On The Eve Of My Brother’s Luxurious Wedding, My Millionaire Husband Yelled At Me And Walked Out, Telling Me I Wasn’t Good Enough For Him. To My Surprise, He Showed Up At The Wedding With His Ex, Parading Her Like A Trophy. He Told Me, “You’re Insignificant Compared To Her.” I Smiled And Uttered Three Words, And Then:THE BASTARD WAS CARRIED OUT ON A STRETCHER.

“Nice?”

He shook his head like I’d suggested wearing pajamas to the White House. “Amber, when you’re with me, you’re representing my success. Right now, you look completely forgettable.

These people notice everything. Your clothes, your makeup, your posture. They judge me based on you.”

The weight of that statement hit me like a physical blow.

I wasn’t his wife anymore. I was his business card. “Maybe I could change into something else,” I offered, hating myself for the pleading tone in my voice.

“Into what? Your entire wardrobe screams safe and boring. You dress like you’re trying to disappear instead of trying to impress.”

He grabbed his keys from the entry table.

The Porsche keys that cost more than some people make in a month. “You know what? I can’t deal with this right now.

I’m going to the office to prepare for tomorrow’s meetings.”

“But we were supposed to have dinner.”

“I’ll eat at the club. Figure out how to look like you actually belong in my world by tomorrow, Amber. Because right now you’re a liability I can’t afford.”

The door slammed behind him with enough force to rattle the crystal chandelier above my head.

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