clearly uneasy.

“Destiny,” my dad began, “we know you’ve liked Lucas since you were little. Maybe you should reconsider—”

I shook my head.

“If this is what fate chose, maybe I should try going along with it… just this once.”

I already knew how things would end if I forced that marriage to happen.

Seeing that I was firm in my decision, my parents gave in with a sigh.

“All right. We’ll reach out to the Morgans and discuss the engagement. But Destiny, both the Meyers and the Morgans are high-profile families. To avoid any unnecessary trouble, we should keep this quiet until the actual engagement party.”

I agreed. But on my way to a charity gala that night, reporters swarmed me. Somehow, the news was leaked.

“Miss Meyer! Have you chosen which family you’ll be engaged to?”

Another reporter jumped in before I could speak.

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Whitmores’ son. It must be him, right?”

I looked up and met Lucas Whitmore’s eyes as he stepped into the venue.

Surrounded by cameras and press, his expression was as cold and dismissive as always.

“Excuse us.”

His bodyguards pushed the reporters aside. He walked past them without hesitation, pulling a pale-faced Claire Monroe into his arms.

“My heart has always belonged to Claire,” he said. “Even if I’m forced to marry someone else for the sake of the family, I will never give a single shred of my love to anyone but her.”

Claire’s cheeks flushed pink as she clung tightly to his waist.

Nearby, a few socialites—girls who had never liked me—giggled quietly.

“So what if she’s the number one heiress? Mr. Whitmore clearly wants nothing to do with her. All that wealth, and he’s still into the daughter of a nouveau riche.”

“She’s such a disgrace to the Meyers. She threw herself at Lucas just to play second lead to Claire.”

Their voices got louder, the mockery sharper. Claire lifted her head from Lucas’s chest and gave me a smug, triumphant look.

I turned away and focused on the event.

Of all things, the organizers had to seat Lucas right next to me.

He sat down with tension in his jaw, still clearly upset.

“Destiny Meyer.” Lucas snapped. “How many times do I have to say it? I don’t want to marry you. Why won’t you just let me go?”

I’d heard that line more times than I could count. It still hurts, even now.

“I’m not holding on to you.” I said quietly.

He slammed his fist onto the table, eyes full of disgust.

“Then why do you keep forcing this? Just because your family outranks mine, you think you can decide my future for me?”

“You’re stomping all over my dignity. Even if we do end up married, don’t expect me to ever look at you.”

And he meant it. In my last life, he didn’t give me a single ounce of affection.

Just then, the woman he claimed to love walked over. Her eyes were glistening with tears. She didn’t say a word before dropping to her knees in front of me.

“Miss Meyer, I know you hate me. But my parents didn’t do anything wrong. When you had security throw them out, my father almost had a heart attack.

“I’m begging you, please leave us alone. I’ll even back off and let you have Lucas, if that’s what it takes…”