Dressed in a bridal gown, Grace's gaze continually strayed to the door. She was waiting for her fiancé to show up so the wedding could take place.
She checked her wristwatch and gave a humorless chuckle. The guests' whispers floated into her ears, each one was a stab to her chest.
But instead of breaking down like any ordinary girl, Grace kept her head high and her expression calm.
"Miss Grace," the priest finally asked, his tone uneasy, "the auspicious time is about to pass. Where is your groom? Won't he show up?"
"He's on his way," Grace replied softly, though her eyes betrayed her as they returned once again to the entrance.
Instead of her groom, her stepmother appeared before her, lips curling with smug satisfaction. "Grace, he won't show up. I suggest you cancel this wedding while you still have some dignity left." She flicked her hair at the end of her statement.
Grace's lips curved into a slow, cynical smile. "This wedding will happen—whether he comes or not."
Before her stepmother could sneer, Grace stepped away. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked directly to a man who looked the least interested in the entire gathering.
"Sir," Grace's voice was sweet, but her words cracked the silence like thunder, and caused an uproar, "would you like to marry me?"
The hall erupted in gasps. Guests craned their necks. Her stepmother froze and stood in disbelief.
The man looked up, a dangerous smile tugging at his lips, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked lazily.
"You don't know me. I can be quite… dangerous." He drew out lazily.
Grace's chin tilted higher. "Better dangerous than a coward who doesn't even show up."
His laughter rolled through the hall, low and resonant, sending shivers down spines. Every guest recognized him. Everyone—except Grace.
Her stepmother's shock twisted into glee. If Grace married this man, she would only be digging her own grave. What better thing could she ask for her?
The man's eyes sharpened. "Once we marry, there's no going back. Do you dare?"
Grace thought she had seen something dark and obsessive hidden in his gaze. But she didn't waver. "I accept. So, sir, will you marry me now?"
His grin widened. "What are we waiting for? Let's get married!"
Whispers erupted like wildfire as Grace led him to the altar.
"Priest," she said calmly, "you may begin the ceremony."
The priest cleared his throat, visibly shaken. "We are gathered here today to witness the joining of Grace Mae Donovan and…" He faltered, staring at the unknown man.
The man smirked. "Adrian Blackwell."
Grace's brows knitted. The name rang faintly in her mind, but she brushed it off. Minutes later, vows were exchanged, and the unthinkable happened. Grace was married to a stranger.
When the ceremony ended, she didn't stay by his side. Instead, she walked out without sparing him another glance.
Adrian's lips twitched into a cold smile as he watched her leave.
"As expected, you haven't changed a bit, Grace." He murmured under his breath. His eyes darkened again. "Do you think you can run away from me now? Think again."
"Boss, you really married her." Anton, his assistant, scrambled to keep up as they left the hall. "What do I tell the Old Master?"
Adrian's smile was deceptively calm as he placed a hand on Anton's shoulder. "Tell him I've found his daughter-in-law."
Anton stiffened, but he knew better than to argue.
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Meanwhile, Grace arrived at the Donovan mansion. The servants rushed forward in confusion, filled with questions.
"Young Miss, you returned so soon? Is the wedding… finished?" an older maid asked nervously.
Grace forced a tired smile. "Aunty, I'll explain later. I want to see my father."
She hurried upstairs, her long skirts sweeping against the polished floor. Entering the quiet, dim room, her chest tightened at the sight of her father lying motionless, machines beeping steadily beside him with several tubes running all over his body.
"Dad," she whispered, sitting at his side. "I did it. I got married… but not to the man you chose. He didn't even come." She sniffed.
Her laugh was bitter. "So I picked a stranger instead. Maybe you'll scold me when you wake up, but I did what I could."
She clasped his cold hand, her voice softening. "You don't have to worry. I'll protect everything you built, no matter what... even if it costs my happiness."
And then—his fingers stirred. Just the faintest twitch, but enough to freeze her breath.
Grace's eyes widened, her pulse thundering. "Dad…?" But the silence that followed after pressed on Grace's chest as she watched her dad who was unconscious. She sniffed, swallowing due to the pain.
_____________
From the back seat of his car, Adrian Blackwell leaned against the leather, his lips curling faintly.
Grace Donovan. He repeated in his head. The woman who once belonged to him, the woman who had forgotten him as though their love was nothing but a dream.
But he remembered. Every smile. Every kiss. He also recalled the night of the accident that stole her memories, and stole her away from him.
And now, fate had dragged her right back into his hands. He chuckled at the sheer twist of fate.
She thought she had chosen a stranger. She thought she was running from humiliation. But she had run straight into his arms.
"You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, Grace." He murmured under his breath. His gaze darkened, a dangerous fire burning beneath his calm smile.
'This time, I won't let you go.' This was his silent vow.