Part 2: She laughed over the phone when security turned me away from her lavish wedding, unaware that the small envelope I left at the door contained the deed to her venue.

Julian turned on Lauren with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You had the deed?" he snarled, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You had the title to the entire Monarch building in your hands, and you read the card like a joke to mock him?"

"Julian, I didn't know!" Lauren wailed, cowering from him. "He never told us! How was I supposed to know he had that kind of money?!"

"Because you never bothered to ask!" Julian roared, completely ignoring the fact that we were standing in the middle of a Belltown alleyway. "You spent six months bragging about your family’s estates, your investments, your high-society connections! My father put his entire reputation on the line because we thought your family could stabilize our debt! And you’re nothing! You’re broke, and you just threw away forty million dollars in equity to impress a bunch of bridesmaids who don't even like you!"

Julian tore off his platinum wedding band and hurled it into the puddle at her feet.

"Julian, no! Don't do this! We just got married!" Lauren screamed, lunging for him, but he shoved her away with enough force that she stumbled back into the mud.

"The marriage license hasn't been filed with the county clerk yet," Julian spat, retreating toward the Mercedes. "My father already had the lawyers draft the annulment papers while you were crying in the bathroom. We’re done, Lauren. You and your miserable, bankrupt mother can figure out how to pay for the reception yourselves."

The engine roared to life. Julian threw the car into reverse, tires spinning against the asphalt, leaving Lauren standing alone under the harsh glare of the alley streetlights.

Her dress was ruined. Her hair was matted with rain. Her new husband had abandoned her on the pavement, and the cold was beginning to settle deep into her bones.

She turned back toward the steps, trembling, looking up at me like a stray dog begging for scraps.

"Luke..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please. I have nowhere to go. Julian took the car keys. Mom’s credit cards were declined at the hotel. They won't even let her take her luggage out of the bridal suite."

I looked at her for a long moment. There was no rage left in me, only an overwhelming sense of finality.

"There is an all-night diner two blocks down," I said quietly. "They have hot coffee. It’s four dollars a cup."

"I don't have any money," she sobbed.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out a crisp ten-dollar bill, and dropped it onto the top step.