Oops! I Married His Nemesis - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Dad had just closed a ten-million-dollar deal and made his entrance right on schedule, sliding into the conversation effortlessly:
"Damn right. A woman of my daughter's caliber deserves nothing but the best."
He waved off the rumors with a dismissive laugh. "Those three? Charity cases. Took 'em in as kids because they had nowhere else to go. This whole 'groom training' nonsense? Total bullshit."
Despite Dad's smooth delivery, I saw the doubt flicker across our guests' faces.
His country club buddies weren't buying it either.
"Come on, Montclair—Hextor's pedigree is solid, but after that wreck..."
"Let's cut the crap. The guy's wheelchair-bound. Your daughter marries him, there's no heir. Who takes over when you kick the bucket?"
A particularly crude golf buddy snorted. "We get it—no woman can run Montclair alone. But Jesus, couldn't you at least find her a guy who can get it up?"
On paper, Hextor was DC aristocracy. In reality? Damaged goods. Everyone knew his family's empire would wind up in someone else's hands eventually.
Might as well be mine.
When Jasper had dropped his little bombshell earlier, it hit me like a slap: even as the sole Montclair heir, nobody actually believed the company would stay under my control.
Fine. If that's how they wanted to play, I'd pick a partner powerful enough to matter—but physically incapable of stealing what was mine.
Across the room, Jasper was playing white knight to Doria's fake trauma when his phone buzzed. His face darkened as he read:
[GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE NOW! Charlotte just announced her engagement! You're gonna want to see this!]
Griffin and Finn got identical alerts from their own connections.
Jasper almost dismissed it—until that itch of curiosity won out. Why would he regret missing this?
Had I actually chosen one of the other two?
After side-eyeing both guys, he finally texted back: [Who'd she pick?]
The photo that came through wiped all expression from his face.
Griffin and Finn's reactions were perfectly synchronized: "You've gotta be shitting me!"
"Charlotte picked the wheelchair prince?"
"No fucking way!"
Doria, still clinging to Jasper like a limpet, couldn't quite smother her smug grin before dialing up the waterworks again:
"She's just trying to get under your skin. You all left because of me—she's probably furious."
Her voice trembled on cue. "You should go back. I'll... I'll be fine alone."
A single tear rolled down her cheek—the Oscar-worthy performance instantly melting their resolve.
Griffin, never one for subtlety, barked out a laugh. "Relax. This is classic Charlotte drama. I'll believe she's marrying that trust-fund vegetable when I see it. Ten bucks says she comes crawling back before the wedding, begging one of us to save her."
Jasper's shoulders relaxed.
Right. I'd been trailing after him like a lovesick puppy for years. No way I'd actually marry a paraplegic just because he skipped one party.
Doria watched Jasper's face carefully. When she saw the gears turning, something ugly flashed in her eyes.
"This is all my fault," she whimpered. "Even after she sent those men after me... I never should've gone to her party."
A fresh sob. "What if she convinces her dad to cut you off? I can't be the reason you lose everything!"
All three faces darkened at once.
Nothing pissed them off faster than reminders of who signed their checks.
Griffin's jaw clenched. "I've got skills. Don't need their damn money."
Jasper stroked Doria's hair like she was some wounded bird. "Stop worrying. Charlotte can't run Montclair alone. She'll be begging us to come back and take the reins within a month."
His voice hardened. "This is on her, not you. If she hadn't tried to hurt you, we wouldn't have walked out and humiliated her today."
They thought they'd just bruised my ego. Had no clue what was coming next.
After fidgeting for five solid minutes, Jasper finally caved and texted me:
[You're being ridiculous. Don't throw your life away marrying some broken rich boy just to spite me. Apologize to Doria, and I'll still marry you.]
He could already picture my tearful relief when I saw his message—my supposed knight in shining armor tossing me a lifeline.
Instead, his screen flashed red.
Not only had I deleted his contact—I'd blocked his number completely.