When the doors of City Hall closed behind me in the pouring rain, my heart died with them. My phone lit up with messages from my college alumni group. My fiancé's childhood sweetheart, Nina Bennett, had just sent everyone a huge digital gift and said, "Thanks for witnessing this! Even on the day he was supposed to marry his fiancée, he still chose to pick me up from the airport first." My fiancé, Evan Sullivan, replied, "The Grant family's company still needs me to secure investors. Letting Sophie suffer a little isn't a big deal. Nina matters more." I had spent seven years standing by him while he built his business from nothing. Yet in his eyes, I was nothing more than a disposable pawn he could manipulate whenever it benefited him. Thirty minutes later, I changed into my evening gown and pushed open the doors to our engagement party. Evan was charming the older generation with talk of our families' future partnership, casually explaining that he had been late that afternoon because of an "urgent business matter." I walked straight to the control booth, pulled out his flash drive, and projected our private messages—and my declaration that I was withdrawing my family's investment—onto the giant screen. Evan's smile froze. He gritted his teeth and hissed under his breath, "Have you lost your mind? You're going to destroy the company's entire financial chain over something this trivial?" "My company's affairs are none of your concern, Mr. Sullivan." In front of everyone, I tore our marriage alliance agreement to pieces. Then I turned and walked toward the man sitting alone in the corner—a world-class cardiac surgeon whose family had threatened to suspend him from work if he refused to attend their matchmaking arrangement. "Reid." I raised my glass, meeting his utterly unreadable eyes. "You need a wife who won't give you trouble. I need a ready-made husband. I'll put up the money. Let's make this marriage happen. City Hall opens tomorrow morning. Are you brave enough to go with me?"