Part 2 – The Missing Groom
The grand ballroom of the Blackwood estate gleamed like something out of a dream. Golden chandeliers glittered overhead, their crystals scattering light across rows of well-dressed guests. White roses adorned every surface, their fragrance mixing with the sharp tang of champagne. The air itself seemed to hum with expectation, all eyes fixed on the mahogany doors where the bride would soon appear.
Aria stood just beyond those doors, her arm looped through her mother's. Her veil blurred her vision, but she could still feel the weight of hundreds of gazes pressing on her from the other side.
"Steady," Vivian whispered, patting her daughter's hand. "Just keep smiling."
The orchestra shifted into the opening chords of the wedding march. The doors creaked open.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as Aria stepped into view, radiant in her ivory gown. She kept her head high, her chin tilted in practiced elegance, but inside her stomach churned. Her steps felt both too slow and too fast as she moved down the aisle, white roses blurring in her periphery.
She should have been smiling at Ethan by now. He should have been waiting at the altar, flashing that boyish grin that had first charmed her.
But the altar was empty.
Aria faltered mid-step. The music carried on, the guests' eyes widened, whispers began to rise like smoke in the air. She forced herself to keep moving, her pulse thundering in her ears, until she reached the altar.
Still no groom.
She turned her head slightly, her eyes scanning the front rows, the side aisles, the grand staircase. No sign of him. No sign of Ethan at all.
Her throat tightened. Surely he was just delayed, caught up in some last-minute preparation. Perhaps his cufflinks had snapped, or his car had been late. Surely he wouldn't—
But the minutes dragged on.
The officiant cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling his papers. The music faltered, then stopped altogether. The silence was deafening.
Whispers surged, sharper this time, cutting into her like knives.
"Where is he?"
"Did he change his mind?"
"I heard he's been seen with another woman…"
"Typical Blackwood scandal."
Aria's fingers clenched around the bouquet, crushing the delicate petals. Heat crawled up her neck, shame burning hotter with each murmured speculation.
Sophia, seated in the front row, shot up from her chair and hurried to Aria's side. "He'll be here," she whispered fiercely, though her eyes flickered with doubt. "Don't panic."
"Don't panic?" Aria's voice cracked behind the veil. "He's not here, Sophia. He's not—"
Her mother rushed forward, plastering on a brittle smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, a brief delay," she announced, her voice wobbling but firm. "Please enjoy refreshments while we wait for the groom."
The guests muttered, some sympathetic, others openly gleeful at the scandal unraveling before them. Reporters lurking at the edges scribbled furiously, their cameras clicking as Aria stood frozen at the altar.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to tear off the veil, throw down the bouquet, and disappear through the nearest door before the humiliation swallowed her whole.
But she couldn't.
She was a Bennett. Her family's survival depended on this wedding, on her. If she fled, if she gave them reason to laugh, her family's name would sink beyond saving.
So she stood still, rooted in place, her hands trembling around the bouquet, her ears ringing with the weight of her own heartbeat.
Sophia slipped her arm around her. "Breathe," she whispered. "Maybe he's just—"
The heavy doors at the back of the ballroom slammed open.
Aria's heart leapt. Relief surged through her as she turned, expecting Ethan at last — late, careless, but here.
But it wasn't Ethan.
It was a man she had seen only a handful of times, yet he commanded the room the moment he entered.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that seemed carved from the shadows themselves, Damian Blackwood strode down the aisle. His eyes, cold as midnight steel, swept the room before locking on Aria.
The whispers shifted instantly.
"That's Damian…"
"The elder Blackwood brother…"
"What's he doing here?"
Aria's breath caught in her throat. Of all people, why him?
Damian had always been a figure cloaked in mystery and danger. Where Ethan was charming and light, Damian was storm and ice. The elder son of the Blackwood empire, CEO of the conglomerate, a man whispered about in boardrooms and tabloids alike. Ruthless. Unforgiving. The kind of man who could make or break empires with a flick of his pen.
And now he was walking straight toward her.
Aria's knees nearly buckled as he reached the altar, his imposing presence blotting out the space Ethan should have filled. His gaze lingered on her, steady and unreadable, as though stripping her bare beneath the veil.
"Where is Ethan?" Aria's voice came out as a whisper, meant only for him.
Damian's lips curved, not into a smile but something sharper, colder. "Gone."
The word struck like a dagger.
Aria's breath hitched, the world spinning. Gone? Gone where? Gone why? But before she could speak, Damian turned, addressing the officiant with a calmness that belied the storm he'd just unleashed.
"Proceed."
The officiant blinked, stunned. "Mr. Blackwood, I—"
"Proceed," Damian repeated, his voice a whipcrack that silenced the murmurs around them.
Aria's bouquet slipped from her trembling fingers, petals scattering across the polished floor. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, panic clawing at her throat.
What was happening? Where was Ethan? And why was Damian standing at her altar, commanding the ceremony to continue as though he had every right to take his brother's place?
The guests leaned forward, hungry for the scandal. Cameras clicked. Her mother's face had gone pale, her lips pressed tight, but she said nothing. Sophia gripped Aria's hand, her expression a mixture of shock and alarm.
Damian's gaze flicked back to her, sharp and unyielding. "You don't want to humiliate yourself further, Miss Bennett. Marry me instead."