Billionaire's runaway bride

el

the gown. Her movements were quick but careful, her brow furrowed with concentration as she muttered curses under her breath. The fabric bunched awkwardly as she worked, and I struggled to stay still, my heart pounding

s of her voice. She tugged at the next button, her nails scraping against the delicate fabric. The tension

with nerves. I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself groun

r way of grounding me. Sophie always had a knack for cutting through the chaos

y ribs like a drumbeat, each thud making my legs feel weaker and more unsteady. I was terrified that at any moment my body would betray m

fabric. It pooled at my feet in a glittering pile, a discarded dream that had once seemed so perfect but now felt like a nightmare. I stepped out of it

a pair of jeans and a sweater into my hands. I glanced at t

d to ask, but she cut me

her voice brooking no argument

nd it smelled faintly of lavender and detergent. The scent was comforting, almost nostalgic, like something from a simpler time. The jeans were a little baggy, but I barely noticed. The mo

ed with the laces, the adrenaline still coursing through me making even the simplest tasks feel m

whether I could pass for someone who wasn't supposed to be walking down the aisle of an extravagant wedding ri

It didn't quite reach my eyes, but it was the best I c

ed on my shoulder, its familiar weight grounding me in the moment. It wasn't much, just a sm

hie asked, her voice sh

ready running through the contents of my wallet.

lize you're gone, that's the first thing they'll check. They'll tra

were like a lifeline, giving me clear instructions whe

er usual confidence wavered, and for the first time, I saw the f

No. Not even a little. Every fiber of my being was screaming with uncertainty. But what was the alternative? Staying

out. My voice sounded firmer than I fe

in her eyes, only quiet understanding. "Okay," she said softly. "Then you'd better go. I

out to do hitting me all at once. I glanced at Sophie,

aid, my voice th

e tinged with wry humor. "Do you even have

small, sheepish laugh. "N

s affection in the gesture. "Figu

was small and shaky, but it was real. "I'll figure it out," I sai

ousness returning. "Now *that* I can help wit

ut it lightened, becoming something I could carry. I didn't know where I was going or what would happen ne

on me like an invisible force. The hallway outside was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that felt almost unnatural in a house this grand and full of people. Somewhere far below, I could hear the faint

last time. My voice wavered, thick with gratitude and the bitter

. "Go," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Before I change my mind and drag you ba

d, the door clicking shut behind me. My heart was pounding so hard now it felt like a drum

d then started down the hallway, each step feeli