Reborn Heiress: The Cheating Fiancé's Regret

A dozen men in sharp black suits and earpieces flooded the room first, moving with disciplined speed to secure the perimeter. Gasps and panicked whispers erupted from the guests.

Then, he appeared.

A tall figure, silhouetted against the light of the hallway. He walked into the ballroom, his presence sucking all the air out of the room. He wore a custom-tailored black suit, no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. An aura of raw, dangerous power radiated from him.

Damian Kensington.

Aria's heart seized in her chest. He was here. Just like last time. But this time, she didn't feel fear. She felt... relief.

Blake's face contorted with rage. "Damian Kensington! What the hell is the meaning of this? This is my wedding!"

Damian's icy blue eyes never once flickered toward Blake. They were locked on Aria, and only Aria, as if her fiancé was nothing more than a piece of furniture.

The guests murmured amongst themselves. The name Kensington carried the weight of an empire in New York. No one dared to intervene.

He strode down the aisle, his long legs eating up the distance, until he stood before her on the altar. The scent of him-expensive cologne and something cold, like winter woods-enveloped her.

He loomed over her, his gaze a complex storm of anger, possession, and a sliver of pain she couldn't decipher.

"Aria," he finally spoke, his voice a low, rough growl. "Are you really so desperate to marry this man?"

In her past life, she would have screamed at him to leave.

This time, she met his intense gaze and gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Damian's expression faltered, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

Then, in a move that stunned everyone, Aria gathered the skirt of her wedding dress and took a deliberate step toward Damian, creating a clear space between herself and Blake.

"Aria, are you insane? Get back here!" Blake snarled, reaching for her.

Before his fingers could touch her, Damian's hand shot out, clamping around Blake's wrist. A sickening crack echoed through the silent room, followed by Blake's howl of pain.

"Don't put your filthy hands on her," Damian said, his voice lethal. He shoved Blake away like a piece of trash.

The next moment, he scooped Aria into his arms.

She let out a small gasp, her hands flying to his shoulders. His chest was a wall of solid muscle, his heartbeat a steady, powerful rhythm against her ear. It was the same feeling of safety she'd felt when he pulled her from a fire in her past life.

He turned and walked away, his bodyguards parting to form a path.

"Mr. Kensington, put my daughter down!" her father, Charles Montgomery, shouted, rushing forward with her brother, Ethan.

Damian paused, his gaze sweeping over them with cold disdain. "Mr. Montgomery, you of all people should remember the agreement between our families. She belongs to me now."

An agreement? Aria's mind raced. She'd never known about any agreement.

Her father's face went pale. He opened his mouth, then closed it, offering no further resistance.

From the side, Cassie watched, her face a mask of utter disbelief. She couldn't comprehend why Aria would go willingly with this man.

As Damian carried her past them, Aria turned her head. She met the venomous, confused eyes of Blake and Cassie.

She mouthed two silent words to them.

Game on.

Damian carried her through the hotel lobby, a swarm of reporters held back by his security team. He placed her gently in the backseat of a black Rolls-Royce, the door closing with a solid thud, shutting out the chaos.

Inside, the silence was deafening. Damian sat across from her, his face a hard, unreadable mask. He just stared, his eyes boring into her as if trying to peel back her skin and see the truth of her soul.

He had saved her, but he didn't trust her. Not one bit. The wounds she'd inflicted in their past life ran too deep.

She had to be the one to bridge the gap.

She smoothed down her dress, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you."

Damian let out a cold, humorless scoff, turning to look out the window. "Don't misunderstand. I'm simply collecting what's mine. Don't try to pull any more of your tricks, Aria."