Chapter 3

Preston set down his bone china teacup and looked at me with absolute tenderness.

"I'll follow Cecilia's lead. Whatever she wants."

Nana immediately shot me a look.

I swallowed hard and sat up straight. "As soon as possible. The sooner, the better."

A flicker of amusement danced in Preston's eyes.

He turned back to Nana, his tone completely serious.

"Nana, I've actually already secured the venue. St. Patrick's Cathedral."

"We can finalize the banquet menu and floral arrangements today. As long as Cecilia says yes, we can hold the wedding next month. I'll have the lawyers finalize the pre-marital trust and all related paperwork immediately."

Nana gasped, then nodded vigorously. "Wonderful! You are a man of your word, Preston."

I sat there, stunned.

When did he book a cathedral? Why didn't I know about this?

But seeing how overjoyed Nana was, I wisely kept my mouth shut.

That night, fresh out of the shower, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

"Why did you block me? Stop throwing a tantrum. I'm flying back to New York tomorrow. When I show up with that check, I know you'll be thrilled."

Julian. Using a burner.

I rolled my eyes. We had agreed this was purely transactional. Why was he acting like a clingy ex?

I blocked this number, too.

Two minutes later, it buzzed again. Another unknown number.

"Hello, Cecilia. This is Julian's fiancée, Victoria."

"I understand you were with Julian for seven years and feel unbalanced now that he's dropped you. I can turn a blind eye to your past arrangement."

"But I expect you to take your money and behave. Stop playing these games—blocking him, deleting him, then secretly keeping in touch. It's going to make things ugly for everyone in our circle."

I frantically typed back:

"Victoria, please don't misunderstand. My contract with him is completely over."

"Besides, I'm getting married very soon. I wish you both the best with your merger."

The number never replied.

A few days later, Preston suggested I move in with him.

"We'll be living together after we sign the prenup anyway. We might as well start getting used to each other's habits."

Nana practically shoved me out the door to pack. And just like that, I moved into his Central Park penthouse.

The wedding preparations moved at a terrifying speed.

In just two weeks, the invitations were sent, the cathedral was prepped, and a custom, handmade gown was flown in from Paris.

What shocked me the most was that the diamond-encrusted gown fit my body flawlessly. Not a single millimeter was off. And the diamond ring from a legendary heritage jeweler slid onto my finger like it was born to be there.

"How is this happening so fast?"

I looked at myself in the mirror. "Don't haute couture gowns require flying to Paris six months in advance for measurements?"

Preston stood behind me, gently adjusting my veil.

"The family atelier had it prepared well in advance."

"Prepared in advance?" I turned to look at him. "But we've known each other for less than a month. How did you know my size—"

He handed me a glass of warm milk.

"Drink this. The private chef just warmed it up. It'll help you sleep."

My attention was instantly derailed. I took a few big gulps, and the question vanished.

The night before the wedding.

I was in the penthouse double-checking the guest list when the doorbell rang. Assuming it was an assistant dropping off wedding favors, I opened the door.

Standing in the hallway was Julian.

He took in my expensive silk loungewear, froze for a second, and then his brows knitted together.

"Why did you suddenly move here? I went to your old Chelsea apartment, and the doorman said you were gone."

Before I could speak, he let out a smug laugh.

"I knew you couldn't walk away from my money."

He took a step forward, crowding my space.

"Victoria and I have an understanding. We'll have an open marriage. She won't care that you exist."

"You don't need to go on any more blind dates. Stay with me, and I'll double your monthly—"

"No."

I cut him off, taking a step back.

"I'm getting married tomorrow. My husband and my grandmother would never allow me to associate with someone who doesn't respect boundaries."

Chapter 3

Preston set down his bone china teacup and looked at me with absolute tenderness.

"I'll follow Cecilia's lead. Whatever she wants."

Nana immediately shot me a look.

I swallowed hard and sat up straight. "As soon as possible. The sooner, the better."

A flicker of amusement danced in Preston's eyes.

He turned back to Nana, his tone completely serious.

"Nana, I've actually already secured the venue. St. Patrick's Cathedral."

Nana gasped, then nodded vigorously. "Wonderful! You are a man of your word, Preston."

I sat there, stunned.

When did he book a cathedral? Why didn't I know about this?

But seeing how overjoyed Nana was, I wisely kept my mouth shut.

That night, fresh out of the shower, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

"Why did you block me? Stop throwing a tantrum. I'm flying back to New York tomorrow. When I show up with that check, I know you'll be thrilled."

Julian. Using a burner.

I rolled my eyes. We had agreed this was purely transactional. Why was he acting like a clingy ex?

I blocked this number, too.

Two minutes later, it buzzed again. Another unknown number.

"Hello, Cecilia. This is Julian's fiancée, Victoria."

"I understand you were with Julian for seven years and feel unbalanced now that he's dropped you. I can turn a blind eye to your past arrangement."

"But I expect you to take your money and behave. Stop playing these games—blocking him, deleting him, then secretly keeping in touch. It's going to make things ugly for everyone in our circle."

I frantically typed back:

"Victoria, please don't misunderstand. My contract with him is completely over."

"Besides, I'm getting married very soon. I wish you both the best with your merger."

The number never replied.

A few days later, Preston suggested I move in with him.

"We'll be living together after we sign the prenup anyway. We might as well start getting used to each other's habits."

Nana practically shoved me out the door to pack. And just like that, I moved into his Central Park penthouse.

The wedding preparations moved at a terrifying speed.

In just two weeks, the invitations were sent, the cathedral was prepped, and a custom, handmade gown was flown in from Paris.

"How is this happening so fast?"

I looked at myself in the mirror. "Don't haute couture gowns require flying to Paris six months in advance for measurements?"

Preston stood behind me, gently adjusting my veil.

"The family atelier had it prepared well in advance."

"Prepared in advance?" I turned to look at him. "But we've known each other for less than a month. How did you know my size—"

He handed me a glass of warm milk.

"Drink this. The private chef just warmed it up. It'll help you sleep."

My attention was instantly derailed. I took a few big gulps, and the question vanished.

The night before the wedding.

I was in the penthouse double-checking the guest list when the doorbell rang. Assuming it was an assistant dropping off wedding favors, I opened the door.

Standing in the hallway was Julian.

He took in my expensive silk loungewear, froze for a second, and then his brows knitted together.

"Why did you suddenly move here? I went to your old Chelsea apartment, and the doorman said you were gone."

Before I could speak, he let out a smug laugh.

"I knew you couldn't walk away from my money."

He took a step forward, crowding my space.

"Victoria and I have an understanding. We'll have an open marriage. She won't care that you exist."

"You don't need to go on any more blind dates. Stay with me, and I'll double your monthly—"

"No."

I cut him off, taking a step back.

"I'm getting married tomorrow. My husband and my grandmother would never allow me to associate with someone who doesn't respect boundaries."