Isabelle Thorne was Julian's childhood sweetheart.
For five years, it had always been the same. Every time Evelina and Julian had a milestone, if Isabelle so much as sneezed, Julian would drop everything and run to her side.
He always insisted he saw Isabelle as a friend and that Evelina needed to be more understanding.
Desperate to make their five-year relationship last, Evelina had given in time and time again.
But this was their wedding day.
Isabelle needed Julian by her side? What about her? Didn't she deserve to have her own husband with her?
Her voice shook as she pleaded, "No, you can't leave. There's no wedding without you. Please, Julian, just stay!"
Julian's face hardened with irritation. "Enough! This isn't the time to be selfish. It's just a ceremony; we can do it anytime. But Isabelle is hurt. If you keep me here any longer, are you going to take responsibility for what happens to her? Get out of my way!"
He shoved her aside without a second glance.
Caught off guard, Evelina stumbled and fell, watching helplessly as Julian's back disappeared through the doors.
A moment later, her phone rang.
She answered automatically, and a woman's gloating voice oozed through the speaker.
"Evelina, I heard today was your big day. How do you like the wedding gift I sent you?"
Evelina trembled. She knew that voice.
"Isabelle," she said through gritted teeth. "You deliberately called Julian away, didn't you?"
"Of course I did. So what? I just wanted you to understand that to Julian, I will always come first."
Isabelle's tone dripped with smug satisfaction. "You must have put so much work into this wedding. Such a shame to see all that effort go to waste. I almost feel sorry for you."
Looking down at her pristine white gown, Evelina suddenly saw her five years of devotion for what they were: a complete joke.
As an orphan, her greatest dream had always been to have a loving family of her own.
But she finally understood that Julian could never give her that.
If that was the case, then it was time to let go.
A cold laugh escaped her lips. "You're going to be disappointed. The wedding is still on."
Isabelle's voice turned scornful. "Have you lost your mind? How exactly do you plan to have a wedding without Julian as the groom?"
A faint, mocking smile curved Evelina's lips.
Who said the groom had to be Julian?
If he could abandon her so easily, then she would find someone else-someone who would actually cherish her.
"Give Julian a message for me: I'm done with him. He's a man I no longer want. Since you're so fond of him, he's all yours. Trash belongs with trash. You two deserve each other forever."
Isabelle's tone sharpened. "You've crossed the line, Evelina-"
Evelina hung up before she could finish.
The wedding was in half an hour. She had to find a replacement groom, and fast.
Gathering her skirt, she hurried outside-only to find the church grounds swarming with bodyguards in black suits, all of them clearly searching for someone.
A man in a groom's tuxedo, sat in a wheelchair, his presence so icy and commanding it seemed to silence the chaos around him.
"The ceremony is about to start. Have you found her?" he demanded, his voice cold as steel.
The guard hesitated. "Mr. Blackwood, we've searched everywhere near the church. Miss Miller is nowhere to be found. It seems she... ran."
"Ran?" His voice was deep, almost pleasant, a stark contrast to the predatory coldness in his eyes. "If this wedding doesn't happen on time, you know the consequences."
Evelina overheard their exchange. So, this man had been left at the altar, too.
Without a moment's hesitation, she lifted her gown and walked straight toward him.
The nearest guard tensed, instinctively blocking her path.
"Miss, what are you doing?"
The man in the wheelchair fixed his gaze on her, and the intensity of it was almost a physical weight.
But Evelina didn't flinch. She met his stare head-on.
"I heard your bride ran away," she said. "How about I take her place?"