After I paid nearly everything for my sister’s wedding, she stood in front of our relatives and tore my invitation in half. “You’ll only ruin my perfect day,” my parents clapped in agreement.

in the bridal suite.

I knew Marcus had called Ashley.

I could picture her sitting in a silk robe while her hair and makeup team worked around her, expecting the estate manager to confirm some final detail.

Instead, she had just learned that her supposedly free $120,000 estate now had an $80,000 balance due immediately.

Ashley had spent a year selecting premium linens, imported wine, exact shades of ivory flowers, and every luxury upgrade she could request.

But she had never signed the master contract.

Never supplied the