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"Quinn, Rosie's actually had a thing for you forever. If you actually married her, she'd lose it."

I jerked awake. Gordon Yelton was staring dead serious.

I was alive. Again.

Deborah, his wife, sat next to me, clutching my hand, all soft smiles. "You've crushed on Rosie for ten years. If this marriage happens..."

My parents exchanged tight smiles. We all knew the game.

This wasn't about love. The Yeltons were broke, and they needed our money. Everyone knew I'd been Rosie's lovesick fool.

Back then? Marrying her felt like some fantasy come true.

Now? I wanted her dead.

I snapped out of it. "I'm not marrying Rosie."

Silence. Every pair of eyes locked on me.

I used to orbit Rosie—chasing every glance, every word.

Deborah blinked. "Did you two fight? I'll talk to her."

I shook my head. "Don't bother."

Gordon frowned. "Is this about Caleb?"

I didn't answer.

He sighed. "Caleb's just some broke kid we sponsored. Rosie felt sorry for him. I'll have someone ship him off."

He said the same crap last time. It blew up in my face.

Rosie lost it when Caleb got yanked out of her life.

On our wedding night, she sent in a pack of girls infected with STDs. I didn't know until a month later—right before she locked me in the basement to see which disease would stick.

By the time my parents figured it out, my rep was already in flames.

"This is your son," she told them. "He cheated, caught something gross, and brought it home. Filthy."

They were crushed. It destroyed them.

Rosie didn't flinch. She clung to Caleb and sneered, "Once your parents die, I'm handing Quandt Corp to Caleb. He deserves it."

I felt completely hollow.

Then I rotted.

Just remembering made my hands tremble.

"Rosie doesn't deserve me," I said, sharp.

Gordon's jaw clenched. "Yeah, our company's bleeding. But if your family backs us, you won't regret it."

He wasn't wrong.

Last time, my parents dumped a million into Yelton Group. It exploded. Quandt Corp stayed behind the scenes and still raked in cash.

I wasn't against smart business.

But my voice stayed ice cold. "I'm not marrying Rosie Yelton. I'm marrying Yvette Yelton."

The room went still.

Gordon shot up. "Yvette?!"

"She's adopted," Deborah whispered. "And she just got kidnapped... she's in a wheelchair. Didn't you hate her?"

Dad stepped in. "Quinn! Don't do anything stupid!"

I just patted his hand, keeping him calm.