Chapter 1

I stepped inside the cathedral wearing my white wedding gown. I was excited to finally marry the love of my life Jules but as I looked down the aisle, hoping to see him waiting for me…

Someone else was standing there… my adopted sister Claudia.

“I do!” Jules responded, kissing Claudia’s knuckles.

"Jules?" I called out as I walked the aisle.

Guests turned to look at me, their faces pale, whispering behind their hands.

"Hannah," he sighed, dropping Claudia's hands. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? This is my wedding!"

"Keep your voice down. You're making a scene."

Claudia hid behind his arm. She looked down, her shoulders shaking. Fake tears. Always the fragile victim.

"Why is she in a wedding dress? Why are you standing with her?"

He adjusted his tie, his face cold. "Claudia and I are getting married today."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

"What?" I gasped.

"She’s pregnant, Hannah," Jules said flatly. "The baby isn't mine. But the father ran off. You know how high society is. If she has a bastard child, her reputation is ruined. She needs a legal husband to protect her status."

"Her status?" I repeated, the words tasting like ash.

"Yes. The Kensington name needs to be protected.”

The Kensington name.

My name.

I stared at Claudia. She looked down, playing with the diamond necklace around her throat. My mother’s necklace. The one she had 'borrowed' for a party last week.

"I'm so sorry, sister," Claudia whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you. But Jules is so kind. He couldn't just let me be destroyed. You know I've always been fragile."

Fragile.

She was a leech.

My parents took her in when she was ten. A charity case. I shared my room, my toys, my life with her.

But that wasn't enough.

I wanted real love. Real loyalty. So I hid my inheritance. I lived in a tiny apartment. I worked a normal job. I told Jules I was just the poor adopted one, to see if he would stay.

He stayed. Or so I thought.

While I played the pauper, Claudia played the princess. She used my family's wealth. She attended the elite galas. She let everyone—including Jules—believe she was the true billionaire heiress.

She didn't just steal my groom. She stole my identity. And Jules was marrying her because of his own greed.

"So you're marrying her?" I whispered. "To protect her?"

"It's just paper," Jules said, stepping closer, lowering his voice. "Don't be so dramatic. I still love you. But Claudia needs this more than you do right now."

My blood turned to ice.

"Go home, Hannah," he continued. "Wait for me. Three years. Once the baby is older and the scandal dies down, we’ll divorce. We can be together in secret until then. Just let her have this day. Stop being so selfish."

Selfish.

I looked at the man I had loved for four years. I looked at the sister I had protected.

He didn’t love me. He never did. He loved the fake heiress standing next to him. He was trading me for what he thought was a billionaire’s fortune.

"You want me to be your secret?" I asked, my voice eerily calm now.

"It's three years," he sighed, rubbing his temples like I was a burden. "If you really love me, you'll understand."

Claudia touched his arm. "Don't be mad at her, Jules. Hannah has always been jealous of me. She can't help it."

I almost laughed.

I looked at the altar. At the flowers I picked. At the priest standing awkwardly in the corner.

Everything was a lie.

I reached up and unpinned my veil. It fell to the marble floor like a ghost.

"Hannah, what are you doing?" Jules frowned.

"I'm leaving," I said flatly.

"Good," he muttered. "Use the side door. Don't ruin the photos."

I didn't cry. The pain was there, sharp and suffocating, but I swallowed it down. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of my tears.

"You can have him, Claudia," I said. My voice was loud enough for the front rows to hear. "You deserve each other."

Jules’s face darkened. "Hannah, don't push it."

"Three years?" I looked at him, my eyes dead. "Don't bother. We're done."

I turned my back on them.

"You'll regret this!" Jules called out behind me. "You have nothing without me!"

I kept walking.

Before I could push the heavy oak open, a hand slammed flat against the wood, blocking my exit.

Mark. Jules’s best man. Behind him stood the rest of the groomsmen. They had always hated me. To them, I was just the poor, clingy charity case dragging their friend down.

"Not so fast, wedding crasher," Mark sneered.

"Move," I commanded.

"You're ruining Jules's big day," another groomsman laughed, stepping into my personal space. "I think she needs to cool off."

Someone grabbed a bottle of red wine from the decorative communion table near the entrance.

Before I could react, the dark liquid splashed across my face.

I gasped. The wine stung my eyes and soaked into my custom silk gown, staining the pristine white to the color of blood.

They didn't stop. Hands grabbed my arms. The delicate lace of my sleeves ripped with a sickening tear.

"Stop!" I cried out, struggling against their grip.

I looked back at the altar. Jules was watching. He didn't move a muscle.

"You brought this on yourself, Hannah," Jules called out coldly. "I told you not to make a scene."

Shivering, blinded by the stinging wine, I wrenched myself free. I stumbled back down the aisle toward the altar. I just wanted to look him in the eye. To ask him how he could stand there and watch them humiliate me.

"Jules—" I reached out.

But Claudia stepped into my path.

"Oops," she whispered.

She planted her hands on my shoulders and shoved me hard.

My heel caught on the edge of the altar podium.

I hit the bottom floor with a bone-jarring crack. A blinding, tearing agony ripped through my abdomen. It was like a knife twisting in my stomach.

I curled into a ball, gasping for air.

Warm liquid pooled beneath me.

"Jules!" I screamed, the sound tearing my throat. "Call an ambulance!"