At the altar, my groom never showed. In front of hundreds of high-society guests, his mother marched up, ripped off my veil, and drenched my white couture dress in red wine. Smirking into the microphone, she announced, “My son is marrying a wealthy woman I chose. You? Just a temporary stand-in.” — Page 2

She walked down the aisle like she owned the room, holding a microphone in one hand… and a glass of red wine in the other.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced smoothly, “there won’t be a wedding today.”

Gasps filled the air.

I felt my chest tighten. “Where is Ethan?” I whispered.

She turned to me with cold satisfaction.

“My son is exactly where he should be,” she said loudly. “With a real match. A wealthy, well-bred woman.”

The words hit like a slap.

“You were never the choice,” she continued. “Just… convenient.”

Then she grabbed my veil.

Rip.

The sound echoed through the cathedral.

Before I could react—

Splash.

Cold wine soaked into my dress, spreading like blood across white silk.

Laughter broke out.

Soft at first.

Then louder.

I dropped to my knees, humiliation crushing me from every side.

“Clean up and leave,” she sneered. “You don’t belong here.”

Then—

Footsteps.

Slow. Measured. Commanding.

The entire room went silent.

A man stepped forward from the back.

Tall. Imposing. Untouchable.

Alexander Cross.

CEO. Billionaire. The man Ethan worked for—and feared.

He didn’t look at anyone else.

Only me.

He walked straight to the altar… and knelt beside me.