He Ditched His Bride for Her Pregnant Sister

The atmosphere in the grand hall was thick with tension as guests watched Miranda Jenkins cry like some delicate Cinderella. Adalee Morgan, in contrast, stood her ground, playing the villainous stepmother. The crowd, swayed more by emotion than logic, sided with Miranda, throwing silent daggers at Adalee. Even her own family backed Miranda—a girl with no blood ties to them—over their own daughter.

Adalee studied Miranda's tear-streaked face, feeling a twisted mix of admiration and irritation at her knack for winning hearts. But Miranda had it wrong if she thought Adalee was still that naive girl who'd let herself get trampled without a fight. Back then, Adalee had been stupid enough to buy every lie Miranda fed her.

Raising an eyebrow, Adalee spoke with cool confidence. "Miranda, do you seriously think everyone's gullible enough to swallow your little story?"

Miranda was left speechless, and the crowd fell into a hushed silence. Adalee pushed on. "If you claim you were with Cruz Nichols that night, tell me—how many times did he make love to you?"

Miranda hesitated, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Cruz himself watched, his eyes narrowing sharply. Adalee let out a soft chuckle. "See, Miranda, you obviously don't know Cruz at all. That night, he made love to me ten times! You think this baby bump just appeared out of thin air?"

The crowd erupted in whispers, disbelief coloring their faces. Ten times? Was that even humanly possible? Spending the whole night doing that? It was mind-boggling.

Cruz's eyes turned dark and intense. Miranda's cheeks burned with embarrassment and uncertainty. "I-I knew that," she stammered, scrambling to save face. "I told you myself."

Adalee smiled knowingly. "Really? Then tell us something else about Cruz."

Miranda was stumped. She had no idea if Cruz had any distinctive marks—she'd barely managed to hide under the covers that night before he woke up, so she hadn't gotten a chance to notice anything important.

Adalee's lips curled into a playful smirk. "Well, let me help you out—he has a birthmark on his backside!"

Gasps rippled through the room.

Cruz Nichols, the genius business tycoon, had a birthmark on his butt? The absurdity of it made some guests snicker behind their hands.

Cruz's expression darkened.

Miranda quickly blurted out, "I knew that too! I'm the one who told you about it!"

She smugly thought Adalee was still the same fool, airing such an embarrassing secret in public. In Miranda's mind, Cruz's pride would push him to unleash his fury on Adalee for humiliating him.

But while Miranda was internally gloating, Adalee burst into laughter, her brows arching with mischief. "There was no 'ten times' and no 'birthmark.' I made it all up—and you actually believed it!"

Miranda stood dumbstruck. Everyone else was equally stunned.

Meanwhile, Cruz's lips twitched ever so slightly, his gaze landing on Adalee with a newfound spark of intrigue.

Realizing she'd been played, Miranda's anger flared. "Sis, you've gone too far—joking about Cruz like that. Aren't you afraid he'll get angry and punish you?"

Adalee shrugged carelessly, patting her small baby bump. "Well, I'm carrying his child. If he wants to hurt the both of us, that's his call. But I believe Cruz, who clearly cherishes his child, will forgive me."

She shot a playful look at Cruz, her eyes twinkling. "Isn't that right, Cruz?"

Cruz's gaze settled on her belly, his eyes growing deeper. Could it be real? A life—his child—growing inside her? An unfamiliar emotion stirred in his chest, cracking his usual composed shell. Was Adalee truly the woman from that night? The mother of his unborn child?

Cruz swallowed hard as he stepped toward Adalee, but Miranda lunged forward, clinging to his arm. "Cruz, please don't trust her! My sister is unstable—she's always talking nonsense. I only played along to keep her from having a breakdown, but you have to believe me!"

Yet without a moment's hesitation, Cruz pulled his arm free from Miranda's grip. His cold gaze pierced through her like ice, laced with disdain. "Enough."

Miranda trembled, unable to meet the piercing stare of the man before her. The others in the hall sensed the shift in Cruz's attitude, suddenly wondering if Adalee's claims might actually hold some truth.

Cruz left Miranda standing on the stage and walked straight toward Adalee. A spotlight followed him, catching the quiet nobility in his stride. He looked like a figure lifted straight out of a Renaissance painting—all lean lines and aristocratic grace.

This man, desired by countless women, came to a stop beside Adalee.

Cruz stared at Adalee for a long moment. The hall was dead silent.

Finally he spoke, his voice low but clear enough for everyone to hear.

"I need a private word with both of you. Now."

He didn't wait for permission. He took Adalee's hand and led her, along with a pale-faced Miranda, into the side room just off the main hall. The heavy doors closed behind them.

Only then did he turn to Adalee, his dark eyes searching hers.

"Was it you that night?"

Though it sounded like a question, his tone carried certainty. The energy she gave off was hauntingly familiar.

Adalee tried to pull her hand back, but eventually relented with a firm nod. "Yes. It was me."

Cruz was quiet for several seconds. He interlaced their fingers, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I believe you."

He didn't need more proof. His gut told him she was the one from that night—and Miranda was nothing but a fraud.

Adalee blinked, caught off guard. She'd expected to have to convince him further.

Then he looked at Miranda, his expression turning cold.

"We're done here."

When they walked back out, Cruz's hand was still firmly around Adalee's. He stopped in front of the officiant and said, voice steady, "There's been a change. This is the woman I'm marrying today."

The entire Nichols family stared in disbelief.

Madeleine Nichols, Cruz's mother, frowned deeply. "Cruz, what do you mean? You can't seriously believe what she just said."

Cruz confirmed, "Yes. The man from three months ago was me, and the child she's carrying is mine."

The Nichols family sat in stunned silence. The Morgan family gaped.

Miranda's face went ghostly pale.

"I intended to marry Miranda out of responsibility because I thought she was the woman from that night. But now..." Cruz pulled Adalee closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "My bride is changing."

Adalee felt the warmth of his palm against her hip, a jolt of electricity shooting through her body. Her mind went blank for a second. Her original plan was just to stop Miranda from marrying Cruz—not to get tangled up in a marriage herself.

But before she could react, Cruz was already guiding her onto the stage. She met Miranda's venomous glare, burning with jealousy. Smirking, Adalee leaned into Cruz's chest, feigning a happiness that only poured more fuel on Miranda's rage.

Cruz's lips curved into a barely-there smile as he felt Adalee nestle against him. Ignoring Miranda's tearful eyes, he lifted the bridal veil from Miranda's head and settled it onto Adalee's instead.

Adalee was stunned. Was a veil all it took to make someone a bride?

Cruz glanced at the dazed officiant, bypassing all formalities, and pulled out a ring, sliding it toward Adalee's finger.

On instinct, Adalee curled her fingers, resisting. As much as she was drawn to him, she hesitated to marry Cruz—a man who'd once been tangled up with Miranda.

Cruz's dark eyes deepened, his lips pressing together with a flicker of impatience.

But Adalee wasn't scared. She met his gaze head-on, defiance written all over her face. Yet, as she took in the man before her—with a physique that could rival any model and a face that was almost unfairly handsome—she reconsidered. Maybe marrying him wasn't such a bad deal after all.

With that thought, she straightened her fingers.

Cruz seized the moment and took her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger before she could overthink it again.

The gesture left her momentarily dizzy, but soon acceptance settled in. She'd thwarted Miranda, and she could use Cruz's status to protect her unborn child—a win-win.

Plus, for the sake of their baby, there wasn't much she wouldn't do. Adalee caught Miranda's envious stare from the sidelines and answered it with a serene smile, then turned a loving gaze up at Cruz.

The officiant finally pulled himself together and cleared his throat. "Ahem—may the groom and bride share a kiss!"