My fiancé left me at the altar for being poor—until his brother exposed the truth in front of everyone and turned the entire wedding upside down.

PART 1

My name is Serafina Cross, and on the morning I was meant to become Mrs. Alexander Whitmore, my mother slapped me across the face inside the bridal suite.

Not hard enough to ruin the makeup, but hard enough that every bridesmaid in the room forgot how to breathe.

“Do not embarrass this family,” she whispered, her diamond bracelet trembling against continue reading …