When He Broke Our Engagement, I Married His Enemy

On our wedding day, Lily, the apple of Patrick Luther's eye, tried to kill herself.

I grabbed onto his sleeve. "Please don't go."

He pried my fingers off, one by one. "Don't make a scene. Lily needs me right now."

I watched him walk away, laughing until my eyes turned red.

If you don't love me, then I'm done with you.

“Patrick, this time I'm the one leaving you."

The day we buried Grandpa, the sky was gray and overcast. A lot of people showed up.

My friend tugged at my sleeve. "Patrick's here."

I smirked bitterly. A whole month had passed since he'd run out on our wedding. I'd honestly thought he might be dead somewhere by now.

His deep voice cut through the air. "I'm sorry I'm late."

I slowly turned around and, with everyone watching, raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The slap knocked Patrick's head to the side. He looked annoyed. "Hannah Spencer, that's enough."

I stared at him coldly. "Get on your knees!"

The Luther family's golden boy, born with everything handed to him—there was no way he'd kneel. He walked straight to Grandpa's grave and set down the flowers he'd brought.

"Mr. Spencer, I'll keep the promise I made to you. Rest in peace."

"Ha ha ha..." I laughed bitterly. "So you do remember what you promised Grandpa."

The Spencer and Luther families went way back. We'd grown up together, childhood sweethearts.

Everyone knew I loved him with everything I had.

I loved him so much I followed him abroad for college, joined his company as his secretary. He finally admitted I was his girlfriend.

But it was never a secret that he kept another woman on the side.

Three months ago, Grandpa got seriously ill.

Patrick went to visit him. They made a deal at his bedside—if we got married, that prime piece of land in the south district would come with me as part of the arrangement.

That land was worth a fortune, with huge development potential. Patrick agreed.

He promised he'd treat me well and give me the wedding of the century.

After he left that day, I broke down crying at Grandpa's bedside. "Grandpa, I won't marry him. I'll stay with you. You have to get better."

Grandpa struggled to lift his hand and stroke my head. "When I'm gone, only he can protect you. I need to know you'll be happy before I can rest easy."

My parents died in a plane crash when I was five. I'd lived with Grandpa ever since.

Once he was gone, the company and massive inheritance he'd leave behind would put me in serious danger.

Patrick was the man Grandpa had chosen to protect me—and he'd profit hugely from it too.

Grandpa thought that between the money and all our years together, Patrick would be good to me.

Grandpa was wrong.

I looked at the man in front of me—black suit, sharp features, that elegant bearing. Everything I used