Couture Heist: I Cancelled the Wedding

After completing my studies overseas, it's time for me to marry Cynthia Norton, my childhood sweetheart.

But on the day I'm supposed to pick up the wedding tuxedo, I see my tuxedo, which is a custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars, being worn by Theodore Hasting, the low-income student Cynthia is currently sponsoring.

When I demand that the tuxedo be returned, I get called the homewrecker instead. People even mock me for being a boy toy who wants to take the shortcut by clinging to a rich woman.

Cynthia tells me Theodore has never experienced wearing a wedding tuxedo before, so she wants me to graciously give him the chance.

I like doing charity work the most. Since I can give a million-dollar wedding tuxedo away, I should just give the marriage contract away too.

Then again, not anyone can simply accept the marriage contract meant for me, the heir of the Emerson family.

"Where did this beggar come from? Who said you could touch my tuxedo?"

With the wedding approaching, I went to check out my custom-made tuxedo.

However, as soon as I had it in my hands, a foppish young man suddenly slapped me across the face and snatched the tuxedo away.

He slapped me again and yelled, "You lowlife! You've dirtied my tuxedo. You'll pay for this! Do you have any idea how much this tuxedo costs? You couldn't afford it even if you sold yourself!"

I stood there in shock.

Right then, the supervisor rushed over and apologized obsequiously to the young man.

"Mr. Norton, I'm terribly sorry. The new staff member didn't know that was your tuxedo, so he gave it to someone else."

The young man called Mr. Norton was now whining on the phone to someone he kept calling "honey".

"Honey, some beggar dirtied my tuxedo. What should I do? Honey, this was the tuxedo you had custom-made just for me!"

The phone was on speaker mode, and a voice I knew all too well came through the other end.

"There, now. Just have them redo the dirty part, and it'll be as good as new. You shouldn't let this stress you out."

Wasn't that the voice of my fiancee, Cynthia Norton?

I'd heard rumors that Cynthia had gotten close to some pretty boy while I was studying abroad.

I'd asked her several times, but she always denied it, insisting there had never been another man.

I even asked her parents, and they dismissed it as baseless gossip—just some minor celebrities trying to stir up attention by claiming a wealthy patron.

My family had arranged this marriage with the Norton family years ago, with the wedding set to take place as soon as I returned from abroad.

For this very reason, my mother, Sandra Logan, had commissioned a world-class designer to create custom wedding attire for Cynthia and me.

Yet now, the measurements of this tuxedo turned out to be someone else's.

The moment I took the tuxedo, I realized the measurements