Ava unexpectedly falls for the man her parents arranged for her to marry. But when unsettling rumors about him surface days before their wedding, she devises a test to uncover his true intentions.
Ava caught her breath as she gazed at Walter, the man her parents had arranged for her to meet. He rose from his seat, impeccably dressed in a sleek suit that showcased his athletic build, his blue eyes sparkling under the elegant lighting.
Ava’s heart fluttered as he smiled and helped her to her seat.
“Ava, meet Walter, my son,” his mother said.
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“What do you think?” whispered Ava’s mother, Hilda, noticing her daughter’s reddened cheeks.
The families sat at a grand dining table in a restaurant, the air filled with apprehension and anticipation. Ava, initially resistant to this arranged meeting, found herself unexpectedly drawn to Walter. His gentlemanly demeanor throughout the dinner and subsequent meetings only deepened her admiration for him.
So a few weeks later, when he went down on one knee and proposed, she didn’t think twice before saying yes.
“I’ll marry you!” she exclaimed as Walter slid a diamond ring onto her finger.
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The wedding was set, and with only a few weeks to go, Ava and her friend Hillary went to a boutique to pick a wedding dress for Ava’s special day.
They had just gotten there and were waiting to be attended to when they heard two women whispering in the background.
At first, Ava tried not to pay attention, but with how loud they were, it was impossible not to hear a few words, especially when she heard Walter’s name.
“You mean Walter, the blue-eyed playboy, is getting married?” one woman whispered incredulously.
“Apparently, his parents found him a millionaire’s daughter,” another woman added.
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Ava desperately wanted to continue listening but was interrupted when one of the attendants approached her since it was her turn.
“You heard those people talking in the lobby, didn’t you?” Hillary asked as they followed the attendant.
“Do you know how many Walters there are in this state?” Ava replied, dismissing the rumors. She was convinced her Walter was different.
An hour later, Ava drove to Walter’s mansion. The recent rain had left the roads wet, and as she approached his mansion, she noticed a group of homeless people huddled by the roadside, trying to keep dry.
\Ava slowed her car to avoid splashing water on them and rolled down her window to offer them some money, only to be taken aback after hearing their conversation.
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“That rich guy in the red car splashed water on us! All that money has gone to his head! And that money isn’t his, I bet! It’s his parents’!” grumbled a bearded man.
“With his handsome looks, he thinks he can do anything,” a woman added bitterly.
Shocked and confused, Ava rolled up her window and drove into Walter’s estate, wondering if they were discussing him. She had seen his compassionate side, like his charity work, but she now doubted if it was just for show.
\As she entered his house using the spare key she always had, she was stunned to hear him yelling on the phone.
“Get them out of here! I want all of them gone!” he bellowed, his face contorted with anger.
His tone suddenly softened when he turned around and spotted her.
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“I don’t want to see those beggars suffer in this rain. Find them a place, now!” he commanded, hanging up.
“Ava!” He smiled and approached her. “I saw some homeless people in the rain. It broke my heart, so I was arranging shelter for them,” he explained. Ava didn’t know what to say and nodded. Throughout the evening, she acted like everything was fine, but it wasn’t.
Their wedding was in a week, after which Walter was to be appointed as the director of one of her father’s charity organizations.
As Ava reached home, she discussed everything with Hillary and devised a plan to test Walter’s true character.
“Why not hire a private investigator?” Hillary suggested. “Isn’t that easier than hiring an actor? What if it doesn’t work?”
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“It will. People let down their guard easily around strangers, and this particular actor I hired is pretty good,” Ava explained.
The next day, they met at Walter’s favorite café, concealing their faces under big hats.
“Aren’t you worried Walter might get angry if he finds out?” Hillary asked cautiously.
“He won’t know if all goes well,” Ava reassured her, waiting for Walter’s arrival. She’d already texted him and set her plan in motion. Babe, can you get me a coffee from your favorite place? I’ll be waiting at your office, she’d written.Later, she would text him that she couldn’t make it due to some work.
As Walter entered the café, Ava watched him closely. Dressed in a white sweater and black pants, Walter attracted admiring glances as he ordered. Ava’s heart swelled with pride, but she was anxious about the actor she’d hired to test him.
“I hope everything goes well,” she murmured to Hillary.
As Walter waited, a disheveled man, the actor Ava had hired, approached the counter. Walter was disgusted and stepped aside, allowing the man to order first.
“He’s so nice,” Ava whispered, unaware of Walter’s true intentions.
“Yeah, surprising,” Hillary said despite her doubts about Walter’s character.
Walter paid for the man’s bread and coffee, masking his frustration, all because he wanted the smelly, poor man to leave as soon as possible.
The situation escalated when the man accidentally spilled coffee on Walter’s sweater. Walter’s anger flared, but he caught a glimpse of someone familiar in the space and restrained himself.
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“I’m s-sorry, sir,” the man stammered, tears streaming down his face.
Walter, boiling inside, forced a smile. “Ah, no worries! It’s just clothes, nothing more. You can get more food at the counter; I’ll pay,” he offered, leading the man to the counter while vigorously typing on his phone, trying to send a quick message to his friend.
Ava watched from a distance and was proud of Walter’s kindness. “He’s the man I thought he was,” she said to Hillary, who wasn’t entirely convinced.
Soon, Walter stepped outside, walking side by side with the beggar, who walked beside him with a smile. They had just rounded a corner when he grabbed the man’s shirt and whispered harshly in his ears. “Say a word of this to Ava, and you’ll regret it,” he warned, tossing his hot coffee at the man before walking away.
Meanwhile, Ava dropped him the text, thinking she was a fool to doubt him. “See, I told you he’s a nice guy,” she told Hillary.
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Walter scowled as he read her message and drove home. He knew Ava suspected something. In desperation, he called Brandon, his trusted friend, for advice.
Meanwhile, Joe, the actor hired by Ava to test Walter, brushed off his coffee-soaked clothes. Feeling the soreness on his neck from Walter’s grip, he skipped contacting his client and headed home.
At Walter’s house, the atmosphere was tense. “She knows!” Walter yelled.
“Calm down. What does she know exactly?” Brandon inquired, pouring wine for his friend.
Walter explained Ava’s test and his fear of her suspicions.
“Spend more money on those charity galas she likes. There’s barely a week to the wedding, and all you have to do is persevere until then,” Brandon instructed him, and Walter listened with rapt attention.
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That night, after Ava got home, she spent hours talking to Walter on the phone, convinced that he was the only person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
“I love you, too,” she whispered into the phone after saying her goodbyes before hanging up.
Two days before the wedding, Ava went alone to pick up her dress. Unexpectedly, a woman blocked her path. “You’re Ava, right? The one marrying Walter?” the woman asked bluntly.
“Yes, I am. I love him,” Ava replied, assuming the woman was one of Walter’s exes.
“Don’t marry him. He’s not who you think he is,” the woman warned gravely before leaving.
Ava went after her, but the woman got into her car and drove away.
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Puzzled and concerned, Ava could only wonder about the woman’s motives as she picked up her wedding dress. She decided to call Joe, the actor she had hired to test Walter, for any insights.
She had paid him for his work but hadn’t heard from him ever since his act at the cafe. She didn’t think much about it then because she was convinced Walter was really a kind and caring man. Joe didn’t answer her first calls, and when he finally did, he urgently warned her to stay away from Walter before abruptly hanging up.
Confused and alarmed, Ava pondered Joe’s reaction and decided to test Walter herself, this time without any intermediaries. She planned to disguise herself as a homeless person and approach Walter to see his true character.
Dressed in old, smelly clothes and a dirty scarf, Ava waited for Walter at a fancy restaurant where they were supposed to meet. She approached him in the parking lot, asking for help in her beggar disguise.
Remembering Brandon’s advice to maintain a good public image, Walter reluctantly gave her some money and walked away.
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Seeing his ‘kindness,’ Ava couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not trusting him. Entering the restaurant, she instantly headed straight towards him, trying to grab his arm as she called his name.
“Wal—” she began, but the words had barely left her mouth when she felt a brutal, stinging force against her face.
Walter slapped her.
“I-I’m a woman,” Ava stuttered in shock, not knowing what else to say as she watched Walter glare at her with hostile and unfamiliar eyes.
“You stinking witch! The only reason I didn’t slap you before was that we were in public. How dare you follow me!” Walter yelled. “You poverty-stricken set of beggars, I hate your kind the most!”
Walter had been holding in his emotions for a while, and seeing the utterly empty restaurant felt like a grand opportunity to take out his emotions on the beggar who DARED to almost touch him.
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“I’ve been going around with a kind look just because I’m trying to get a woman to marry me, and you think you can take advantage of that? Get out, or I’ll slap you again!” Walter continued yelling, and Ava could tell that he meant every word.
Touching her face, she felt it burn as her eyes stung from both the pain and the realization that Walter was nothing like the man she fell in love with.
As he demanded security to remove her, Ava removed her disguise, revealing her true identity.
“It’s me, Ava,” she finally said, her heart breaking.
His face turned pale. “A-Ava? How could you deceive me like this? Was this all a trap, a test? I thought you loved me. I thought you trusted me,” he stammered, trying to turn things around.
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But Ava just shook her head and smirked.
“The wedding is off, loser!” she declared before leaving.
Months later, Ava’s parents arranged another match for her. She met Brandon, a seemingly calm and gentlemanly figure.
“My name is Brandon. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about me!” He greeted her with a charming smile.
I guess looks can be highly deceiving, Ava thought. Through the private investigator Ava had hired, she knew this man was more deadly than Walter. She smiled at him, deciding to teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
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If you enjoyed reading this story, you might like this one about a maid who captured a millionaire’s heart days before his wedding.
My Neighbors Left a Note That Shattered My Heart — My Granddaughter Discovered It and Gave Them a Learning Experience
The music I played on my piano was my last link to my late husband. But cruel neighbors shattered that joy with a hurtful message on my wall. When my granddaughter found out, she made things right, leaving those entitled neighbors scratching their heads.
“Oh, Jerry, did you love it today, darling?” I asked softly, the last notes of “Clair de Lune” filling my cozy living room as my fingers lifted from the ivory piano keys. My eyes fixed on the framed photo of my late husband, Jerry. His kind eyes seemed to twinkle back at me, just as they had for over fifty years of our marriage…
Willie, my tabby cat, stretched lazily near my feet, purring contentedly. I reached down to scratch behind his ears, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as I carefully lifted Jerry’s photo.
“I miss you so much, darling. It’s been five years, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like yesterday.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to the cool glass, I whispered, “Time for dinner, my love. I’ll play your favorite before bed, okay? ‘Moon River,’ just like always.”
As I set the frame back down, I could almost hear Jerry’s warm chuckle. “You spoil me, Bessie,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shuffled towards the kitchen, pausing to look back at the piano, my constant companion these past 72 years.
“What would I do without you?” I murmured, running my hand along its polished surface.
That night, as I lay in bed, I whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
The next morning, I was lost in Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major” when a sharp rap on my window startled me. My fingers stumbled, the music cutting off abruptly.
A red-faced man glared at me through the glass. He was my new neighbor.
“Hey, lady!” he shouted, his voice muffled. “Cut out that racket! You’re keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your pathetic plinking!”
I stared at him, shocked. “I… I’m so sorry,” I stammered, even as a small voice in my head protested. It was barely 11 a.m., and none of my other neighbors had ever complained before.
The man stomped away, leaving me trembling. I closed the lid of the piano, my sanctuary suddenly feeling tainted.
The next day, I closed all the windows before sitting down to play. The music felt muffled and constrained, but I hoped it would keep the peace.
I was barely ten minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” when my doorbell rang insistently. With a heavy heart, I answered it.
A woman with pinched features glared at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she spat. “The grave’s calling, and you’re still banging on that piano? Cut the noise, or I’ll report you to the HOA!”
It was only then that I understood she was my new neighbor’s wife.
I felt like I’d been slapped. “I… I closed all the windows,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s not enough!” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Quit making noise with your stupid piano!”
I slumped against the door frame, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Jerry,” I whispered. “What do I do?”
I could almost hear his voice, gentle but firm. “You play, Bessie. You play your heart out. Don’t stop… for anyone.”
But as I sat at the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys, I couldn’t bring myself to press down.
Days passed, and I tried everything. I taped cardboard over the windows, played only in short bursts, even considered moving the piano to the basement where it might not be heard.
But nothing seemed to satisfy my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d started calling them in my head.
The thought of being separated from my cherished instrument, even by a flight of stairs, made my heart ache. This piano wasn’t just an object; it was an extension of my soul, a living connection to Jerry and our life together.
Forgetting about those bothersome neighbors for a moment, I lost myself in the music as I played the piano that night.
The next morning, I stepped outside to tend to my small herb garden. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
The cruel words “SHUT UP!” were spray-painted across the wall in angry red letters.
I sank to my knees and wept. “Jerry, I can’t do this anymore.”
That day, for the first time in decades, I didn’t touch my piano.
As night fell, I sat in Jerry’s armchair, clutching his photo. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”
The shrill ring of the telephone startled me from my thoughts. I fumbled for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me,” my son Jacob’s warm voice filled the line. “How are you doing?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Oh, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a quiet day at home.”
There was a pause. “Mom, you don’t sound fine. Is everything alright?”
I sighed, debating whether to burden him with my troubles. “It’s nothing, really. Just… some issues with the new neighbors.”
“Issues? What kind of issues?”
I found myself spilling everything… the complaints, the threats, the vandalism.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, honey. I feel so… lost.”
“Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. You have your own life, your own problems.”
“Mom, you’re never a burden. Never. Your music has brought joy to so many people over the years. Remember all those Christmas parties? The school recitals you played for? You’re not a nuisance… you’re a treasure.”
“Listen, I’m going to call Melissa. She’s closer. Maybe she can come check on you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Jacob finished.
As I hung up the phone, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this after all.
Days crawled by. My piano sat untouched, gathering dust. I felt like a part of me was withering away.
One evening, a loud knock startled me from my melancholy. I opened the door to find my granddaughter Melissa standing there, her face glowing with a warm smile.
“Surprise, Nana!” she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug.
As she pulled back, her eyes widened in horror. “Nana, who did this to your wall?”
I burst into tears, the whole story spilling out between sobs. Melissa’s expression darkened with each word.
“Oh, Nana,” she said softly, leading me to the couch. “How dare they do this to you? Did you report them?”
“I didn’t want to make a fuss. It’s just… it’s been so hard, sweetie. That piano, it’s all I have left of your grandpa.”
Melissa’s eyes filled with tears. “I know, Nana. We’ll fix this, I promise.”
“How?” I asked, feeling hopeless. “They hate my music. They hate me.”
Melissa took my hands in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. “They can shove their hatred up their butts, Nana. They don’t even know you. These entitled brats are about to learn what happens when you mess with the wrong pianist!”
The next day, Melissa was a whirlwind of activity. She made calls, ordered some supplies, and even enlisted the help of some neighbors I’d known for years.
“Nana, we’re going to teach those Grinches a lesson about respect.”
That evening, Melissa set up small speakers around the Grinches’ property, carefully hidden in the boxwood bushes under their windows.
When their car pulled into the driveway, she winked at me. “Show time, Nana!”
As soon as the Grinches disappeared inside, soft piano music began to play from the hidden speakers, barely audible at first. They rushed out, looking confused. Then suddenly, the music changed to a medley of barking dogs and car alarms.
I couldn’t help but giggle as I watched them run around, trying to find the source of the noise.
Melissa grinned triumphantly. “And now, for the grand finale,” she said, pressing a red button on a remote control-like device.
The air was filled with the most ridiculous assortment of fart sounds I’d ever heard. I doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down my face.
“Melissa!” I gasped between giggles. “You’re terrible!”
She hugged me tight. “Nobody messes with my Nana. Besides, a little harmless payback never hurt anyone.”
As we watched the Grinches frantically searching their yard, I was pleased. “Thank you, sweetheart,” I said softly. “For reminding me to stand up for myself.”
The next morning, a crew arrived at my house. To my amazement, they began converting my piano room into a state-of-the-art soundproof studio.
“Now you can play whenever you want, Nana,” Melissa said, squeezing my hand. “No one will ever tell you to stop again.”
As the workers finished up, I sat down at my newly polished piano. My fingers trembled as they touched the keys, but as soon as I began to play, it was like coming home.
The familiar strains of “Moon River” filled the air, and I closed my eyes, feeling Jerry’s presence all around me.
“That’s my girl,” I could almost hear him say. “Play on, Bessie. Play on.”
Melissa danced around the room, a glass of wine in hand. “You rock, Nana!” she cheered. “Grandpa would be so proud.”
As the last notes faded away, I turned to her with tears in my eyes. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’ve given me back my voice.”
“No, Nana,” Melissa said, kneeling beside me. “You’ve always had your voice. I just helped you remember how to use it.”
All too soon, it was time for Melissa to leave. As we stood in the driveway, waiting for her taxi, she handed me the remote control-like device.
“Just in case those Grinches act up again,” she winked. “One press, and it’s fart city. But I don’t think you’ll need it. The whole neighborhood’s got your back now, Nana!”
I hugged her tightly. “I love you so much, Melissa. Thank you for everything.”
“I love you too, Nana. Promise me you’ll keep playing, no matter what anyone says.”
“I promise,” I said, my voice strong and sure.
As I watched the taxi disappear down the street, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my son: “How are you doing, Mom? Melissa told me everything. I’m so proud of you. Love you. ”
I smiled, tears pricking my eyes as I typed back: “I’m doing better than I have in weeks. Thank you for being there for me. I love you too. ”
Turning back to my house, I could have sworn I saw Jerry standing near the piano, arms wide open, beckoning me to play.
I wiped away a stray tear of joy and walked inside, closing the door behind me. The piano was waiting, and this time, nothing would stop me from playing.
As my fingers touched the keys, I felt whole again. The music swelled, filling every corner of my home and my heart. And somewhere, I knew Jerry was listening, smiling, and dancing along.
“This one’s for you, my love,” I whispered, as the melody of our favorite song carried me away. “And for our family, who never gave up on me!”
The notes of “Moon River” floated through the air. As I played, I felt stronger than ever, surrounded by the love of those who mattered most, both here and beyond.
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