Chapter 1 Prologue

Anaya Castellanos stood outside the chapel, hands clenched in front of her, trying to steady her breath.

Questions crowded her mind.

Was Ethan about to propose?

Why had Jenna texted her instead of him?

Maybe it was a surprise. Something big. Something terrifying in that beautiful, heart-thudding kind of way.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

God, please, let this be it.

The wind whispered across her skin, like it too was searching for clues. She glanced down at her phone again.

"Come to the chapel. He's expecting you." - Jenna.

Anaya had waited for this moment. Prayed for it. Imagined it over and over - Ethan on one knee, ring in hand, whispering forever. Their relationship hadn't been sexual, not fully. But it was more than just soft looks and long drive. He had hinted more than once about settling down.

This had to be it.

She didn't even notice the cold. Didn't care that her palms were sweaty or her breath caught on every inhale. This moment had to mean something.

Still... why Jenna?

They hadn't spoken in almost a year-not since the night Jenna threw wine in her face at the party and said, loud for everyone to hear, that Anaya was just a debt with lipstick.

A spoiled Mafia pet.

Anaya blinked, once. Breathed in through her nose.

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

Whatever this was... she had to see it through.

She pushed the heavy chapel doors open.

Inside, sunlight filtered through stained glass, painting quiet colors across the floor. White lilies lined the aisle. Somewhere, soft music played like a memory you couldn't quite place.

Quests sat quietly on either side, heads slightly turned - waiting.

Her heart fluttered.

At the altar stood Jenna.

Drapes in designer silk, red lipstick unbothered, holding a veil like a crown she hadn't claimed yet.

Anaya froze mid-aisle.

Something was wrong. The flowers. The guests. The music.

This wasn't love. This wasn't surprise. This was a set up.

Jenna smile came slow, familiar, polite but poisonous.

"Hey stranger."

Anaya's voice caught. "What... what is this?"

Jenna stepped forward, her heels clicking like secrets.

"You always did love a dramatic twist, didn't you?"

Anaya's throat burned. She didn't want to ask. But silence pressed down too cruelly.

"Where's Ethan?"

Jenna tilted her head, veil still in hand.

"Getting dressed."

The veil dropped to the floor like a slow insult.

Anaya's chest caved in. Her world shifted.

"He proposed last week," Jenna added, her voice syrup-sweet. "Quick, but... you know how Ethan is when he really wants something. Or maybe you didn't."

Footsteps sounded behind her.

She turned.

There he was.

Ethan.

Calm. Perfectly dressed in the black Ivory suit she once helped him choose.

Their eyes met.

And that's when she knew it, he had chosen Jenna. Not her.

"Why... " she whispered. "You promised me..."

Jenna slid on her veil, smirking. "Watching you break," she said, "is prettier than any dress I'll wear today."

"I'm sorry, Ana." Quiet. Almost tender. Like he wished it were different, but not enough to make it so.

A memory flickered - weeks ago, Ethan had whispered, "You're it for me. I just don't know how to deserve you yet."

She'd believed him. Every word.

Now, here in this room full of flowers and betrayal, her throat closed.

Her chest rose and fell, harder now. The sting built behind her eyes. Tears swelled, trembling at the edges, but she blinked them back.

She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not for them. Not for a boy who made forever sound like something disposable.

---

The memory blurred, but the pain stayed.

His voice still rang in her ears, like a bruise that wouldn't fade.

She wasn't weak, not before all this.

She used to believe in second chances. In good men. In fate. But none of that mattered now.

Betrayals like that... it doesn't cut. It bleeds.

"Hold still," a woman muttered, lifting a white dress.

Anaya jerked back. "Don't touch me."

"It's just a dress."

"No, it's not."

The woman reached again. Anaya bit her hand, sharp and fast.

"God-!" The woman recoiled. "Little salvage."

Anaya didn't flinch.

The woman sneered. "Biting won't bring him back. Your prince is off getting married today. Fancy wedding. Doves and all."

Anaya's chest tightened.

The woman tossed a phone onto the table. Unlocked. On-screen: a video thumbnail. The wedding. The vows. The ring.

The same design. The one he'd once given Anaya. The one she still wore everyday like a promise.

Her knees buckled slightly.

Her father's voice echoed from the hallway.

"It's just business, Ana."

He had sold cars. Lands. Jewelries.

Now her.

Just another thing to trade for power.

"Get her ready," he ordered. "They're waiting."

Anaya stared at the screen one last time. Then tore the chain from her neck and dropped it to the floor.

It hurt.

But not enough to make her stay the girl who waited.