Chapter 1

My groom was planning to run away from our wedding. So I sent him off with a parting gift.

The year I discovered I was the girl switched at birth, both my adoptive parents and my biological parents looked at me like their mortal enemy.

They threw my luggage out the door in the dead of winter and sent me packing with pocket change.

Through the swirling snow, Ethan Cross crossed half the city to reach my side.

He draped his only warm coat over my shoulders and stayed with me until the snow stopped at dawn.

When I was hospitalized with frostbite, he held me close and swore with all his heart:

"Luna, I'll always be by your side. I will never abandon you."

Years later, once he'd made something of himself, he braved his family's objections to prepare a grand wedding for me.

But I accidentally scrolled across the runaway plan he'd cooked up with the real daughter.

They'd left traces everywhere—in the car, at the office, even in our wedding house.

He was going to vanish on our big day, humiliating me in front of everyone just to amuse the real daughter.

Yet when the banquet began, both the bride and the groom were absent.

That day, Ethan turned the entire city upside down... but he never found a single trace of me.

The internet was buzzing over a viral thread.

[What is something that made you hate someone for years?]

Chloe Vance, the biological daughter of my adoptive parents, replied:

[After a hospital mix-up at birth, another girl enjoyed my wealthy, privileged life for eighteen years. So, I took back my biological parents, turned her adoptive parents against her, and kicked her out of the house.

But that wasn’t enough. Over the years, I secretly got close to her fiancé. I staged accidental run-ins, played the damsel in distress, and trauma-dumped on him until he was completely hooked. Their wedding is next week, and I’ve convinced him to run away with me on the big day, leaving her utterly humiliated in front of everyone!]

Many people in the comments urged her to move on.

[You self-righteous saints have no idea what she stole from me! If it weren't for her, I would have been his childhood sweetheart. He was supposed to be mine! It's not stealing if it belonged to me first!]

I knew every single word in her post was true.

Because just today, I saw her and Ethan Cross tangled up in each other outside the VIP dressing room.

Separated by only a two-way mirror, they were shamelessly hooking up.

Ethan’s ears were flushed red, his veins popping on his hands as he gripped Chloe's waist, showing just how deeply turned on he was.

Chloe rested her head on Ethan’s shoulder, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

"There's something I need to handle at the office. I have to go."

His voice was still raspy with lingering lust.

The two of them hurried away, completely unaware that the two-way mirror gave me a perfect, unobstructed view of their betrayal.

When I was eighteen, I was treated like a useless toy, kicked back and forth between two sets of parents.

Chloe was always behind the scenes, playing the victim.

After my biological parents washed their hands of me, my adoptive mother kicked me out in a fit of rage.

It was a freezing December night in New York. I stood beneath the apartment building, shivering in the heavy snowfall.

It was Ethan who got me through those dark, agonizing days when my heart felt dead.

Whenever I woke up crying from nightmares, Ethan would hold me tight, cursing the Vance family for their heartlessness.

But now, I had watched Ethan go from feeling guilty and resisting Chloe, to giving in, and finally, to losing himself in her.

Ten years of love. Watching him touch another woman with such passion felt like having my heart carved out of my chest.

I scrolled through the vlogs Ethan had filmed of us over the past decade. It was supposed to be a surprise video played on our wedding day.

Now, it felt like poison.

I watched those videos over and over, laughing and crying like a madwoman until my soul went completely numb.

When the first light of dawn broke, I finally let myself go and shut down the computer.

The screen still displayed our wedding planner app.

Just a few days ago, I had stayed up late checking every single detail.

A text message popped up on my phone.

[Hi Luna, when would you like to come in for your final dress fitting?]

My hand paused.

[No need.]

I wasn’t getting married anymore.