Chapter 1

My phone rang for the tenth time. It was Olivia. I stared at her name on the screen, my gut twisting. This was our wedding day. I was standing in a tuxedo, in a church filled with hundreds of our friends and family, and my bride was not here.

"Ethan, please understand," her voice came through the phone, thin and distant. "Liam needs me. He fell during a stunt on set. The doctor said it' s serious."

My knuckles turned white around my phone. "Serious? Olivia, we are getting married in thirty minutes. Our families are here. The media is outside. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"Tell them... tell them I'm sorry. Liam is all alone. He has no one else."

This was not new. It was always Liam. Two months ago, on the night of our engagement party, she left in the middle of a toast because Liam claimed his dog was sick. Last month, she missed our final meeting with the wedding planner because Liam said he was getting threats from obsessive fans and needed her to stay with him for protection. Each time, I forgave her. Each time, I told myself her heart was just too kind.

"So that' s it?" My voice was low, dangerously calm. "You' re choosing him over me. On our wedding day."

"Don't make it sound like that, Ethan," she said, her tone suddenly full of accusation. "You' re making me choose. It' s not fair. I thought you loved me. I thought you would support me."

She was a master at this. Twisting the situation until I was the villain, the one who was being unreasonable.

"I have to go, Ethan. His manager is calling me again. We' ll talk later."

Before I could say another word, she hung up.

The silence in the small room behind the altar was deafening. I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of my phone. A fool in a tuxedo. Humiliation washed over me, hot and suffocating.

I heard the murmuring from the guests outside the door. I heard my mother's worried voice asking my best man where I was.

Something inside me snapped.

With a roar of pure rage, I hurled my phone against the wall. It shattered, the pieces scattering across the floor like broken promises. I kicked over a small table, sending a vase of white lilies crashing to the ground. Water and petals sprayed everywhere.

The door flew open. My father and mother stared at me, their faces a mixture of shock and concern.

"Ethan! What is going on?" my mother cried, rushing to my side.

I ignored her. I walked past them, out of the small room and onto the altar, facing the sea of confused faces. I grabbed the microphone from the stand. My hand was shaking, but my voice was steady.

"The wedding is off," I announced. The words echoed in the silent church. Gasps rippled through the crowd. "Olivia Green has decided she has somewhere more important to be."

I didn't wait for the fallout. I walked down the aisle, past the stunned guests, past the wilting flowers and the mocking white ribbons. I pushed through the church doors and into the blinding flash of cameras. The reporters swarmed me like vultures.

I ignored them all, got into my car, and drove. I didn't know where I was going. My mind was a blank storm of pain and anger. Then, an idea formed. A reckless, insane idea.

I pulled over, grabbed the spare phone from the glove compartment, and dialed a number I knew by heart. A number I called only when I was closing a deal or declaring a corporate war.

She picked up on the second ring. Her voice was as crisp and sharp as always.

"Ethan Miller. To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you finally decide to concede the telecom bid?"

I took a deep breath. "Chloe Adams. I have a proposal for you."

"I'm listening," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Marry me," I said. "Right now."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. I could almost hear the gears turning in her brilliant, competitive mind. I counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. Ten. I was about to hang up, to dismiss the whole thing as a moment of madness.

"Okay," she said finally. Her voice was completely level, without a hint of surprise. "I accept."

I was the one who was shocked now. "You... you do?"

"Yes," she said. "But on one condition."

"What is it?"

"From this day forward, in this marriage," she said, her voice dropping to a low, serious tone, "I'm in charge."