After I Left My Cheating Fiancé, He Lost Everything

My sister and I both had a thing for older men.

My fiancé, Tristram James, was the untouchable prince of the capital's elite circle—cold, refined, and impossibly out of reach. Sandra Sullivan's fiancé, Rodney Henson, was the opposite kind of dangerous: domineering, ruthless, and volatile enough that people crossed the street to avoid him.

Everyone envied us. The Sullivan twins, they said, had tamed an iceberg and a beast.

Until the night before we were supposed to sign the marriage certificate.

I went to the bridal suite to pick up our household documents.