The Wedding That Wasn't

The Wedding That Wasn't

Gavin

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Victoria Hayes, heiress of the New York Hayes family, was poised to marry Ethan Miller. For four years, I' d meticulously molded him from a broke university kid into a successful entrepreneur. He was my creation, meant to be a living echo of Julian Vance, my first love, tragically lost. But on the eve of our wedding, a chilling overheard conversation shattered my perfectly constructed world. I discovered Ethan, his pathologically obsessive ex Chloe, and even his family, were plotting my public humiliation at the altar. His whispered "Alright. I'll do it" twisted my stomach, revealing the man I' d idealized was a cheap, cruel fake. He later abandoned me during a fire alarm, grabbing Chloe first, leaving me trampled and injured. I overheard him confess he "despised" me, viewing me only as a controlling ATM. The agonizing pain wasn't for him, but for my wasted years and his utter contempt. How could I have been so foolish, investing so much in such a calculating fraud? I wasn't a victim; I was furious, utterly betrayed, and finally, free. My illusion shattered, my resolve hardened, and I calmly called my mother: "Cancel the wedding. I'm coming to London." Tomorrow, I' d depart, not as a jilted bride, but as the architect of his public downfall. My path now clear, I was ready for a new life unfettered by shadows or substitutes.

Introduction

Victoria Hayes, heiress of the New York Hayes family, was poised to marry Ethan Miller.

For four years, I' d meticulously molded him from a broke university kid into a successful entrepreneur.

He was my creation, meant to be a living echo of Julian Vance, my first love, tragically lost.

But on the eve of our wedding, a chilling overheard conversation shattered my perfectly constructed world.

I discovered Ethan, his pathologically obsessive ex Chloe, and even his family, were plotting my public humiliation at the altar.

His whispered "Alright. I'll do it" twisted my stomach, revealing the man I' d idealized was a cheap, cruel fake.

He later abandoned me during a fire alarm, grabbing Chloe first, leaving me trampled and injured.

I overheard him confess he "despised" me, viewing me only as a controlling ATM.

The agonizing pain wasn't for him, but for my wasted years and his utter contempt.

How could I have been so foolish, investing so much in such a calculating fraud?

I wasn't a victim; I was furious, utterly betrayed, and finally, free.

My illusion shattered, my resolve hardened, and I calmly called my mother: "Cancel the wedding. I'm coming to London."

Tomorrow, I' d depart, not as a jilted bride, but as the architect of his public downfall.

My path now clear, I was ready for a new life unfettered by shadows or substitutes.

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I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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