He Left Me at the Altar

At our lavish engagement party, Brandon Sterling’s self-proclaimed rival, Seraphina Price, suddenly returned from abroad. She sneered right in my face, in front of the entire elite crowd: "He only agreed to marry you to spite me and force me to come back. We’ve had an enemies-to-lovers thing going on for years. He could never truly let me go!" Before I could even speak, Brandon ripped off his engagement ring and threw it down. "Seraphina, do you really want to see me go crazy for you that badly?" With that, he walked out on me, leaving me behind as the biggest laughingstock in the city. The next night at a high-profile gala, Brandon shielded Seraphina—who had just dumped a glass of wine over my head—and tossed words at me like charity: "Here’s ten million dollars. Call it compensation for the ruined wedding." "Now, apologize to Seraphina. Or the engagement is officially off." I chuckled softly, my voice cold: "Brandon, playing with my heart will cost you your life." He scoffed in disgust. "Who do you think you are to talk like that?" Later, at the prestigious international investment summit, Brandon’s powerful father sprinted through the rain just to open my limousine door, while Seraphina’s father bowed low, begging me to accept his toast. I took the ten-million-dollar check and shoved it down the collar of Brandon’s shirt. "Ten million. It buys me three barks like a good dog. Bark loud enough, and maybe I’ll show mercy." The day after Brandon left me at the altar, Seraphina—the woman starring in this toxic enemies-to-lovers drama with him—drenched my face with red wine. She sneered maliciously, her voice dripping with venom: "Did you really think you won just because you stole Brandon while I was fighting with my family?" "So what if the Prices and the Sterlings have bad blood? A substitute is just a cheap knockoff. The second I snap my fingers, Brandon will choose me a hundred, a thousand times over. Because I’m the only one he truly loves!" I took a pristine linen handkerchief from a trembling server, calmly wiping the wine dripping from the ends of my hair. "Let me get this straight, Miss Price." "You’re saying you and my ex-fiancé are tragic enemies who can’t live without each other?" "Hate to burst your bubble, but that only works in cheesy romance novels. In the real world, a woman who clings to an engaged man is simply called a homewrecking side-piece." I took a step forward and slapped the wine-soaked handkerchief straight into her face. I added, cold as ice: "Back in the day, they had a nastier name for it. A desperate mistress." "A cheap whore who throws her body away just to buy a little attention." Seraphina had never heard of my name in the New York high society circles. She assumed I was some broke, defenseless nobody. She thought that after being publicly ditched at the altar, a few more insults would send me crying into the night. She never expected that the words "cheap whore" would make her shake with blind fury. She raised her empty wine glass, ready to smash it against my forehead. "Who the hell do you think you are?!" The glass was intercepted midair by a large, manicured hand. Brandon’s brows furrowed. He was about to reprimand Seraphina for going too far, but the second he saw her eyes well up with tears, his harshness melted into helpless affection. "Seraphina, you know I can't bear to see you upset. Why make such a scene?" Seraphina turned her head away stubbornly. "Stay out of this!" "If you really care about me, make her apologize to me right now." Brandon sighed and pulled a personalized checkbook from his suit pocket. He looked me up and down, taking in my soaked, disheveled dress. His pen paused before jotting down a figure he deemed generous. "Here’s ten million dollars. Consider it compensation for walking out on the wedding." "Now apologize to Seraphina. Otherwise, I’m calling off the marriage for good." Looking into Brandon’s eyes, a wave of nausea washed over me. There was no warmth. No tenderness. Not even a shred of guilt. He wasn't looking at the woman he had dated for three years. He was sizing up a piece of soiled merchandise. Seeing that I stayed silent, Brandon stepped closer and coaxed me with blatant impatience: "Eve, just take the money." "Apologize to Seraphina, alright? Don't make this difficult for me." That sweet pet name, "Eve," shattered the final illusion I had left of him. It was the whisper he only used in the intimate dark of our bedroom. Now, it was just a cheap psychological trick to keep me obedient. Yesterday, when he ran out of our ceremony, I could still lie to myself and call it a moment of reckless passion. But now— Brandon, you really did treat me like a toy you could discard whenever you pleased. I slowly lifted my chin and gave him a faint, chilling smile. "Brandon, I’ll only say this once." "Playing with my heart is going to cost you your life." Brandon froze for a second, then let out a scoff full of disdain. Clearly, he didn't believe a single word. "You think you have the power to threaten me?" He tossed the signed check onto the table beside us. "Suit yourself. Play nice, and you might still get to be Mrs. Sterling." Brandon threw out the casual warning. Then he wrapped his arm around a weeping Seraphina and walked out of the ballroom, head held high. The moment their figures vanished past the grand double doors, the host of the gala—Marcus Davenport, President of the Metropolitan Chamber of Commerce—practically stumbled through the crowd. He skidded to a dead halt in front of me, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "My deepest, most sincere apologies! This was an unforgivable failure on our part!" Davenport kept his head bowed, terrified to even meet my gaze. "I had no idea you were actually..." "It’s entirely my fault for failing to screen the guests properly and letting those two arrogant brats disrespect you like this. Please... please forgive us, Miss." I didn’t answer. My eyes drifted past Davenport’s shaking shoulders, landing on the check lying on the table. I picked it up and handed it to my bodyguard, who had silently materialized in the shadows behind me. "Hold onto this ten million." "Mr. Sterling’s generous 'emotional distress settlement.' Sooner or later, I’ll make sure the Sterlings pay it back in full."President Davenport bowed deeply, watching my car drive away before he finally dared to stand upright. A suffocating silence hung over the grand ballroom. A few prominent business tycoons hurried over, their voices shaking with confusion. "President Davenport, isn't she just Brandon Sterling’s new little girlfriend? Word is she has zero family background. Why on earth are you bowing to her like that?" Another CEO elbowed him, chiming in with a smirk: "Exactly. We already ran a background check on her. She doesn't belong to any elite circle around here. She’s just a rebound Brandon picked up to make Seraphina Price jealous. Why are you treating her like royalty?" Davenport’s face drained of all color in an instant. He shook his head violently. Under everyone’s bewildered stares, he raised a trembling hand and made a very specific, discreet gesture. That tiny signal alone sent a shockwave through the room. "What?! It’s... it’s THAT family?!" The tycoons who had been sneering a second ago looked like they were being choked. Every drop of blood vanished from their faces. Davenport looked around at the petrified expressions, his voice hoarse with dread: "The Old Man himself just called my private line. The orders came directly from the top." "Anyone who leaks a single syllable about what happened tonight..." He paused, his eyes sweeping over them like cold steel: "Will face total annihilation." Finally, Davenport let out a heavy sigh: "We were all blind. That young lady is not someone anyone can mess with." "The Sterlings and the Prices... they just stepped on a landmine. They're done for." The news spread like a stone dropped into a bottomless abyss—silent on the surface, but devastating underneath. Almost overnight, both the Sterling and Price conglomerates were hit by an unprecedented financial winter. Just days ago, everyone was desperately competing to partner with them. Now, their most stable partners abruptly backed out. Multi-million-dollar contracts were frozen indefinitely, and their cash flow dried up within hours. Brandon sat behind his mahogany desk, calling in every favor and contact he had ever made. The answers he received were terrifyingly cryptic. "Brandon, whoever your families crossed this time... their influence is way beyond our league." "Unless you can make that person calm down, you guys are toast." With zero options left, Brandon aggressively yanked at his silk tie, his breathing ragged. Knock, knock, knock. The office door opened softly. Seraphina hurried inside, her face flushed with excitement, yet her words hesitated on her tongue: "Brandon, I think I figured out what's going on!" "It's just... I don't know if you can handle the truth." Brandon snapped his head up, his bloodshot eyes locking onto her. "Spit it out!" Seraphina leaned in, feigning reluctance: "I pulled strings through several elite circles. Everyone confirmed that all this chaos started right after that gala the other night." "People saw that President Davenport was acting extremely weird around Evelyn Lockhart!” “He wasn't just being polite, and it definitely wasn't normal respect for a young guest. It was... well, this timid, overly affectionate, sickeningly intimate behavior..." "Intimate?" Brandon caught that single word, his voice rising sharply. Seeing her bait taken, Seraphina hid a smirk and nodded repeatedly: "Yes!" "Countless people saw it! There are already nasty rumors spreading across town, saying Evelyn and Marcus Davenport are... sleeping together!" "After you ditched her at the wedding, she thought ten million was too little.” “She must have hooked up with Davenport, and to keep his new young toy happy, he's using all his resources to tear our families apart! It's all just to avenge her!" Boom— All the blood in Brandon’s body rushed straight to his brain. The chilling warning I had left at the gala echoed in his mind: Brandon, playing with my heart will cost you your life. So that was it! No wonder everyone was keeping their mouths shut! It was this kind of filthy, disgusting scandal! He finally found an explanation that fit his twisted ego—vile, dirty, yet completely "logical." Brandon paced back and forth, madness creeping into his eyes: "The international investment summit hosted by the elite committee is happening the day after tomorrow right here in the city. You and I both know the caliber of titans attending that event!" Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and hammered the intercom button on his desk. "At a critical time like this, the Sterling name cannot be dragged through the mud." "Host a private banquet for me tomorrow night." "Make sure Marcus Davenport and Evelyn Lockhart are both dragged to that venue!"Inside the car, I had just finished visiting my mother's resting place at the serene memorial park. I looked down, gently tracing the smooth jade bangle she had left me. My mood was heavy; all I wanted was peace and quiet. As for the invitation Brandon had sent, I didn't even bother to open it. Right then, the driver slowed down and spoke hesitantly: "Miss, someone’s blocking the road ahead." I looked up. Two black sedans were parked bumper to bumper, completely barricading the exit route from the cemetery. The man stepping out was a familiar face—Brandon’s personal assistant. He walked up to my window, bowing with forced politeness: "Miss Lockhart, Mr. Sterling requests your presence at tonight’s private banquet. A car is prepared. Please step out." I frowned, my voice raspy from exhaustion: "Tell him I'm not feeling well. I'm not going." Hearing my refusal, the assistant’s tone hardened instantly: "Mr. Sterling made it clear. If you won't come willingly, we'll have to use force." The burly men in suits behind him stepped forward in unison, their stance dripping with threat. My driver’s eyes turned lethal. His hand moved toward his encrypted communicator as he whispered: "Miss, should we eliminate them—" "No need. I'll go." The banquet hall was packed with the city’s top business players. Arm in arm with Seraphina, Brandon cut through the crowd and stopped directly in front of me. I looked up at the pair clinging to each other. A cold irritation flashed across my mind. "Mr. Sterling, you went to such great lengths to drag me here. What do you want?" Brandon scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery: "What, can't a man have a chat with his own 'fiancée'? Or did I interrupt an 'important' date of yours, Miss Lockhart?" He lingered heavily on the words "fiancée" and "important." I couldn't fathom what kind of delusion he was suffering from now. "Fiancée?" I repeated softly, my stare icy. "Brandon, if my memory serves me right, you were the one who ditched me in front of hundreds of people to run off with another woman, weren't you?" Brandon’s face stiffened. I didn't stop: "Now you parade around with the woman you actually wanted, yet you still use the title of 'fiancée' to harass your ex? Does stringing women along and playing with people's lives give you a thrill?" "Or do you need to stomp all over your ex-lover just to prove your pathetic, fragile masculinity in front of your 'true love'? Cat got your tongue, Mr. Sterling?" Brandon stood speechless, his face turning red. Seraphina looked equally humiliated. Her venomous glare suddenly drifted down to my wrist, catching sight of the priceless heirloom jade bangle. "Miss Lockhart, what a unique bangle." "I recall President Davenport dropping an insane fortune at an auction last month for something nearly identical. He was being so mysterious about it, saying it was a gift for an... 'exceptionally important' friend." I instantly caught the vile insinuation in her voice, but before I could shut her down, President Davenport hurried over. He stopped, bowing respectfully to me first: "Miss Lockhart." Once I gave him a subtle nod, Davenport turned to Brandon, his voice sharp with suppressed urgency and reprimand: "Young Sterling! What are you doing disturbing Miss Lockhart?" "The global summit is tomorrow, and thousands of eyes are watching! Do you have any idea who she... You dare harass her here? Have your men escort Miss Lockhart back to rest immediately!" Davenport meant to warn Brandon that I was an untouchable entity he couldn't afford to provoke. Yet to Brandon—blinded by jealousy and consumed by rage—those words confirmed his worst assumptions! Using the summit to threaten him? Warning him not to harass me? Ordering him to escort me home? Every word sounded like proof that Evelyn Lockhart and Marcus Davenport were having a dirty, illicit affair! "Ha!" Brandon let out a psychotic laugh, the last thread of his sanity snapping. He pointed a shaking finger right at Davenport’s face, his voice cracking with humiliation: "Davenport, I respected you as an elder in this industry! I haven't even settled the score with you for secretly sabotaging my business behind my back!" "And now you dare sleep with my woman?! Evelyn Lockhart is MY fiancée!"The moment those words left his mouth, I finally understood what kind of idiotic fantasy Brandon was living in. Before I could speak, President Davenport was so stunned by Brandon’s deranged accusation that he roared in disbelief: "Brandon Sterling, are you completely out of your mind?!" Seraphina saw her chance to fan the flames. She grabbed Brandon’s arm in a "panic" and whispered: "Brandon, calm down! Maybe President Davenport was just being generous! Maybe he bought it because Evelyn liked it! It's just... it's such an expensive gift, anyone would jump to conclusions..." "Jump to conclusions?!" Brandon exploded like a bomb. He shoved Seraphina aside and violently grabbed my wrist. The grip was so savage it made me gasp in pain! He reached down, trying to rip the jade bangle off my arm. "Flaunting the love token your sugar daddy bought you in broad daylight! What else is there to guess?!" "I’m going to smash this filthy thing to pieces!" I fought against his grip, my wrist throbbing. "Brandon, let go of me!" Davenport panicked and rushed forward to stop him: "Brandon, get a grip! This is a complete misunderstanding! That bangle belongs to—" Brandon didn't even let him finish. His other hand locked around the jade, yanking with brutal force! "I'll smash this trash first, then we can talk about misunderstandings!" "Don't you dare!" I screamed, my voice shaking with raw fury. "Watch me!" A wild, sadistic frenzy took over Brandon's eyes as he pulled with everything he had! CRACK—! A sharp, violent shattering sound tore through the ballroom. The heirloom jade bangle crashed against the polished marble floor. In a fraction of a second, it exploded into countless sharp fragments, scattering across the room. Almost the very instant the jade shattered, several imposing figures stepped out from the shadowy perimeter of the room. Moving with military precision, the undercover security team tackled Brandon and Seraphina, pinning their arms behind their backs in seconds! "What are you doing?! Let go of me! I'm Brandon Sterling!" Caught completely off guard, Brandon thrashed against the iron grips of the two operatives, his face twisting with rage and shock. "Did Davenport hire you?! He dares lay a finger on me?!" "This is MY event! How did outsiders sneak in?!" Seraphina lost all her composure, screaming at the top of her lungs: "Get off me! Do you have any idea who our families are?! Davenport put you up to this, didn't he?! He went this far for that little slut—" The lead security operative completely ignored their screeching. He turned to me, bowing his head to await my orders. I stood there, slowly opening my clenched fist. The sharp shards of jade had dug deep into my palm, drawing thin lines of bright red blood. "Confine them to their estates. Not a single step outside." Forced back to their homes under heavy surveillance, Brandon and Seraphina finally sensed that something was terrifyingly wrong. No matter how powerful Marcus Davenport was, he didn't possess the authority to place the heirs of both the Sterling and Price empires under house arrest. Did I have someone even bigger backing me? The next day, an even more catastrophic shockwave hit. Brandon’s father, who had been resting at a luxury medical resort in Switzerland, and Seraphina’s father, who had been on an urgent corporate trip to California, were both "escorted" back to New York on emergency private flights. They received only one message: Attend the international investment gala tonight without fail. Any tardiness will result in immediate consequences. That evening. Outside the grand gala venue, crimson carpets stretched into the distance. Elite politicians, global financiers, and titans of industry gathered in droves. Yet, a bizarre, suffocating tension hung over the air. Brandon and Seraphina were "permitted" to attend. Both looked as pale as corpses, their frantic confusion barely hidden beneath forced composure. Who on earth had they crossed? Brandon stood behind his father, his eyes glued to the arrival driveway. Just then, a sleek, unmarked black luxury sedan pulled up to the end of the red carpet. Before the door could even open, Brandon’s father practically sprinted toward the car. He respectfully pulled the rear door open, bowing deeply with an attitude of absolute subservience. Seraphina’s father hovered nervously on the other side, his face plastered with a desperate, flattering smile. A pair of exquisite designer heels slowly stepped onto the carpet. The moment I stood upright— "Evelyn Lockhart?! How the hell is it you?!"