The Billionaire She Left Ten Times
I told her, seriously, that if she called it off again, I would go home and marry someone from an approved family, someone who could deliver on a commitment.
She just laughed, completely unconcerned. Rhys, you transplanted your bone marrow for me. How could you possibly marry anyone else? She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Besides, who else would take on a bitter old bachelor like you?
On the morning of our tenth wedding attempt, Dane sent her a photo: a key card to a secluded Springs Resort suite. His accompanying challenge was simple: if she could find him there in three hours, hed agree to be my groomsman.
Savannahs face instantly changed. She tore off her veil and sprinted out of the ballroom.
Three hours later, Dane posted a photo to his feed: the two of them, half-submerged in a steaming outdoor spa, watching fireworks explode over the mountains. The caption read: The people who truly care will always find a way to get to you, no matter where you are.
I silently stripped off my tuxedo. Then, I pulled out a number I hadnt dialed in years.
Eleanor Vaughn, I said, my voice steadying. That promise you made to marry me, is it still good?
A choked, excited gasp came from the other end of the line.
Of course, its good, Rhys. For you, that promise is good for a lifetime.
1
A wave of embarrassed silence washed over the high-society guests in the ballroom. Even among this cynical crowd, the awkwardness was palpable.
Someone muttered, Mr. Harding has wasted seven years on Ms. Sinclair. This is beyond reckless. How can she ditch him every time for a glorified platonic friend?
Seriously. He gave her so much. Bone marrow, for Gods sake. He was even disowned by his grandfather because of her.
They looked at me with pity. Even strangers knew Savannah had gone too far.
Mrs. Sinclair, Savannahs mother, rushed up to me, grasping my arm tightly. Rhys, darling, you need to explain! Tell everyone there was a massive crisis at Sinclair Enterprises and Savannah had to run. Just start the dinner service now.
I looked down at the woman who always claimed to treat me like a son. The anger was a slow burn in my chest.
Mrs. Sinclair, do you think everyone here is stupid? That is the exact story Ive told nine times already.
Her face hardened, and her tone turned sharp. Well, youve said it nine times. Whats the harm in one more? She leaned closer. Unless, of course, all those grand promises you made about loving Savannah were nothing but lies?
Her self-righteous indignationthe absolute belief that it was perfectly normal for me to be treated like a total foolwas staggering.
The memories flashed back, a quick-cut montage of humiliation. Our wedding dates had been a joke ever since Dane Foster, her childhood 'man-bestie,' returned to the States three years ago.
Every single time, she took Danes bait. Every time, she lost.
The first wedding: She drank her "last single-life cocktail" with Dane, overslept, and we had to postpone.
The second: She lost a bet and literally gave Dane the wedding venue to host his ridiculous, scantily-clad rave. The guests were shell-shocked.
The third...
Each time, she offered the same weak excuse: Rhys, Dane just got dumped. Hes heartbroken and needs me. As his best friend, I cant abandon him now.
My hands clenched into fists. They chose our wedding day, every time, to play their games and she never won. Did they truly think I was that blind?
As Mrs. Sinclair continued to prattle on with her condescending advice, the grand doors burst open. Savannah walked in, composed and beautiful, her arm intimately looped through Danes.
Rhys, I lost the bet again, she announced to the room, a faux-apologetic look on her face. It took me three hours and one minute to find Dane. You wouldnt put me in a difficult position, would you? She glanced at the clock. The auspicious hour is long gone. Well just have to pick a new date.
Then, standing directly in front of Dane, she calmly took off the remaining part of her dress and dropped it, along with a framed wedding portrait, directly into a passing trash receptacle.
A collective gasp swept the room. The sheer contempt in the act made the guests look at me with fresh sympathy. The heir to the powerful Harding family, treated as nothing more than an inconvenient afterthought.
I met Danes eyes, which were shining with smug satisfaction. I let out a cold laugh.
Savannah, how about we make a bet? I asked. Lets bet on the eleventh wedding. Will you lose that one, too?
She rolled her eyes, her gaze full of boredom. Rhys Harding, betting is a special tradition between me and Dane. Dont try to join the fun.
I paused, letting the silence hang heavy.
The bet is this, I said slowly. I bet on the day of the eleventh wedding, Sinclair Enterprises will be bankrupt.
Savannahs face drained of color. Rhys Harding! Just because I didnt marry you today, youre cursing my family? She sneered. No wonder Dane says youre just an old loser who only knows how to threaten people with favors and guilt.
Rage finally snapped the chain. I couldn't keep the roar in. If you were sleeping with Dane, just admit it and marry him! Stop playing these pathetic, idiotic games to humiliate me!
Dane instantly flared up, his face turning beet-red. Mr. Harding, how dare you! Savannah and I have been best friends since we were kids. Dont you dare taint our connection!
He stepped closer, then leaned in, whispering into my ear, his breath hot and disgusting. Rhys, after being dumped ten times, do you really have the nerve to stand here and beg like a dog? If I were you, Id have taken the hint and left already. He chuckled, a venomous sound. The truth is, Savannah always said you were useless. Couldn't satisfy her even once.
He pulled back, feigning exasperation for the crowd. Savannah, last time you lost a bet, you said you were going to shred Mr. Hardings suit and use it as a rag for the dog. I didnt take it seriously, so why is Mr. Harding making such a scene?
Savannah gave him a soft, affectionate smile, grabbed a pair of shears from a nearby centerpiece, and handed them to him.
I honor my bets, Dane. Go ahead. I cant break my word in front of family.
I stared at Savannah, utterly frozen in disbelief. In that moment, she was a total stranger.
She placed the scissors in Danes hand and spoke to me with chilling indifference. Rhys, its just a suit. Dont be such a drama queen.
The custom-tailored wedding suit, a masterpiece my late grandmother had personally commissioned, was savagely sliced to ribbons.
Dane grabbed a handful of the silk, his eyes glittering with disdain. Savannah, didnt you say this was made by a famous designer? It looks even worse than our dogs rag. He contemptuously tossed the shreds into the nearest trash bin.
Savannah patted his arm, a gentle gesture of appeasement. Okay, okay, you dont like it. Well buy you something better tomorrow.
I watched the two of them, the bile rising in my throat. I lashed out with every ounce of strength I had, hitting Dane squarely on the jaw.
Then, I snatched the shears from the table and plunged them deep into his chest.
My hand was instantly soaked in blood.
Dane gasped and staggered backward, clutching his wound as he collapsed into Savannahs arms.
The ballroom erupted in chaos.
Hes killed him! Call the police!
I stood there, gasping for breath, my body shaking uncontrollably.
Savannah, I asked, looking into her panicked eyes. Are you satisfied with this bet?
This was the first time I had ever seen genuine terror on her face.
She gripped Dane tighter, shoved me away with her foot, and screamed, Call 911!
Then, she looked down at me, her eyes arctic cold, filled with pure revulsion. Rhys Harding, no wonder your father left and your mother killed herself! You deserve to be miserable. You dont deserve anyones love.
Her words were a frozen blade. My blood ran cold, and a thousand needles pierced my heart. She knew my most vulnerable spot, the ultimate wound. She had targeted it perfectly.
I collapsed onto the floor, defeated and wretched.
The paramedics arrived. Savannah helped load Dane onto the gurney. As they wheeled him out, she paused, giving me one final, icy glance.
Rhys, you hurt Dane. This isnt over.
The guests silently filed out, shaking their heads in disgust. My tenth wedding had ended in bloodshed.
I sat there for a long time, the silence growing heavier until the last person was gone and the police arrived.
Are you Rhys Harding? We received a report of aggravated assault. You need to come with us.
I managed a bitter, humorless laugh. Savannah called you, didnt she?
The officer nodded.
In the interrogation room, I numbly recounted the entire process and my motive. The detective looked at my disheveled state with pity.
Mr. Harding, why stay devoted to a woman who treated you like this? Why hang yourself on one rotten branch?
I looked at the officer, the question echoing in my mind. Why?
Was it because I was drowning in the undertow, and she had once offered me the illusion of a lifeline?
When I was fifteen, my mother, consumed by depression, jumped from a rooftop. I became the parentless outcast overnight. Months later, my father remarried. They were instantly a happy family of three. My stepmother hated me, making it clear I was never welcome in that house. I was an outsider.
I was shivering, starving, and close to collapsing on the street that day when Savannah found me. She held me, comforted me, and gave me the courage to keep going. My love for her wasnt just romance; she was the single anchor in my drowning world.
A few hours later, Savannah returned with a limping Dane.
When questioned by the police, she fixed me with a hostile glare. We will not settle this. He needs to be prosecuted to the full extent. He was violent even as a kid. If we dont teach him a lesson now, hell become a killer.
Dane, his head held high, looked at me with open provocation.
The police officer sighed, pulling me aside. Mr. Harding, Ms. Sinclair is still your fiance. Go apologize. This whole thing can go away. He looked at me meaningfully. Dont let pride ruin your life. If they press charges, youre looking at serious time. Can you survive that?
I gritted my teeth, the gravity of the situation crushing me, and reluctantly agreed.
I followed the officer back into the room, swallowing my shame. I lowered my head.
Im sorry. I acted on impulse. I apologize and Ill make restitution. Please, forgive me.
Dane looked utterly unimpressed. Mr. Harding, its not that I dont want to forgive you. But a narrow-minded, malicious snake like you needs to be punished, or you really will hurt someone badly one day.
The stress of the day, combined with my chronic stomach issues, sent a wave of agonizing abdominal pain through me. My face broke out in a cold sweat.
Seeing my obvious physical distress, Savannahs voice softened momentarily. Dane, how about this? Ill make him apologize by bowing and swearing on his grandmothers grave that if he ever threatens you again, they can both burn in the lowest circle of hell. She snapped her head toward me. Now, kneel down and apologize to Dane until hes satisfied.
The police officer, clearly wanting the conflict resolved, pushed me hard from behind. With a dull thud, I landed on my knees.
Savannah grabbed my head and slammed it against the polished floor. Once. Twice. Thrice...
Blood streamed from my forehead, blurring my vision.
After what felt like an eternity, Danes voice, now bored, cut through the agony. Thats enough, Savannah. Fine. Ill let it go for your sake. But if this ever happens again, I wont be so lenient.
Savannah instantly let go of me and hurried to support him. Dont worry, Dane. As long as Im here, he wont lay a finger on you again.
They started walking out. Just before they passed through the door, Savannah turned back.
Go home and think about what youve done, Rhys. When you truly understand your mistake, we can talk about the wedding again. She gave me a final, contemptuous glance. You are completely useless. You really need to learn something from Dane.
I scoffed. She had forgotten the seven years Id spent building Sinclair Enterprises from a nobody to a powerhouse. She had forgotten that Id sold the last asset my grandmother left meour family hometo provide the capital for her companys IPO. She had forgotten that I gave her my own bone marrow.
Stumbling out of the precinct, I doubled over, clutching my throbbing abdomen, and immediately headed to the nearest hospital.
The attending physician was furious when he saw my bloodied, disheveled state.
Mr. Harding, you are a fool! You know you have severe complications from the transplant. Your heart is overloaded! You should be resting in bed!
He immediately ordered a battery of tests.
I took the stack of requisition forms and headed toward the fourth floor. As I passed a private room, I heard two familiar voices.
I instinctively stopped and peered inside. Savannah was carefully helping Dane settle onto the bed.
Savannah, Dane said, his voice laced with suspicion. You tricked Rhys into giving you his bone marrow by faking a serious illness, and then you kept dragging out the wedding. You wouldnt scheme against me like that, would you?
Dont be silly, my darling. Of course not. You are the only person I truly love.
Then she lowered her voice, but I heard every word.
I pushed his mother off that roof, Dane. All those years ago. I did it because I wanted to shatter all his reliance so hed only have me. Robert Harding only has one son; eventually, the estate is all Rhyss. Once I get the money, Ill ditch him and marry you.
The world exploded into a high-pitched ringing silence. My mother didnt jump. She was murdered. By Savannah.
Tears streamed down my face. I stumbled back to my own room, locking the door.
After hours of staring blankly at the ceiling, I finally grabbed my phone and made the call.
Eleanor, Im ready to move forward and marry you abroad. But I have one condition. Sinclair Enterprises must be annihilated. I want Savannah Sinclair back on the bottom rung where she started.
A delighted, utterly composed voice answered instantly.
Consider it done. Im flying back now, Rhys. Wait for me.
The next morning, I woke up, opened my phone, and saw the breaking news: Sinclair Enterprises Faces Mass Contract Breach as Overseas Conglomerate Launches Aggressive Market Attack: Stock Plummets.
As I lay there, processing the carnage, my door was pushed open. A striking, coolly beautiful woman strode in, bringing a blast of cold air with her.
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