The first sign that something was wrong was not the whispering. It was Adrian's silence. The cathedral shimmered in gild and ivory, filled with the most powerful people in the city-billionaires, politicians, board members-all gathered to witness the merger of two empires disguised as a wedding. I stood at the end of the aisle in a gown worth more than most people's annual salaries, staring at the man I was supposed to marry. Adrian Vale looked untouchable in black, tall and composed, the kind of man who didn't need to demand power because he naturally owned it. When our eyes met, I expected warmth. Possession. That quiet intensity that once made me feel like I was the safest woman alive. Instead, there was nothing. No anger. No love. Just a cold, unreadable stillness that made my pulse falter.
I noticed the best man lean toward him, whispering something urgent while holding out a phone. Adrian didn't look at it immediately. He kept his gaze on me, and in that moment, I understood something terrifying-whatever he was about to see, he already believed it. The priest cleared his throat awkwardly and asked if we were ready to begin, but Adrian raised a single hand, silencing the room without effort. Only then did he take the phone. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Anyone else would have missed it. I didn't. I knew every controlled breath he took when he was angry.
He stepped down from the altar slowly, each polished step against the marbel echoing far louder than it should have. "Elena," he said. My name had never sounded so distant. When he stopped in front of me, close enough that I could see my reflection in his dark eyes, I realized I no longer looked like a bride in them. I looked like a liability. "Do you want to explain," he asked calmly, "why my rival is circulating photos of you leaving his hotel suite last night?" The air left my lungs. The whispers erupted like a wildfire finally given permission to burn. My father shifted uncomfortably in the front pew. The Vale board members exchanged sharp, calculating glances. Adrian's gaze never wavered. "Were you there?" he asked, voice steady, almost conversational.
"Yes," I admitted, because lying would destroy whatever fragile chance I had left. The sound of collective shock rippled through the cathedral. "Why?" he continued. I swallowed, my mind racing with everything I couldn't say. Because I received a message threatening my father's company. Because someone warned me that if I didn't go, this wedding would never happen. Because I thought I could fix it quietly. Because I was trying to protect you. But I couldn't explain that here, not like this, not with the city watching. "It wasn't what you think," I whispered instead, and the moment the words left my mouth, I knew they were wrong. Adrian's lips curved slightly, not in amusement but in finality. "That sentence," he said softly, "is always followed by something unforgivable."
"I didn't betray you." "You met him alone. The night before our wedding." "It was business." "You don't handle business." The truth in his response stund because it was accurate. I reached for his hand instinctively, but he stepped back. The small movement felt like the ground splitting open beneath me. "You should have told me, he said, and for a brief second, I saw it-the hurt beneath the pride. "I was going to. After the wedding." His expression hardened. "After?" Around us, phones were lowering. No one wanted evidence of Adrian Vale being publicly humiliated, but everyone wanted to witness it. "I trusted you," he said quietly. Four words. No shouting. No drama. Just disappointment heavy enough to crush me.
"I still love you," I said, because it was the only truth I could give him. His eyes turned glacial. "That's unfortunate," he replied. "Because I don't love women who humiliate me." The sentence sliced through whatever hope I had left. He turned toward the priest. "The wedding is canceled." The cathedral exploded into noise. My mother gasped. My father stood abruptly. Executives were already making calls to contain the fallout. Adrian adjusted his cufflinks as if this were nothing more than a postponed board meeting. "Elena Marlowe is no longer associated with me or my company, he announced evenly.
My vision blurred. "Adrian, please-" he looked at me one final time, and what I saw there was worse than hatred. It was reolution. "You didn't just betray me," he said quietly, leaning close enough that only I could hear. "You made me look weak." For a man like Adrian Vale, weakness was the one crime that deserved no mercy. "Pray I never have to see you again," he added before straightening. Then he walked away without looking back, leaving me standing alone at the altar while the empire we were supposed to build collapsed around me.
And in that moment, I understood the truth.
He would never forgive me.