Chapter 9
In the bridal suite, Seraphina sat before the mirror, a portrait of calm indifference as the makeup artist sculpted her features into perfection. The woman in the reflection was almost identical to the one who had fled three years ago, but her eyes now held a har- der, colder light. She ran a hand over the delicate lace of her gown, a faint, unreadable smile playing on her lips.
Outside, Isabelle peeked through the cracked–open door, her eyes fixed on Seraphina’s back. Her nails dug into her palms. It was just as she’d suspected. This woman wasn’t magnanimous at all. It was all a calculated retreat, a game to win Damien’s heart. The cunning bitch.
What infuriated her most was that Damien had actually agreed to this sham wedding. Even if it was just for show, the thought of it drove her mad with jealousy.
“Seraphina…” Isabelle whispered her name, her eyes glinting with malice. “You think this is some kind of victory? You’re dreaming
She turned and walked away, her heels sinking silently into the plush carpet.
A few moments later, Damien entered the suite.
He was dressed impeccably in a tuxedo, but his handsome face
mirror, “I will go through with this wedding today,” he said flatly. “But I expect
with impatience. He glanced at the woman in the
stop harassing Isabelle from now on.”
to
Seraphina met his gaze in the reflection, her own expression as placid
as
2
frozen lake.
She didn’t answer, merely humming a soft “Mm.”
Damien’s brow twitched. Something about her seemed… different. But he couldn’t
quite
his finger
on what it was.
Just as he was about to press the matter, his phone rang.
“Mr. Blackwood, we have a problem!” his assistant’s voice was frantic. “Miss Croft is gone!”
Damien’s face changed instantly. Without a second thought, he turned and bolted from the room.
Meanwhile, in the airport lounge, Elara was calmly checking her passport. Her phone vibrated with a text from an unknown numb- er. It was from Isabelle.
Even on your wedding day, Damien will still abandon you for me. Tell me, who’s more important?
She read the message without a flicker of emotion. Then, she removed the SIM card from her phone and snapped it cleanly in two.
Click.
The sound was crisp and final.
She dropped the pieces into a trash can, discarding them as easily as she was discarding the last three years of her life.
Back at the wedding venue, chaos reigned. Guests whispered amongst themselves, their murmurs filling the vast, silent hall. The officiant stood awkwardly on the stage, unsure how to announce the delay.
In the bridal suite, Seraphina waited. And waited. But Damien did not return.
She stood up, about to go and see what was happening, when the door was thrown open.
Damien stood there, panting, his face a mask of terrifying fury. His tuxedo was disheveled, his hair damp with sweat. He had clear- ly run all the way back.
“Seraphina,” he rasped, his voice thick with suppressed rage. “Isabelle is in trouble. The wedding is cancelled.”
Seraphina looked at him, and then she smiled. “Damien, are you sure you want to abandon this wedding for an outsider?”
2011
Damien flinched, then his voice turned to Ice.
like this?”
Seraphina shook her head, a hint of pity in her eyes. “You poor, pathetic man.”
Her words ignited his fury. He was about to explode when his phone rang again.
He glanced at the caller ID, and the color drained from his face.
Chapt
