I Married My Fiancees Paralyzed Sister
Language: en
At the annual Met Gala-style charity auction, I wore the exact same bespoke tuxedo as my fiancée’s personal assistant. Chase stood across from me, a smug, barely suppressed snicker pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, Lucas," he whispered, loud enough for the nearby photographers to catch. "You’re supposed to be a man of pedigree. Why on earth are you wearing a knockoff? And a cheap, bargain-bin replica at that?" Cassandra, my fiancée, stared at me with unmasked disgust. "Your attire is utterly embarrassing tonight, Lucas. Chase, you’ll be my escort for the evening." I stood perfectly…