I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

‘No and no, though I wouldn’t mind giving my firstborn and last and my soul and all my tomorrows for a glimpse of the Pink Star.’

I drooled at the thought of touching the 59.60-carat, vivid pink, flawless diamond.

‘Any plans tonight? Why do I even ask?’ Yvaine waved off her own question. ‘Let me guess. Candlelit dinner by the bay, live string quartet in the background. I know, I know. I won’t be the third wheel.’

I said nothing.

Actually, no, I didn’t have any plans tonight.

Ashton hadn’t said anything when I left the house this morning.

And so far, half the day had passed without a message from him.

Maybe he thought the share transfer agreement had said ‘happy birthday’ loud and clear.

By evening, Priya and Daniel packed up and left.

Yvaine got a call and dashed off in her ridiculous boots, leaving the studio dead quiet.

I shut my laptop, stacked the loose sketch sheets, reached for the light switch—

And stopped.