Chapter 1: The Wrong Groom
The bridal suite buzzed with excitement.
Bridesmaids hurried from one corner of the room to another, fixing the train of Isabella Hart's satin gown while a makeup artist added the final touch of lipstick. Laughter filled the air, but Isabella barely heard it.
Her eyes remained fixed on the framed photograph sitting on the vanity.
It was a picture of her and Ethan King taken two years earlier on a beach at sunset. He had his arm around her shoulders, both of them smiling as if nothing in the world could ever come between them.
Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
After five years together, she was finally marrying the man she loved.
"You look nervous," her best friend, Chloe, teased as she adjusted Isabella's veil.
"I am nervous."
"You've been dreaming about this day forever."
"I know."
Chloe smiled warmly. "Then stop worrying. Ethan loves you. In less than an hour, you'll officially become Mrs. King."
Mrs. King.
The words sounded unreal.
Isabella laughed softly.
"I still can't believe it."
A knock interrupted them.
Her father stepped inside wearing a charcoal suit. His smile was gentle, but there were dark circles beneath his eyes.
"You look just like your mother," he whispered.
Tears threatened to spill from Isabella's eyes.
"I wish she were here."
"So do I."
He kissed her forehead.
"She's watching over you today."
Isabella slipped her hand into his.
"Thank you for everything, Dad."
His smile faltered for the briefest moment before returning.
"Always."
She noticed him glance at his phone.
His expression tightened.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
He quickly locked the screen.
"Just work."
She wasn't convinced, but before she could ask another question, the wedding coordinator entered.
"It's time."
A hush fell over the room.
The music began.
The cathedral doors opened.
Hundreds of guests rose to their feet.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead while white roses lined the aisle.
At the far end stood the groom.
His face was hidden by the distance, but Isabella's heart fluttered anyway.
This was it.
She took her father's arm.
Step by step, they walked down the aisle.
Guests smiled.
Cameras flashed.
A string quartet played softly.
Everything felt like a dream.
Halfway down the aisle, Isabella frowned.
Something felt... wrong.
The groom hadn't smiled once.
Ethan always smiled when he saw her.
Always.
She told herself she was imagining things.
The veil blurred her vision.
Maybe she simply couldn't see his expression clearly.
She kept walking.
Ten more steps.
Five.
Three.
Finally, she stood before him.
The groom lifted her veil.
Time stopped.
The world disappeared.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Those weren't Ethan's warm brown eyes.
They were cold blue ones.
The sharp jaw.
The commanding posture.
The emotionless face.
Alexander King.
Ethan's older brother.
The billionaire every business magazine called ruthless.
"No..." Isabella breathed.
She stumbled backward.
"There has to be some mistake."
Alexander caught her hand before she could fall.
His grip was firm.
Steady.
"There's no mistake."
Her father suddenly looked away.
Why wouldn't he meet her eyes?
"Where's Ethan?" she demanded.
Nobody answered.
She looked from one guest to another.
Every face seemed tense.
Every smile had vanished.
She turned back to Alexander.
"Where is he?"
Alexander leaned closer.
His voice was calm.
"Soften your expression."
"What?"
"The cameras are still recording."
"I don't care about the cameras!"
"You should."
His gaze flickered toward her father.
"If this wedding doesn't happen..."
He paused.
"...your father loses everything."
Her stomach dropped.
"What are you talking about?"
"Smile."
"No."
"Smile."
"I said no!"
For the first time, Alexander's mask cracked.
There was something in his eyes.
Not anger.
Not triumph.
Something almost like... regret.
"I never wanted it to happen this way."
The priest cleared his throat awkwardly.
"We can begin whenever the bride is ready."
Ready?
Was everyone pretending this was normal?
Isabella searched the crowd desperately.
"Ethan!"
Silence.
She raised her voice.
"Ethan!"
Nothing.
Her breathing became uneven.
She looked toward her father again.
"Dad... tell me what's happening."
His shoulders slumped.
"I'm sorry."
Two simple words.
They shattered her world.
"Sorry for what?"
He couldn't answer.
Alexander slipped something into her hand.
A folded piece of paper.
She opened it with trembling fingers.
There was only one sentence.
Marry Alexander... or your father goes to prison today.
The note slipped from her fingers.
Her knees weakened.
She stared at Alexander, searching for any sign that this was some cruel joke.
His expression remained unreadable.
The priest smiled nervously.
"Shall we continue?"
The cathedral waited.
Hundreds of guests watched in complete silence.
Every camera remained fixed on Isabella.
She realized she had only two choices.
Run...
Or marry the wrong billionaire.
The priest turned toward Alexander.
"Do you take Isabella Hart to be your lawful wife?"
Without hesitation, Alexander answered,
"I do."
The priest slowly faced Isabella.
"And do you, Isabella Hart..."
She opened her mouth—
Just as the cathedral doors burst open.