I spun to my butler, fury burning through me. “Settle it. Pay them. Now. No one—no one—ruins this wedding. Not Seraphina, not the police, not anyone.”
The hall glittered with flowers and chandeliers, a stage built for victory. Guests whispered, smiling, as though nothing had touched us. I stood at the altar, my smile forced, my chest heavy. The priests waited. The music swelled.
And then Helena walked toward me, glowing in white, every inch the perfect bride.
But before her footsteps reached me, one of the butlers stumbled inside, pale, shaking. “Sir… forgive me…” His voice cracked. “…It was really her.”
I froze.
He held out a tablet, his hands trembling. The photo on the screen made my stomach drop. A body—crushed, mangled, unrecognizable, but clothed in the hospital gown Seraphina had worn.
My throat closed.
The butler’s whisper pierced me. “The detective wants to talk to you. They confirmed it’s Miss Seraphina.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My heart twisted painfully, a foreign ache stabbing my chest. And then I understood—it wasn’t my grief. No. It was Adrian’s heart inside me. Adrian, who had loved Seraphina more than his own life. Adrian, who would bleed forever for her.
Tears spilled before I could stop them.
But I gritted my teeth, forcing the ache down. “I don’t care,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Tell them… tell them it was her. And so be it.”
And then—I smiled. I turned my eyes back to Helena, radiant as she reached the altar.
She was the one. She had always been the one. If I kept saying it, maybe it would be true.
The priest began his words. Guests leaned forward. Helena’s hand slipped into mine. My lips curved into the smile they expected.
“Do you, Dominic Blackwood, take Helena—”
The world blurred.
Her face flickered. It wasn’t Helena before me—it was Seraphina. Pale, trembling, her eyes wet with betrayal.
My chest convulsed. My mouth dried.
“I…” The word stuck in my throat.
Helena’s eyes widened. The room held its breath.
And then I tore my hand from hers. I stepped back, stumbling.
“No…” My voice broke, raw and hoarse. My gaze darted, searching for a ghost I could never find.
“No. Seraphina…”
Gasps rippled through the guests. Helena screamed, her voice sharp, hysterical. “Dominic! What are you doing?!”
But I was already running. Away from the altar, away from the wedding, away from Helena’s cries.