I married Veronica Hayes, the woman whose family destroyed mine. She thought she was setting a trap for a fool. She didn' t know she was walking into a decade of meticulous planning. Ten years ago, in college, I poured my soul into a painting, a raw, dark piece, a silent scream about my father' s story. She stopped in front of it with her entourage, a campus celebrity with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. "A starving artist," she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "How cliché. I bet he thinks this mess is profound." Laughter rippled around me. My face burned with humiliation, and I stood there, speechless, as she turned and walked away without a second glance. Then, three months ago, she reappeared in my dusty studio, a vision in a power suit that probably cost more than everything I owned. Her charisma filled the small space, and her smile was bright, almost blinding. "Alex Miller," she said. "I' ve been following your work. You' re incredibly talented." My paintbrush dripped onto the floor as I stared at her, saying nothing. She didn' t seem to mind. She walked through my studio, examining my art with intense interest. Finally, she turned back to me. "I have a proposal for you, Alex." I waited. "Marry me." The words hung in the air, absurd and thick. The woman who had publicly branded me a failure wanted to marry me. "And in return," she continued, "I' ll make you the CEO of one of my startups. A tech company. InnovateAI. You' ll have a salary, stock options, a place in the world. No more starving." She gestured around my studio, a faint pity in her eyes, a perfect performance. My friends all warned me. "It' s a trick, Alex." "She' s a shark. Remember college?" "No one just hands you a company for getting married. It' s insane." They were right, of course. It was insane. And it was a trick. I knew Veronica' s reputation: ruthless, manipulative, her father' s daughter. But they didn' t know my secret. They didn' t know I' d been waiting for an opportunity like this for a decade. I looked at Veronica, her eyes shining with false sincerity. I let a look of stunned, hopeful disbelief cross my face. My voice trembled just a little. "You' re serious?" "Completely," she said, her smile widening. "We need to do it quickly, though. A whirlwind romance. The board loves a good story. It' ll be a PR masterpiece for the company launch." I pretended to be overwhelmed, running a hand through my hair, letting out a shaky breath. "Yes," I said, my voice filled with manufactured excitement. "Yes, I' ll marry you." Her eyes lit up with victory. She thought she had me, the poor, struggling artist dazzled by wealth and power, ready to be her pawn. She had no idea that I was the one holding the board, and she had just handed me all the pieces I needed to win the game.
I married Veronica Hayes, the woman whose family destroyed mine.
She thought she was setting a trap for a fool.
She didn' t know she was walking into a decade of meticulous planning.
Ten years ago, in college, I poured my soul into a painting, a raw, dark piece, a silent scream about my father' s story.
She stopped in front of it with her entourage, a campus celebrity with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue.
"A starving artist," she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"How cliché. I bet he thinks this mess is profound."
Laughter rippled around me.
My face burned with humiliation, and I stood there, speechless, as she turned and walked away without a second glance.
Then, three months ago, she reappeared in my dusty studio, a vision in a power suit that probably cost more than everything I owned.
Her charisma filled the small space, and her smile was bright, almost blinding.
"Alex Miller," she said.
"I' ve been following your work. You' re incredibly talented."
My paintbrush dripped onto the floor as I stared at her, saying nothing.
She didn' t seem to mind.
She walked through my studio, examining my art with intense interest.
Finally, she turned back to me.
"I have a proposal for you, Alex."
I waited.
"Marry me."
The words hung in the air, absurd and thick.
The woman who had publicly branded me a failure wanted to marry me.
"And in return," she continued, "I' ll make you the CEO of one of my startups. A tech company. InnovateAI. You' ll have a salary, stock options, a place in the world. No more starving."
She gestured around my studio, a faint pity in her eyes, a perfect performance.
My friends all warned me.
"It' s a trick, Alex."
"She' s a shark. Remember college?"
"No one just hands you a company for getting married. It' s insane."
They were right, of course.
It was insane.
And it was a trick.
I knew Veronica' s reputation: ruthless, manipulative, her father' s daughter.
But they didn' t know my secret.
They didn' t know I' d been waiting for an opportunity like this for a decade.
I looked at Veronica, her eyes shining with false sincerity.
I let a look of stunned, hopeful disbelief cross my face.
My voice trembled just a little.
"You' re serious?"
"Completely," she said, her smile widening.
"We need to do it quickly, though. A whirlwind romance. The board loves a good story. It' ll be a PR masterpiece for the company launch."
I pretended to be overwhelmed, running a hand through my hair, letting out a shaky breath.
"Yes," I said, my voice filled with manufactured excitement.
"Yes, I' ll marry you."
Her eyes lit up with victory.
She thought she had me, the poor, struggling artist dazzled by wealth and power, ready to be her pawn.
She had no idea that I was the one holding the board, and she had just handed me all the pieces I needed to win the game.
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