Chapter 2

The plane landed in Harbor Point. I turned my phone on, and the video was already everywhere.

There I was on the lawn, on my knees with the broom, sweeping confetti off the runner while the four of them stood over me. Whoever edited it had left the audio in too—"Hey, cleaning lady."

Nobody knew I was Elliot Vance's wife.

Then two photos went up, with my handle attached.

One of me holding the broom. One of me picking up Vivian's phone.

The caption read: "The woman in the photo was part of the day-of cleanup crew. After the ceremony, she stole a guest's phone—probably hunting for something private to leak."

They descended on my account within minutes.

"Thief."

"Can't stand to see anyone else happy."

I documented everything and sent it to Adrian.

Then I posted our marriage certificate with the identifying numbers redacted, the estate's lost-and-found log, and the full screen recording of the group chat.

Not just the three of them betting on me. Elliot's reply too — the one where he called me a gold digger who'd never walk away.

Someone in the comments asked: "Wait. The woman on her knees with the broom is his WIFE?"

A second later, my post was gone.

The platform notice said: "Removed following coordinated privacy complaints from all four parties."

Elliot called.

"Did you post the certificate and the chat?"

"Yes."

I looked at the takedown notice. "How are you planning to handle this?"

"Comms will say you were hired for the day, that you have feelings for me, and that you forged the marriage certificate."

I laughed out loud. "You're going to publicly call me a liar—for three women you've been sleeping with."

Silence on the line.

"Be reasonable. If I confirm you're my wife, they'll be branded homewreckers."

"You have the name and you have the account. Nobody can take either one from you. That's enough."

"Once the statement goes out, this ends here."

He hung up.

Half an hour later, Vance Group issued a statement under the company's name:

"Nora Sutton was aware of the arrangements in advance and participated in carrying them out voluntarily. The group chat was a joke between friends. Please stop circulating it."

It didn't confirm our marriage.

It didn't explain why they'd been betting on me.

Everyone who had started to believe me turned around and came back for another round.

"So she really was crew. Almost fell for it."

He knew I was his legal wife.

He'd rather leave me branded a thief than let Margot and the others be branded homewreckers.

Three days later, the wedding he'd promised me went ahead at the estate anyway: flowers, an officiant, and two hundred chairs on the lawn.

No bride.

I sent the million back that same afternoon. Nothing of his was going to sit in my account.

A week after that, Vance Group announced the foundation gala would open with a clarification segment.

The event operations director called me himself.

"Ms. Sutton, Mr. Vance has confirmed your appearance in the pre-show clarification."

"My what?"

"The three women will remove their rings onstage. You'll put them back on and announce that you accept what happened that day."

He paused. "There's also a statement for you to read."

It hit my phone a minute later.

"I, Nora Sutton, acted out of jealousy and published private communications without authorization. I apologize to Mr. Vance and to the three ladies."

One more line at the bottom: "Approved by: Elliot Vance."