The Abandoned Groom Married his Ex's Enemy!

Alexander Vance had always been generous with the Sebastians.

Sometimes that generosity came in cash, sometimes in gifts or opportunities, but perhaps the most valuable thing Alex had given them over the years was his time.

After their engagement was formally announced, there seemed to be increasingly less of it left for himself.

The closer Vance Holdings and Sebastian Group became, the more responsibilities somehow ended up on Alex’s desk. Dominic had gradually passed much of the work involving their joint projects to him, sometimes because he was busy and other times because Alex was simply better at handling the more complicated details.

Alex had accepted every additional responsibility wholeheartedly.

At the time, he’d simply thought Dominic wasn’t particularly cut out for that sort of work.

Besides, what was that saying again?

Happy partner, happy home?

Or something along those lines.

Apparently, while Alex was busy making sure their companies remained happy together, Dominic had decided to take responsibility for the actual home.

One of Alex’s properties had been chosen as the place they would eventually live after getting married, a large two-story villa in a quiet residential enclave just outside the central business district. It was private enough to feel removed from the city without being so far away that a daily commute became unreasonable.

Originally, the property had been a fairly ordinary upscale residence. Then Dominic decided their future marital home needed a complete renovation.

By the time he was finished choosing what he wanted and Alex was finished paying for it, very little about the place could still be called ordinary.

At least, that had been the theory.

Dominic practically took over the renovations.

He chose the furnishings, the wall colors, the lighting fixtures, and nearly everything else he thought belonged in their future home. Alex rarely contested any of it because, between the two of them, Dominic had always been the more artistic one.

Alex provided the property.

Dominic provided the vision.

And Alex, naturally, paid for the resulting home improvement.

Or home invasion.

Depending on who was asked.

There had been one afternoon when Dominic dragged him through several furniture stores to choose their bed.

”This one.”

Alex stared at the enormous king-sized bed Dominic had stopped beside.

”Are we planning to sleep or establish a small country on top of it?”

Dominic ignored him and pressed a hand against the mattress.

”Try it.”

”I trust you.”

”Alex.”

Knowing that tone, Alex sighed, sat down, and eventually lay back.

His eyebrows rose.

”Wow.”

”Exactly.”

Alex shifted slightly against the mattress.

That was unfortunate.

The thing was ridiculously comfortable.

It apparently used some newer memory-foam technology the salesman had spent several minutes enthusiastically explaining. Alex had stopped listening somewhere around adaptive pressure distribution, but whatever magic they stuffed inside the mattress certainly worked.

Dominic even spent an unreasonable amount of time testing pillows afterward, rejecting several because they were either too soft or didn’t provide enough neck support.

”You complain about your neck after working late,” he’d said while squeezing another pillow between his hands. ”Get this one.”

Alex had looked at him for a moment before smiling.

That was thoughtful.

Maybe Dominic really had been paying attention whenever Alex came home exhausted after spending twelve or fourteen hours hunched over paperwork.

Then Alex pointed toward a very expensive massage chair displayed near the bedroom furniture.

”I want that.”

”No.”

His smile disappeared.

”Why?”

”It’s ugly.”

”It massages you.”

”It looks like a spaceship seat.”

”It could look like an alien birthing pod for all I care. My back already loves it.”

”No.”

So much for thoughtfulness.

In the end, Dominic got his enormous bed, technologically advanced mattress, carefully selected pillows, and aesthetically pleasing bedroom.

Alex did not get his massage chair.

He paid for everything anyway.

Back then, it had been funny.

Standing inside that same house months later, Alex no longer found much of anything funny.

He hadn’t visited the property in more than a month.

Managing matters involving both Vance Holdings and Sebastian Group had forced him to spend most nights at his condominium closer to the business district. The drive from there to either office was considerably shorter, and when every hour seemed to matter, spending a large portion of his day sitting in traffic simply hadn’t made sense.

Dominic still came here frequently.

Alex knew that.

He just hadn’t realized Dominic apparently hadn’t been coming alone.

”Mr. Vance?”

The realtor standing beside him sounded uncertain.

Alex understood why.

The house was a mess.

Not destroyed, certainly, but noticeably in such a state of disarray that Alex immediately felt embarrassed, especially considering he still had household staff on the payroll.

There were glasses on tables that should’ve been cleared, clothing draped over furniture, and enough general disorder to suggest that no one had properly maintained the place for days.

Alex frowned.

”Where are the housekeepers?”

His assistant checked his phone. ”I’m finding out.”

Alex nodded and continued walking.

The first thing he noticed in the entryway was a pair of men’s slippers.

Not his.

Alex stopped.

They were smaller than his usual size.

He stared at them for two seconds before continuing.

Maybe Dominic had bought new ones.

Except Dominic’s slippers were beside them.

Right.

The living room offered more.

Two mugs sat on the coffee table.

One said, HONEY.

The other said, SWEETIE.

Alex stared.

His realtor became intensely interested in the ceiling.

Alex picked up the first mug and turned it around, as though perhaps some hidden explanation might be printed on the other side.

Nothing.

He put it down.

Dominic had never called him Honey.

Or Sweetie, for that matter.

Thank God.

Apparently, there were still some blessings left in his life.

”Continue,” Alex said.

They continued.

The downstairs bathroom contained another toothbrush.

Alex’s was black.

Dominic’s was dark blue.

The third was white.

Beside it sat a bottle of cologne Alex had smelled before but never owned.

He knew exactly where he’d smelled it too.

Andrew.

For several seconds, Alex simply stood there.

Then he quietly walked out.

Upstairs was worse.

The guest bedroom was immaculate.

The bed had been made so neatly that there wasn’t even a wrinkle on the duvet.

Alex stood at the doorway, looking inside.

Something about that bothered him.

He didn’t immediately understand why.