The chandeliers blazed with light, scattering diamonds across the marble floor. Music swelled through the grand ballroom of the Vaughn Estate, a glittering waltz that rose and fell like the heartbeat of the night. Everywhere I looked, Arden City's elite were gathered—men in sleek tuxedos, women draped in jewels worth small fortunes, glasses of champagne in hand.
And me.
I stood at the center of it all, in a white gown embroidered with pearls, the dress I had dreamed of since girlhood. When I caught my reflection in the gilded mirror across the room, my breath hitched. For a fleeting moment, I looked like I belonged here: the bride-to-be of Adrian Blackwell.
Tomorrow, he would be my husband.
Maya squeezed my hand, pulling me back from the mirror. My best friend's dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in.
"Stop looking like you're about to faint," she teased. "You're not just some wallflower tonight, Elena. You're the future Mrs. Blackwell. Every woman here would kill to be you."
I smiled faintly. Would they?
I had waited six years for this night. Six years of watching Adrian disappear into meetings, galas, business trips—six years of silence from my own family as they made it clear that I was an outsider in my own home. All of it would finally be worth it.
Adrian and I had promised each other forever.
My heart lifted when I saw him across the room. He was every inch the heir tonight: tall, broad-shouldered, his tailored suit cut to perfection. Women turned to look at him as he passed, their whispers following in his wake. Yet his expression was carved from stone, unreadable.
It had always been that way with Adrian. Cold to the world, warm only to me.
Or so I believed.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
The voice of Richard Vaughn—my stepfather—boomed through the ballroom. He stood at the podium, beaming, his hand resting proudly on Adrian's shoulder. Victoria, my stepmother, glittered beside him, her lips painted in that sharp crimson smile I knew too well.
I smoothed my gown and lifted my chin, waiting for the announcement. The official recognition of my engagement. My place at Adrian's side.
Richard raised his glass. "Tonight, we celebrate a union that will change the future of Arden City."
The crowd hushed. Anticipation crackled in the air.
Adrian stepped forward. His eyes swept the room, then landed on me. For an instant, I swore I saw something—hesitation? Guilt? But then it vanished. His jaw set, his voice steady.
"As of tonight," Adrian said, his words clear, echoing under the chandeliers, "the engagement between myself and Elena Vaughn is canceled."
The glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the floor.
The ballroom erupted in gasps, whispers, the frantic flashing of cameras. My ears rang. I stared at him, waiting—waiting for him to laugh, to say this was some cruel joke.
But Adrian didn't laugh.
"I will instead be marrying Eleanor Sinclair, daughter of the Sinclair Corporation," he continued, his tone unflinching. "Our families will merge, ensuring a future of stability and prosperity for both our companies."
The applause was deafening.
Applause.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. My chest tightened until it hurt. Around me, women smirked behind jeweled fans, men nodded with approval. Society's vultures smelled blood, and it was mine.
Victoria's hand clamped around my arm. Her voice was low, sharp, meant only for me.
"Don't make a scene, Elena. This is for the good of the family. Be grateful."
"Grateful?" My voice broke. I jerked my arm free, but her nails had already left little crescents in my skin. "You knew?"
Richard's smile didn't falter as he raised his glass again, but his eyes—those calculating eyes—met mine with warning.
"Don't embarrass yourself."
My blood turned cold. My own family had known. They had approved. They had traded me away like a useless stock.
"Adrian," I whispered, forcing myself forward, ignoring the murmurs that followed me. "Tell me this isn't true. Tell me—"
His gaze met mine, and for the first time, I saw nothing. Not warmth. Not hesitation. Just emptiness.
"It's decided, Elena. This is bigger than us. You'll understand one day."
Understand?
I had given him everything. My love, my loyalty, my dreams. And he stood there, under the chandeliers, telling me to understand as he threw me aside like yesterday's news.
The cameras flashed. Paparazzi lenses captured my tears, my trembling hands, my broken expression. Tomorrow, the tabloids would have their headlines: Forsaken Bride of Arden City.
The laughter started then, soft at first. Evelyn Cross, queen of Arden's socialites, let out a tinkling giggle behind her flute of champagne. Others followed. Whispers rippled through the crowd, slicing me open with every word.
I ran.
The marble floor blurred beneath my heels, the music swelling cruelly behind me. I burst through the grand doors into the night. Rain lashed against my gown, plastering silk to my skin, smudging the makeup I had so carefully applied.
The white dress clung to me like a burial shroud.
By the time I reached the fountain at the edge of the estate, I was shaking, drenched, my bouquet crushed in my hands. I fell to my knees, choking on a sob that refused to stay buried.
"I was never the bride," I whispered to the rain. "I was just their pawn."
The world would laugh. My family would celebrate. Adrian would walk away untouched, his future secured with Eleanor Sinclair.
And me? I would be forgotten, discarded, humiliated.
The storm raged above, drowning the sound of my breathless sobs. Until a voice cut through the downpour—smooth, deep, and terrifyingly calm.
"You look wasted on tears."
My head snapped up.
A man stood at the edge of the fountain, tall and broad-shouldered, his black suit untouched by the rain as if the storm itself didn't dare touch him. His silver-gray eyes gleamed in the darkness, sharp and merciless.
Damien Hartmann.
Even in my despair, I knew that name. Arden City's most feared billionaire. Ruthless. Untouchable. The rival Adrian hated most.
And he was looking at me.
"Wh-what do you want?" My voice trembled.
He stepped closer, the gravel crunching under polished shoes. Every movement was precise, deliberate, like a predator approaching its prey.
"Because I don't like wasted potential," he said. His gaze flicked to my torn veil, then back to me. "And right now, you look like someone ready to burn the world down."
My breath caught.
Damien stopped in front of me, the storm reflecting in his cold eyes. His voice lowered, silken and dangerous.
"I'll make you an offer. If you want revenge, Elena Vaughn… I'll give you the power to take it."
The rain fell harder, lightning splitting the sky. My heart pounded in my chest, torn between despair and a spark of something fiercer—something alive.
I looked down at my trembling hands, at the bouquet crushed beyond recognition. Then up at him, at the man who stood like a shadow carved from steel.
Adrian had destroyed me. My family had abandoned me. The world had mocked me.
But maybe—just maybe—this was not the end.
It was the beginning.