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The Girl He Threw Away Ended Up With His Best Friend Novel Cover

The Girl He Threw Away Ended Up With His Best Friend

For two years, I was Kai Mercer's secret—a concealed lover kept behind his strategic engagement. At his opulent gala-wedding, he destroyed me publicly, trading our bond for his empire. With his father now pursuing me, I escaped to Rhys, Kai's closest friend, where refuge unexpectedly grew into genuine, unguarded affection. When Kai learns the truth, he forfeits his fortune and annuls his sham marriage, pleading for my return. But his desperate redemption comes too late—I now belong to the man who mended what Kai broke.
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Chapter 2

"White wine or sparkling water, miss?"

The server held a silver tray tilted toward my chest.

"Neither. Thank you."

I kept my back pressed against the fluted marble column near the edge of the grand ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast sharp, white glare across five hundred guests dressed in black tie and couture silk.

At the center of the raised dais stood Kai.

A custom tuxedo framed his broad shoulders. Beside him, Seraphina Laurent glowed in ivory lace, her hand resting casually on his forearm as they greeted a pair of state senators.

I told myself I only came to look once. Just one final glance to burn the truth into my retinas and kill whatever stupid, clinging hope remained in my chest.

Then Kai turned his head.

Our eyes met across forty feet of polished parquet.

The blood drained from his face for a single second. Then his jaw hardened into stone. He glanced toward the far corner of the room, where his father, Marcus, stood watching him like a hawk over open water.

Kai whispered something to Seraphina. She looked toward me, her brow arching in disdain.

He didn't send security. He set his champagne glass on a passing tray and marched directly toward me.

Every stride was brisk and sharp. The chatter near my pillar died down as people noticed the groom cutting across the floor with fury in his posture.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you sneaking in here?" Kai's voice rang out, loud enough to stop three nearby conversations cold.

I straightened my spine. "I didn't sneak in, Kai. I—"

"Save it," he snapped, stepping into my personal space. The scent of his familiar sandalwood cologne hit me, but his eyes were pure venom. "How many times do I have to tell you it's over before it sinks into your skull?"

The surrounding guests turned their heads. Whispers flared like dry tinder catching a spark.

"Lower your voice," I whispered, the heat rushing into my neck. "I only came to—"

"To what? Stalk me on my wedding day?" Kai barked, projecting his words toward the center of the room. "You think showing up uninvited gives you some kind of claim on me?"

"Kai, stop," I said, my voice shaking. "You know that's not true."

"What's true is that you are pathetic," he snarled. His lip curled in disgust, an expression so grotesque and unfamiliar on his face that it felt like a slap. "I told you weeks ago to take your things and leave this city. I gave you more than enough money to disappear."

A gasp rippled through the nearest circle of socialites.

"Is that the girl from the museum?" a woman whispered.

"She actually came to his wedding?" another answered, chuckling under her breath. "Shameless."

Marcus Mercer remained by the bar, raising his glass slightly toward his son. Kai saw the gesture out of the corner of his eye.

"You were a casual fling, Elowen," Kai declared, loud and clear for the room to absorb. "A distraction while I was setting up my life. But you couldn't accept that, could you? You had to crawl into my reception like a desperate stray."

"Is that what you're telling them?" My throat tightened, but I forced my gaze to stay locked onto his. "Is that what you need to tell yourself?"

"I don't need to tell myself anything," he sneered, leaning in close enough that only I caught the strain in his voice. "Get out of my sight. If you ever contact my wife, my family, or come near my home again, I will have you arrested for harassment. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," I said.

My nails bit into my palms until the skin nearly broke. I didn't scream. I didn't cry.

Instead, a quiet, humorless smile touched my lips.

Kai blinked, a flicker of panic darting through his pupils at the sight of my smile. "What are you smirking at?"

"You," I said softly, loud enough only for him. "Enjoy your cage."

I turned on my heel and walked away.

Dozens of eyes bore into my back. Smirks, muffled laughs, and icy stares lined the path like a gauntlet.

"Security should escort her out," a voice muttered.

"Imagine having so little dignity," someone else murmured.

I kept my head up until I pushed through the heavy acoustic double doors leading toward the private service corridor. The brass latches clicked shut behind me, muting the orchestra into a dull thrum.

The hallway was cold, lined with polished granite and emergency exits.

My breath came fast, ragged and shallow. I stumbled against the wall, clutching the cool stone to keep my knees from buckling underneath me.

"You shouldn't have come."

The voice came from the shadows by the service elevators.

I jerked upright, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

Rhys leaned against the elevator frame, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black tuxedo. He had known Kai since prep school. He was the one who had introduced us at an alumni gala two years ago.

"Are you going to yell at me too?" I asked, my voice cracking at the edges. "Go ahead. Everyone else had their turn."

Rhys stepped forward into the overhead light. His features were solemn, devoid of the cruel amusement that had filled the ballroom.

"I'm not Kai," he said quietly.

"You watched him do that," I said, retreating half a step. "You stood right there."

"I did."

"And you think I'm a stalker too?"

"I know what you are, Elowen," Rhys answered. "You're the person he threw under the bus so his father wouldn't strip his inheritance."

A bitter sound caught in my throat. "At least someone in that room has the courage to admit it."

"Courage won't help you tonight," Rhys said, his voice dropping an octave. He reached inside his jacket, pulled out a heavy metal key fob, and held it out toward me. "Take this."

I stared at the silver emblem on the fob. "What is that?"

"A way out."

"I came by cab."

"There are three paparazzi vans parked outside the main lobby," Rhys said flatly. "Marcus tipped them off before the toast. In five minutes, Kai's security team will throw you out the front doors right into the flashbulbs. By morning, your face will be on every gossip site in the country as the crazy mistress who tried to ruin the Mercer wedding."

The cold returned, settling deep in my stomach. "Marcus planned that?"

"Marcus never leaves loose ends," Rhys said. "Take the keys. Service elevator behind me goes straight to basement level two. Bay twenty-one. It's an unmarked dark gray coupe."

I didn't move. "Why are you helping me, Rhys? You're his best friend."

"Because I have a conscience," he said, pressing the cold metal fob firmly into my palm. His fingers closed over mine, tight and urgent. "And because Kai isn't the only Mercer who deserves to lose."

I frowned, looking up into his dark eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means drive south, stay off the toll roads, and don't go back to your apartment," Rhys said, releasing my hand. "The address programmed in the car's navigation is safe. Someone is waiting there for you."

"Who?"

Before Rhys could answer, the heavy double doors at the end of the corridor banged open.

"She went down this way!" an unfamiliar voice shouted. Heavy footsteps echoed against the tile.

Rhys pushed the call button on the elevator. The doors slid open instantly.

"Get in," Rhys commanded, his tone leaving no room for debate. "Go."

I stepped into the elevator cab. The steel doors began to glide shut, cutting off the sight of two uniformed guards rounding the corner behind him.

The elevator dropped.

I looked down at the key fob in my hand. Beneath the silver logo, taped to the back of the plastic casing, was a folded slip of paper.

I peeled it off and unfolded it.

Scrawled in sharp black ink was a single sentence:

*The text you got at the penthouse wasn't from a stranger. Welcome to the other side.*

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