The Day My Wedding Ring Outshone His Empty Promises

The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the exclusive Fifth Avenue bridal boutique as I arrived for my final dress fitting. The anticipation I'd felt all week had pulled me from bed before dawn, eager to see myself in the custom gown I'd spend months designing. In less than forty-eight hours, I would be Mrs. Marcus Kane—the culmination of five years pretending to be someone I wasn't, all for love. "Ms. Sterling, I—" Madame Beaumont, the boutique's owner, rushed toward me with an expression I'd never seen on her typically composed face. "There's been a... situation." Something in her voice made my stomach drop. "What kind of situation?" "Your gown," she said, wringing her hands. "It's not here." "Not here?" I repeated, my voice unnaturally calm despite the panic rising in my chest.

The morning light streamed through the glass walls of Ephraim's penthouse solarium, casting prisms across my lap. I adjusted my position on the white leather chaise, angling my private tablet away from the door. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at the screen. "Ms. Harrison, we are pleased to inform you that your application for the senior designer position at Blackwell & Associates has been accepted..." I traced my finger over the words, reading them for the fifth time. A job offer. In London. Under a name that wasn't Hailey Jenkins, the girl who belonged to Ephraim Ellis. The tablet felt hot in my hands—dangerous, thrilling. For ten years, I'd existed within the boundaries Ephraim had drawn for me.

I ran through the freezing rain, desperate to escape the Pennington estate. My adoptive family had raised me for one purpose: to be sold off as a bargaining chip in a wealthy arranged marriage. But before I could reach the highway, I was cornered. Not just by my family's cruel guards, but by Hollis Wall—a terrifying, ruthless billionaire who snapped my tormentor's wrist and dragged me into his car. He didn't want a ransom. He threw a prenuptial agreement in my lap. I thought he was insane until he took a scalpel to his own arm, and a burning agony ripped across my flawless skin. Because of a near-drowning accident three years ago, our nervous systems were linked. Every time I bled, he felt the agony. He locked me in his fortress to keep me safe, but when I finally escaped back to my adoptive parents, they didn't protect me. Instead, my adoptive father smiled and showed me a live video of my biological father on life support, a guard's hand hovering over the plug. "You will marry Douglas Cherry tomorrow, or your father dies," he sneered. My own family was willing to murder my only real flesh and blood just to secure their wealth. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor, my heart crushed in a vice of absolute, suffocating despair. "I'll marry him," I sobbed, surrendering to the darkness. But miles away, in his dark study, the ruthless Hollis Wall violently collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as my severe panic attack bled directly into his chest. Our twisted bond was killing him, and I knew he would tear the city apart to find me.

The pencil stilled between my fingers as my phone vibrated against the desk. I recognized the number immediately—Sullivan never used my ringtone, always letting it buzz until I answered. My stomach clenched as I set down my sketchbook and flipped it open. "Eden." His voice was clipped, businesslike. "I need you to deliver something." I glanced at my watch—3:42 PM. My small home studio was bathed in afternoon light, the kind that made my jewelry designs sparkle on paper. For a moment, I pretended I had somewhere important to be. "Now?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yes, now." Sullivan didn't bother hiding his impatience. "There's a package on our bed.

The champagne bottle sweats in my grip as I balance the bakery box against my hip, fumbling with the spare key Max gave me six months ago. The metal is warm from being clutched too tight during the entire cab ride to his penthouse. My heart hammers against my ribs—not from the climb up to the fortieth floor, but from the weight of the velvet box hidden in my coat pocket. Three years. Three years of late-night conversations, of his hand finding mine across restaurant tables, of whispered promises about our future. Tonight, I'm going to ask him to marry me. The lock clicks. I push open the door, already rehearsing my speech, when my heel catches on something—a newspaper, abandoned on the marble entryway. I bend to move it aside, and the headline detonates in my vision like a flashbang. **WEDDING OF THE CENTURY: Hart Heir Weds Webb Heiress in Secret Morning Ceremony** The champagne bottle slips.

He became crippled because of me,but I ran away from the man I loved...and fell into the arms of his father. One reckless night with a stranger should have ended there, until I learned the stranger was Lucien Sinclair, the self-made billionaire CEO of the Sinclair Empire. My ex-boyfriend's father. Now I'm trapped in a contract marriage with a devil, who forces me to watch my past and present collide under the same roof. And betrayal? It's my daily dose...especially when my best friend steals my husband right before my eyes. Then the nightmare turns fatal. I'm pregnant... with twins. One child belongs to the father. The other belongs to the son. No matter who I choose......someone I love will burn.