He Traded Me for His Ex’s Dog, So I Married His Boss

On the day of my wedding dress fitting, the zipper got stuck on my back. But instead of helping me, Carter took a phone call and walked out of the massive bridal boutique, leaving me all by myself.

His excuse? His ex-girlfriends Samoyed, Cotton, was depressed and on a hunger strike. Carter just had to go and hand-feed him.

This was the seventh time this month he had abandoned me for that dog. All because of a ridiculous pact they made when they broke up: "Whenever the dog has an emotional breakdown, both "parents" must be present to comfort him."

I stared at myself in the mirror, looking like a total joke in a half-finished wedding gown. Finally, I dialed the number I had ignored for three long years.

"Damian Vance... does your offer from three years ago still stand?"

On the other end of the line, the most ruthless and cold-blooded billionaire in New Yorks elite circle spoke with a raspy, suppressed, and wild voice:

"Ten minutes. I'm coming to get you. Chloe, you walked into my trap this time. Don't even think about escaping for the rest of your life."

Later, Carter would kneel in the pouring rain, eyes bloodshot, begging me to look at him just one last time.

But Damian simply wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing the cold tip of his black umbrella against Carters chin. "Get lost. Don't dirty my wifes eyes."

The AC in the luxury bridal boutique was blasting, and goosebumps broke out across my bare back.

The zipper of the wedding dress was stuck right at my waist. I reached behind, straining my arms, but I couldn't pull it up no matter how hard I tried.

"Carter, can you help me?" I called out through the curtain of the fitting room.

No response.

I pushed the curtain open just a crack. Carter was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, on the phone. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedothe groom's suit we had just picked out yesterday.

Right now, his brows were tightly knit, his voice filled with a rare, anxious tenderness. "Melody, don't cry. Whats wrong with Cotton? Is he refusing to eat again?"

Hearing the names "Melody" and "Cotton," my fingers on the curtain froze. My fingertips turned a ghostly, bloodless white.

Melody. His ex-girlfriend.

Cotton. The Samoyed they adopted together.

"Okay, don't be scared. I'm on my way." Carter hung up, and as he turned around, his eyes met mine.

He paused for a second. A flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a calm, matter-of-fact look.

"Chloe, I have to go," he said, walking over. He didn't even glance at the million-dollar gown I was wearing. "Melody said Cotton has been on a hunger strike since last night.

Hes shivering under the couch. You know Article 28 of "The 36 Rules of Cottons Co-parenting" states that if the dog shows severe depressive symptoms, both owners must comfort him together."

That damn co-parenting agreement again.

This was the seventh time this month.

On the day we set our wedding date, he rushed off to sign a dental surgery consent form for Cotton. "Rule 5: Any medical intervention requires joint signatures."

On the day we did our wedding menu tasting, he left halfway through to buy a specific brand of goat milk powder. "Rule 15: Any dietary changes must be inspected by both parties in person."

On the day we mailed our wedding invitations, he spent the entire afternoon at Melodys apartment watching the rain with Cotton. "Rule 19: Thunderstorms require double companionship."

Every single time, he used that professional, business-like tone to tell me, "Chloe, I promised Melody when we broke up. Cotton is a living soul. I cant just abandon him. This is just a responsibility. Don't overthink it."

I stared at him, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with wet cardboard.

"Carter, today is our last dress fitting. The designer flew in all the way from Paris, and shes only staying for two hours." My voice was quiet, trembling with a pathetic weakness that made even me despise myself.

He reached out, habitually trying to ruffle my hair, but I jerked my head away.

His hand froze in mid-air. His brows furrowed deeper, his tone dripping with the impatience of a man used to getting his way.

"Chloe, you used to be so reasonable. We can reschedule the fitting. I can pay double to fly the designer back here. But Cotton is in critical condition right now. Hes not just a doghe is Melody's emotional support animal."

"And what about me?" I looked him dead in the eye. "Does that mean your fiance will always have to take a backseat to a dog and its owner?"

Carters face darkened. He hated it when I questioned him like this.

"I told you, its a responsibility. The agreement is in black and white. I can't break my word." He glanced at his Rolex, clearly losing his patience.

"Try the dress on by yourself first. Tell the designer if you want any changes. I'll pick you up later."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, pushing open the heavy glass doors of the boutique.

A wave of summer heat rushed in, only to be instantly swallowed by the cold AC.

I stood frozen, staring at the mirror. I looked like a complete jokewearing a gorgeous, expensive wedding dress with a zipper stuck halfway down my back.

The assistant walked over cautiously. "Miss Smith... do you want to keep trying?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, the last trace of moisture in my eyes had evaporated.

"No."

I reached behind and yanked the heavy gown down. The rough lace scratched my back, leaving angry red marks, but I didn't feel a thing.

"Miss Smith, about the remaining balance on this dress..."

"Cancel the order. Keep the deposit." I changed back into my own clothes, grabbed my purse, and spoke as calmly as if I were talking about the weather.

When I stepped out of the boutique, the harsh sunlight stung my eyes.

I pulled out my phone. I didn't text Carter to scream at him. I didn't post any depressing rants on Instagram.

I simply scrolled to the very bottom of my contact list, staring at the number I had blocked, unblocked in the dead of night, but never actually dialed.

Damian Vance.

The most untouchable man in the city. Ruthless, cold-blooded, and terrifying. He was also the man who, on a rainy night three years ago, had pinned me against an alley wall with bloodshot eyes, asking me in a broken voice, "Why can't you choose me?"

I pressed the call button.

It rang only once before he picked up.

No "hello," no casual greeting. Just heavy, ragged breathing, so intense I could almost feel the heat of a volcano ready to erupt through the screen.

"Damian," I said, my voice incredibly calm. "Does what you said three years ago still stand?"

Silence stretched for two seconds.

Then, the sharp "click" of a metal lighter echoed. The mans voice was incredibly raspy, dripping with a dark, obsessive passion.

"Chloe, do you have any idea what you're doing right now?"

"I do," I said, watching the traffic rush by. "I don't want to wait anymore. If you can..."

"Stay right there. Don't move," he cut me off brutally. I heard the loud crash of a chair flipping over and people gasping in the background.

"Ten minutes. Chloe, you walked into my life on your own this time. For the rest of your life, even if you die, youll die with my last name on your death certificate."

After hanging up, I took a cab back to the penthouse I shared with Carter.

The smart lock beeped, and the door swung open.

The living room was cluttered with wedding favors we hadn't sent out yet. I walked straight into the bedroom and pulled out a large black suitcase.

I didn't have much. When I first moved in, Carter had told me, "I'll buy you whatever you need. You just need to bring yourself."

Now I realized he just didn't want this place to have too many of my traces. After all, this place used to be his and Melody's home.

I had just finished packing a few everyday clothes when the front door opened.

Carter was back.

He carried a strong smell of veterinary disinfectant, mixed with a faint, sweet trace of Melodys perfume.

Seeing the open suitcase on the bed, he stopped in his tracks as he kicked off his shoes.

"What are you doing?" He walked in, his brow locked in a tight frown.

"Packing." I didn't even look up, throwing my toiletries into a makeup bag.

Carter took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. He walked over and grabbed my wrist.

"Chloe, have you had enough? It was bad enough that you threw a tantrum at the boutique, but now youre doing the whole run-away-from-home act?"

I yanked my hand out of his grip and looked at him coldly.

"Hows the dog? Not dead, I assume?"

"Chloe!" Carters voice raised, his eyes filled with disbelief. "When did you become so heartless? Cotton had acute gastroenteritis!

The vet said if I had arrived a step later, he would have gone into shock! Melody was crying so hard she couldn't even stand. Cant you show some compassion?"

I laughed. I laughed so hard tears almost came out of my eyes.

"Carter, your compassion is truly overflowing. So overflowing that you can abandon your fiance in a fitting room just to dry your ex-girlfriends tears."

I zipped my suitcase shut with a sharp, scraping sound.

"Im not throwing a tantrum, and Im not running away. Im just making room."

Carter stared at me, his chest heaving. He seemed to be trying to control his anger, trying to use his usual arrogant, condescending tone to put an end to my "childish behavior."

"Chloe, I know you feel hurt. But Ive explained this a thousand times. The co-parenting agreement was signed when Melody and I broke up.

Cotton was severely traumatized by our split back then. As a man, I have to take responsibility."

His tone softened, and he reached out, trying to hug me.

"Alright, don't be mad. I rescheduled the boutique. Tomorrow, Ill cancel all my meetings and spend the whole day with you at the fitting, okay?"

I took a step back, dodging his touch.

"No need." I pulled the cancellation receipt from my bag and tossed it onto the bed. "I cancelled the dress. They didn't refund the deposit. Consider it my donation to your dogs therapy."

Carters eyes fell on the receipt, his pupils shrinking instantly.

"You cancelled it? Who gave you permission?!" His voice finally cracked, revealing a hint of panic.

"Not just the dress," I said, looking at him calmly. "The venue, the caterer, the floristeverything I was in charge of, Ive cancelled. Carter, our wedding is off."

The air in the room froze.

Carter stared at me for a solid ten seconds before letting out a cold scoff.

"Chloe, youre threatening me with the wedding?" He loosened his tie, his eyes turning cold again. "Do you honestly think Ill buy into this?

You love me so much you threw away your dignity. Youve spent the last four years playing house and taking care of me like a maid. You really think you have the guts to leave?"

His words were like a rusty blade, slowly carving into my heart.

He was right. I had loved him so much. I loved him enough to tolerate him rushing over to Melodys at midnight because of a phone call.

I loved him enough to smile while helping him pick out dog food for that Samoyed. I had spent four years squeezing myself into the tiny cracks of their crowded, three-way relationship.

"I didn't have the guts before," I said, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. "But now? You just make me sick."

Carters face turned pale. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a grip tight enough to shatter my bones.

"Chloe! If you walk out of this door today, don't you dare think about coming back. Even if you beg me on your knees, I wont look at you again!"

Right then, a sharp, aggressive car horn honked from downstairs.

Three short honks, followed by two long blasts.

It was the distinct custom horn of a Maybachlow, arrogant, and commanding.

I shook off Carters hand and dragged my suitcase toward the door.

"You won't have to look at me ever again. Because someone is already here to pick me up."