Chapter 3

My mind went blank, and I whipped around to look at Claire.

She rushed up onto the stage and smashed the screen with a chair.

That video had been recorded on her birthday last year, at her request.

She'd sworn no one else would ever see it, and now it was playing in front of a room full of guests.

Adrian staggered back a couple of steps, landing right next to the microphone.

He pointed at me, his voice shaking as it carried through the entire room.

"So, you're the one who sent those private videos to seduce Claire. You're the homewrecker."

Every set of eyes in the room turned on me, sharp as needles.

"I didn't... mmph!"

A hand shot out from behind me and clamped down hard over my mouth, dragging me backward.

Marcus stepped up onto the stage right on cue, apologizing to Adrian in front of everyone.

"I'm so sorry, Adrian. I never imagined Julian would go this far, playing something like that at your wedding.

"As his friend, I apologize on his behalf, for knowing he was the other man and deliberately trying to sabotage your wedding."

Then, he bowed deeply to Adrian. That single bow sealed my fate as the homewrecker for good. Curses poured in from every direction, flooding my ears like a tidal wave.

"So, the homewrecker showed up to make a scene. Disgusting."

"He has no shame at all, playing something like that at someone's wedding."

"Mr. Locke has asthma. What if this triggers an attack? That man is pure poison."

I don't know who threw the first punch. Someone grabbed leftover food off a table and dumped it on me, while someone else kicked me twice in the chaos. I was half dragged, half carried out of the ballroom.

Marcus followed me out. He sighed and pulled a tissue from his bag to wipe the mess off my clothes.

"Julian, what's done is done. Stop being so stubborn about it. Adrian isn't just some ordinary guy. Claire only got her position on the board because the Lockes pushed for it behind the scenes.

"After the scene you made today, all it takes is a snap of their fingers and you won't be able to stay in Ashbury anymore. Everything I just did up there was for your own good."

"For my own good?" My voice came out so hoarse it barely sounded like mine. "The two of you lied to me for three years and publicly branded me a homewrecker in front of everyone. And you call that for my own good?"

Marcus wouldn't meet my eyes. I shook his hand off my arm, hailed a cab, and got in.

The second I pulled up outside my hotel, I saw a crowd standing at the entrance, pointing and whispering. My photo was plastered across the hotel's front door, along with words scrawled in red paint.

[Die, homewrecker!]

In less than an hour, someone had already posted the wedding video online. My name, my address, everything about me had been dug up and exposed. The comments section was filled with nothing but abuse.

Just then, a text message came in from my company's leadership.

[Julian Chase, in light of recent concerns about your personal conduct, the company has decided to suspend you, pending further investigation.]

Clenching my jaw, I apologized to the hotel staff and grabbed a rag, scrubbing at the words on the door. The paint had soaked in, like it was carved straight into the wood.

No matter how hard I scrubbed, it wouldn't come off. By the time I finished the last letter, my fingernail cracked against the edge of the doorframe and blood started welling up.

That was when I finally broke down and sobbed. I cried until I was too exhausted to keep going, then slumped against the wall and fell asleep without meaning to.

My dreams were a chaotic blur. Countless faces flashed past me before everything finally froze on the wedding stage. Claire looked down at me being dragged away, not a flicker of emotion on her face.

I woke up with a jolt. I stared at a photo of Claire and me together on my phone for a long time. Then, I got up and opened my laptop.

Why should I let this stand?

Why should five years of real love get erased with a single word like "homewrecker"?

Why should the people who actually did something wrong get to walk away happy, while I got nailed to a post of shame for everyone to spit on?

I hadn't done anything wrong. I didn't deserve any of this.

I compiled years of chat logs and transfer records between Claire and me, posting it online as proof that I was never the other man.

Then, I booked the earliest flight I could find, ready to leave this heartbreak of a city behind for good.

But the second I finished packing and climbed into a cab, a voice slid out like a whisper from the devil himself.

"Julian, when are you going to learn to behave?"