My fiancé, the crown prince of the city’s elite circle, Damian Sterling, was a workaholic. His startup had just
gone public, and he was so busy he didn’t even have time to meet his own wife–to–be.
I didn’t mind one bit. Not only was he drop–dead gorgeous, but he was more than willing to flex his financia muscle. My walk–in closet was overflowing with priceless jewelry, designer clothes, and handbags. I secretly hoped he would work overtime every day.
Somehow, news of our unconventional romance leaked and went viral. The internet was buzzing with envy
over our “fairytale” love story.
Naturally, Isabelle found out. She called me immediately, her voice dripping with pity. “Aurora, this is all my fault. My selfish decision to run away has condemned you to this fate. Don’t worry, I will save you!”
Her nonsensical declaration left me so baffled that I immediately went online and ordered several spiritual cleansing kits.
But she was relentless, haunting me right up until my wedding day.
On the day of my wedding, Isabelle was also getting married. I have no idea where she got the money, but
she rented a small hall right next to our grand ballroom.
Across the corridor, I saw her in a wedding dress that was yellowing with age. I stood in my custom–made
haute couture gown. She showed no signs of shame, only looking at me with pity, as if she was certain my life was a living hell.
Just as Damian and I were about to exchange rings, she burst into the room, a strange man in tow.
“Stop this wedding!”
The dreamy music screeched to a halt. All heads turned to her.
02.46
02
Isabelle pointed an accusatory finger at my parents This wedding is nothing but a business transaction! They are sacrificing their own daughter’s happiness for profit
“They only brought Aurora back because I refused to be their pawn! All they care about is money, not family!”
She turned to me, her voice ringing with passion “Aurora, we women deserve to be free! To marry the person
we love! As she spoke, she managed to squeeze out a few tears for dramatic effect
Our quests were too high class to gossip openly, but the damage was done. We were a laughingstock Gran
dfather clutched his chest, sinking into his chair. My parents‘ faces were ashen.
Before they could speak, Isabelle pushed a red haired punk in front of me. “You and your boyfriend deserve
to be happy together. Don’t worry about me. Go, run away and find your true lovel”
Wait, since when was this guy my boyfriend?
looked at her self–sacrificing expression, as if this pock faced redhead, who was shorter than me even will ifts in his shoes, was some kind of prize.
‘Let’s go, Aurora,” the redhead said, reaching for me with a hand covered in some unidentifiable grime. “I‘
take care of you from now on.”
Who are you? Do I know you?” I said, desperate to distance myself from him before my billionaire husband
got the wrong idea.
But Isabelle seemed deaf, lost in her own heroic fantasy. “Aurora, you don’t have to pretend to be strong anymore. This is all my fault, I am willing to take your place in this gilded cage!”
She ripped the million–dollar pearls from my veil, sending them scattering across the floor like marbles. She
snatched the microphone from the officiant.
‘Everyone here is a witness!” she declared. “Damian Sterling, all you want is the Beaumont family’s shipping
port shares, right? It doesn’t matter who you marry!”
She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for a great sacrifice.
‘Fine, Damian Sterling, you win!” she shouted. “I agree to marry you!”
