Elena Blake had always believed in fairy tales.
She had spent years dreaming of this moment—the day she would walk down the aisle, draped in white, stepping into a future filled with love and devotion. The grand cathedral was bathed in golden light, the scent of fresh lilies filling the air. Rows of distinguished guests sat in hushed anticipation, waiting for the moment when she would become **Mrs. Lucas Sterling**.
Her heart pounded as she clutched her bouquet, fingers trembling slightly. Lucas—enigmatic, powerful, devastatingly handsome—was the man she had given her heart to. A man who had promised her forever.
But as she stood at the altar, something was wrong.
Lucas was nowhere to be seen.
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.
Elena's pulse quickened. He wouldn't do this. He **couldn't** do this.
Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes. Murmurs of confusion turned into gasps as the wedding planner rushed onto the altar, whispering frantically to her maid of honor. The woman stiffened, horror flashing across her features.
"Elena," she started hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lucas is… gone."
The words hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest.
"No." The denial slipped out instinctively. Her hands tightened around the bouquet, crushing the delicate petals beneath her fingers. Gone? Gone where?
The priest shifted uneasily. A few guests awkwardly stood, unsure if they should leave or wait for an explanation.
Elena swallowed hard. "Gone?" she echoed, her voice strangely calm despite the storm raging inside her.
Her maid of honor hesitated. "His assistant called. He left. No explanation. He… he's not coming."
The weight of the truth crushed her breath. She stared ahead, expecting Lucas to appear, expecting him to laugh and say it was all some ridiculous misunderstanding.
But he didn't come.
He wasn't coming.
Her vision blurred as pain, humiliation, and disbelief clawed at her chest. The whispers of the guests grew louder—sympathetic murmurs, shocked gasps, scandalous speculation.
"Elena." Her father stepped forward, his expression grim yet protective, offering his hand. "We should leave."
But she couldn't move. Her legs felt cemented to the floor, her pride warring with the crushing agony blooming in her heart.
She had loved Lucas. Trusted him. And he had abandoned her in the cruelest way possible—without warning, without an explanation, without a single word.
Her vision narrowed. The pain slowly hardened into something colder.
Rage.
If Lucas Sterling thought she would crumble and disappear quietly into the shadows, he was gravely mistaken.
She would rise from this.
She would reclaim her life.
And most of all—she would make sure Lucas regretted the day he ever decided to walk away.