Discarded Bride, Billionaire's Obsession

I should have known something was wrong when my fiancé didn't answer my calls all morning.

I stood in the bridal suite, staring at myself in the mirror. The white dress hugged my body perfectly-too perfectly, actually, because I'd barely eaten for three days straight. My stomach had been in knots since Monday when Adrian came home smelling like her perfume. Again.

"Miss Emma, you look beautiful," the makeup artist said, touching up my lipstick.

I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe that today would be different. That Adrian would look at me the way he used to, back when we first met at that charity gala three years ago. Before his childhood friend Melissa came back from Paris. Before everything turned cold.

My phone buzzed. Finally.

Adrian:Running late. Start without me.

Start without him? At our own wedding?

My hands shook as I typed back.

Me:What do you mean start without you? Adrian, everyone's already seated.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Adrian:Just walk down the aisle. I'll be there.

Gosh!...I couldn't think straight.Something twisted in my chest. This wasn't right. Nothing about this felt right.

"Miss Emma?" The wedding planner poked her head in. "It's time."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he really was just stuck in traffic. Maybe I will just assume what it is not.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, I heard it.

Crying.

Not sad crying. The high-pitched, dramatic kind that made everyone stop and stare.

I rushed toward the sound, my heels clicking against the marble floor. A crowd had gathered near the bride's private entrance-the one I was supposed to use.

And there she was.

Melissa.

Wearing my wedding dress. The same designer, the same lace details, the same everything. Except hers was stained with red wine down the front, and she was sobbing into Adrian's chest while he held her like she was made of glass.

I was caught between shock and disbelief so many emotions at once that I just froze. I didn't know whether to cry, laugh or just stare.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed. "I just wanted to try it on, to see what Emma would look like, and then someone bumped into me with their wine and now it's ruined and..."

"Shh, it's okay," Adrian murmured, stroking her hair. "We'll figure it out."

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach.

"What the hell is going on?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

Everyone turned. Adrian's eyes met mine, and for a split second-just a split second, I saw something that looked like guilt.

Then it was gone.

"Emma, thank God." He didn't let go of Melissa. "There's been an accident. Melissa was just..."

"Why is she wearing a wedding dress?" I cut him off. "Why is she wearing my wedding dress?"

"It's not yours, it's just similar..." Melissa started, but I wasn't listening anymore.

I pushed through the crowd and grabbed the fabric. Same embroidery. Same pearl buttons I'd spent hours choosing. Same custom alterations.

My jaw dropped. No, it couldn't be. This is my dress. My exact dress. The same color, same cut, same everything. My chest tightened, I blinked twice, hoping I was hallucinating. But no, she stood there, confidently, shamelessly, wearing what was supposed to be mine. A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. I wasn't just shocked, I was stunned, insulted, and honestly, on the edge of losing it. My thoughts spiraled: Is this a joke? My emotions were everywhere confused, angry and a hint of betrayal battling in my chest like a storm I couldn't calm.

Adrian sighed. "Emma, you're making a scene."

"I'm making a scene?" I laughed, and it sounded unhinged even to my own ears. "Your friend is wearing my wedding dress on my wedding day, and I'm making a scene?"

"She was trying to help," he said, his voice dropping to that cold, dismissive tone I'd grown to hate. "She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, so she tried it on to check the fit, and there was an accident. That's it."

"That's it?" I repeated in profuse anger.

"Don't be childish, Emma." He finally released Melissa, stepping toward me. "The guests are waiting. Go get changed into your actual dress, and let's get this over with."

Get this over with what exactly.Does he thinks I'm dumb. What the hell just happened here. My mind was racing and my body didn't know how to respond.

That's what our wedding was to him. Something to get over with.

"Where's my dress, Adrian?" I looked at him straight in the eye trying to stay composed. I wanted to be sure.

"What?"

"My dress. The one I'm supposed to be wearing. Where is it?"

He exchanged a look with Melissa. That look told me everything I needed to know.

"You gave her my dress," I whispered. "You gave her my wedding dress."

"Emma, listen..."

"No." I took a step back. "No, you listen. I've been listening for six months. I've been listening while you came home late, while you forgot our anniversaries, while you took her to the places we were supposed to go together. I've been listening while you turned into a stranger."

"This isn't the time," Adrian hissed, grabbing my arm. His fingers dug into my skin. "We have three hundred people out there."

I looked at those three hundred people. His family. His business partners. His friends.

Not a single person from my side. Because he'd said we needed to keep the guest list professional. Because my family wasn't important enough, wasn't wealthy enough, wasn't connected enough.

"Let go of me," I said.

"Emma..."

"Let go, what don't you understand in that!" I screamed

He did, but his eyes were furious. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"No," I said, louder this time. "I'm saving myself."

I turned to face the crowd. Every phone was out. Every eye was on me. Good.

"There won't be a wedding today," I announced. "Because the groom seems to have already chosen his bride, and it isn't me."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Adrian's face went white, then red.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

"I'm calling off this joke of a wedding."

I yanked the engagement ring off my finger-the one that had never quite fit right because he'd bought it without asking my size and threw it at his feet.

"And Melissa? Since you wanted my dress so badly, you can pay for it. Fifteen thousand dollars. I'll send you the invoice." I said to her

Then I walked away.

I didn't run. Didn't cry. Just walked, one foot in front of the other, while whispers exploded behind me.

My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it in my ears. My hands were trembling, my throat was tight like I'd swallowed a scream. But I didn't turn back. I couldn't.

The hall had gone silent like everyone had stopped breathing at once. I felt their eyes on me. I felt the weight of it all, pressing on my chest. But I just kept walking.

My wedding dress, my own dress was on another woman. And the man I was supposed to marry? He stood there, stunned, not saying a word.

I had thrown the ring. Told her to pay for the dress. And then I left.

Inside of me, I was shaking, angry, hurt, embarrassed but also proud. Proud that I chose myself this fucking time that I didn't stay and pretend everything was okay.

I didn't know where I was going, or what tomorrow would look like. But at that moment, I knew I was done settling.

And somehow, that was enough.

Three months later.

The apartment looked smaller than I remembered.

I stood in the doorway of what used to be our home-Adrian's penthouse in the heart of the city and felt absolutely nothing. No nostalgia. No regret. Just emptiness.

"You have fifteen minutes," Adrian said from behind me. He didn't even have the decency to look at me. Just scrolled through his phone like I was an inconvenience.

"I just need to get my things," I muttered.

"Most of it's already in boxes. I had the staff pack it up."

Of course he did. Couldn't even let me have this one last moment.

I walked into what used to be our bedroom. The bed was made with different sheets pink, silky ones that definitely weren't mine. Melissa's perfume hung in the air.

She was living here now.

My hands clenched into fists.

"Emma?" Adrian's called my name.

"Can we talk?"

"What's there to talk about?"

I started pulling framed photos off the dresser, pictures of us from when things were good. Or when I thought they were good.

"I want you to sign the divorce papers."

I froze. "We're not married, Adrian. What do you want me to sign to."

"The marriage certificate was already filed and technically, we've been married for three months."

I spun around. "What?"

He had the audacity to look annoyed.

"I filed it before the wedding. It was easier for tax purposes."

"You filed our marriage certificate without telling me?" My voice rose higher. "When? How?"

"Does it matter?" He pulled out a folder from his briefcase.

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Just sign. I'll give you the condo downtown and a hundred thousand. That's more than generous."

I laughed. Actually laughed. "Generous? Adrian, your family's net worth is eight billion dollars. You're offering me pocket change."

"You didn't contribute anything to this relationship," he said coldly. "No income. No connections. You were basically a dependent."

The words hit like a slap.

"I gave up my job for you," I said quietly.

"You asked me to. You said you wanted me to focus on being your wife, on hosting dinners and charity events and making you look good-isnt it?"

"And you failed at that too." His eyes were ice. "You were always too awkward, too quiet. Melissa can work a room in five minutes. You couldn't even make my mother like you."

Something in me cracked.

"Why did you even propose?" I whispered. "If I was so terrible, why waste three years?"

For the first time, his expression shifted. Almost looked human.

"Because I thought I loved you," he said. "But I was wrong."

"I made the worst decision also for thinking everything will be good and spends the rest of my life with you. You don't worth it"

I don't know how I made it out of that building.

The boxes were loaded into a moving truck. My whole life, reduced to eight cardboard boxes and two suitcases.

I sat in my car, the old Honda I'd driven before Adrian, the one he'd always been embarrassed by and stared at the divorce papers.

One hundred thousand dollars. The condo. And my freedom.

I should sign it. Should take the money and run.

But something stopped me.

I pulled out my phone and searched: Adrian Castellan + Melissa Vance.

The first result made my blood run cold.

"Castellan Heir Announces Engagement to Childhood Sweetheart."

The article was dated two months ago. Two months. We'd been married for three months, and he'd announced his engagement to her after one?

I kept scrolling.

Photos of them at charity galas. Smiling. Holding hands. Looking at each other like-

Like Adrian used to look at me.

Or maybe he never had. Maybe I'd just been convenient. A placeholder until Melissa came back.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Are you Emma Hartley?

I frowned.

Me:Who is this?

Unknown:Someone who can help you. If you're interested in making Adrian Castellan regret every second of the way he treated you, meet me at The Emerald Club tonight. 9 PM. VIP section.

My heart pounded.

Me:Why would you help me?

Unknown:Because I have my own reasons to want him destroyed. And because you deserve better than a hundred thousand and a condo.

Unknown:Don't be late.

The message ended with an address.

I stared at it for a long time.

This was insane. Meeting a stranger who somehow knew about my situation? It screamed danger.

But then I looked at the divorce papers again. At Adrian's cold, dismissive signature. At the pittance he thought I was worth.

I made my decision.

The Emerald Club wasn't just exclusive-it was invisible.

I'd lived in this city my whole life and never even heard of it. The entrance was hidden behind a bookshop, down a marble staircase that seemed to go on forever. By the time I reached the bottom, my legs were shaking.

Or maybe that was just nerves.

"Name?" The bouncer was the size of a small car.

"Emma Hartley. I'm supposed to meet someone in VIP?"

He checked his tablet, then nodded. "Follow me."

The club interior was all dark velvet and gold accents. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling. The music was low, sultry-the kind that made you feel like you were in a movie.

We passed through the main floor, up another staircase, and into a private section blocked by frosted glass doors.

The bouncer opened them.

And my breath caught.

The man sitting alone at the corner table wasn't just handsome-he was devastating. Dark hair, sharp jawline, eyes so blue they looked unreal. He wore a black suit that probably cost more than my car, and when he looked up at me, I felt like I'd been pinned in place.

"Emma Hartley," he said. His voice was deep, controlled. "You actually came."

"Who are you?" I managed.

"Damien Cross." He gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit."

It wasn't a request.

I sat.

"You know who I am?" he asked.

I shook my head.

His smile was sharp. "Good. That means Adrian hasn't mentioned me. Which means he's more arrogant than I thought."

"How do you know Adrian?"

"We used to be business partners." Damien poured two glasses of whiskey-expensive, from the bottle-and slid one toward me. "Until he tried to steal my company out from under me. Cost me fifty million and two years of my life."

I picked up the glass but didn't drink. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything," he said. "Because you, Emma, are going to help me destroy him."

"I don't understand." I said

At the moment I heard destroy him something in me was so happy.

"Adrian filed a marriage certificate before your wedding, correct?" Damien leaned back.

"Which means you're still legally his wife. Which means you have access to things he doesn't want anyone to see."

My stomach twisted. "I don't have access to anything. He kicked me out."

"But you know his patterns. His passwords. His favorite restaurants, his meeting spots, his secrets." Damien's eyes locked on mine. "You know where he's vulnerable."

"Ummhh...why would I help you?" I set the glass down. "I don't even know you."

"Because I can give you what he took from you," Damien said simply. "Your dignity. Your reputation. Your future. I can make sure Adrian Castellan regrets the day he ever met you."

"For what price?" I asked

"Smart girl." His smile widened. "I need you to pretend to be my fiancée."

I blinked. "What?" I screamed because I wasn't expecting that.

"Adrian is trying to acquire Cross Industries through a merger with Hartfield Tech. The deal closes in six months. If I can prove he's an unstable partner, if I can make him lose his temper, make mistakes, ruin his reputation-the deal falls apart. And he loses everything."

"And you think me being your fake fiancée will do that?"

"I think," Damien said slowly, "that seeing you on my arm-happy, successful, madly in love with his enemy-will drive him absolutely insane."

He wasn't wrong.I know Adrian so much that something like this will definitely make him absolutely insane.

"What do I get?" I asked confidently

"Five million dollars. Paid in full once the deal falls through."

I almost choked. "Five million-" He cut me off

"Plus access to my legal team for your divorce. Plus a position at Cross Industries if you want it. Plus the satisfaction of watching Adrian Castellan's empire crumble."

It was too much. Too good to be true.

"Why me?" I whispered. "You could hire anyone"

"Because you're real," Damien interrupted. "You actually loved him. You actually believed in him. And when Adrian sees that I have what he threw away, it will destroy him from the inside out."

I looked at this beautiful, dangerous man across from me.

"This is insane," I said.

"Yes."

"It'll never work."

"It will."

"Adrian won't care"

"He will." Damien leaned forward. "Trust me, Emma. Men like Adrian never realize what they had until it's gone. And when he sees you with me? He'll break."

I thought about Adrian's cold eyes. His dismissive tone. The way he'd made me feel small.

I thought about Melissa in my wedding dress.

I thought about that divorce offer. One hundred thousand dollars for three years of my life. I had to choose wisely.

"When do we start?" I asked.

Damien's smile was pure danger.

"Right now."