Chapter 4

When I followed Harper back into the auction hall, the diamond necklace was already glittering around my neck.

My face beamed with uncontrollable joy and relief. I timidly slid into the seat next to Sebastian, my eyes welling with grateful tears:

"Thank you, Sebastian. I truly, truly love this necklace."

"I knew you wouldn't ever abandon me."

Hearing that, Sebastian smiled with arrogant satisfaction. He ruffled my hair, his voice dripping with lazy pleasure:

"Don't let it happen again."

I rested my head against his shoulder like a clingy, helpless kitten.

Yet the moment I lowered my eyes, they were dead, cold voids.

I wasn't an idiot.

Sebastian’s bizarre behavior lately—I had originally chalked it up to annoyance at my sudden detachment.

Until tonight.

He went out of his way to crush me under the cruellest humiliation, only to turn around and toss me a golden bone at the very end.

Such wildly contradictory behavior proved he wasn't angry.

He was terrified.

He was terrified of losing the unconditional, suffocating love I had poured over him for five unbroken years.

Sebastian had genuinely fallen for me.

Following that auction, as the wedding date drew near, I played my role more intensely than ever before.

Perhaps my performance was too convincing.

The way Sebastian looked at me grew more complex by the day. After that night, he never contacted Harper again, and the name "Amber," once constantly on his lips, was rarely ever uttered.

Just yesterday, when I turned around, I caught him staring at my back, smiling warmly.

How tragic, Sebastian.

You should have never fallen in love with me.

The day of the wedding finally arrived. Probably moved by my recent display of "unconditional devotion," Sebastian spared no expense on this wedding, pouring his entire soul into it.

Practically all of New York's elite and top media outlets were invited to witness our grand union.

Staring at the mirror, gazing at the bride wrapped in pure white lace, my body shivered with electric anticipation.

*Buzz.*

My phone vibrated on the vanity. An encrypted text flashed across the screen:

[Everything is ready.]

"We're all set, Miss Miller. The bride can take the stage now."

The wedding coordinator’s voice chimed behind me. I gave a soft affirmation, locked the screen, took a deep breath, and walked out.

Under the swelling, majestic organ music, Sebastian stood waiting at the end of the long red carpet.

He watched me approach, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Lifting the hem of my gown, I took one steady step after another toward him. He held out his hand, and our fingers intertwined.

Under the blinding flashes of countless cameras, the priest offered a warm, benevolent smile and began:

"Sebastian Pierce, do you take Wendy Miller to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

Sebastian gazed deep into my eyes, raw and undeniable love shining plainly in his gaze.

He took a steadying breath and declared solemnly:

"I do."

The crowd erupted into cheers.

The priest turned to me, repeating the sacred vows:

"Wendy Miller, do you take Sebastian Pierce to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

The entire cathedral went dead silent. Hundreds of pairs of eyes locked onto me.

I smiled.

Then, with one sharp motion, I ripped the veil from my face.

In that instant, every ounce of fake tenderness and adoration vanished. What replaced it was a tsunami of long-repressed, bone-deep hatred.

Looking straight at Sebastian’s rapidly paling face, I spoke clearly into the microphone:

"I do not."