Chapter 4

I waited in the courtyard for hours. He never showed.

Eventually, I walked over to the guest wing to look for him.

I found him sitting on the terrace with Victoria, sharing a bottle of wine under the moonlight.

I turned around, left the estate in silence, and went to the Lincoln Center alone.

I sat through the entire opera by myself, finding my own closure.

When I got back, Sophia told me Grant had stopped by and left a message.

He said not to be upset, and that he would make up for missing our date.

I kept folding my clothes into my suitcase, murmuring softly, "It's fine. He doesn't owe me anything. I owe him too much."

In my past life, no matter how much he resented me, he never allowed anyone to disrespect me as his wife. And in the end, he died in that fire trying to pull me out.

That was a debt I could never repay.

Suddenly, Daniel burst into my room, his face ashen.

"Miss Carlisle! It's Grant! He offended some dangerous people while bailing out the Ashfords—his car was ambushed!"

My blood ran cold. I immediately ordered Marcus, the head of security, to drive me to the scene.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Grant, please be alive.

The moment we arrived, I saw through the chaos—a man raising a gun, aiming straight for Grant's blind spot.

"Grant, look out!"

I shoved past Marcus, sprinting forward and violently pushing Grant out of the way.

The gunshot rang out. Grant stumbled clear, but the bullet grazed my upper arm. Hot blood instantly soaked through my sleeve.

Grant stared at me in absolute shock.

Once the hitman was pinned to the asphalt by security, Grant rushed over to me. His hands were shaking slightly as he grabbed a medkit and personally bandaged my arm.

He looked at me, his eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't quite read.

"Thank you. For today."

"But don't ever risk your life like that again. Your safety matters."

He fell silent for a moment, then lowered his voice.

"And... as long as you don't go after Victoria, I will always protect you. Just like I used to."

I met his gaze.

This was the reconciliation I had desperately craved for a decade. And now, I finally had it.

My eyes stung, but my smile was light and entirely free of burden.

"Thank you, Grant."

The doctor confirmed neither of us had serious injuries, meaning the wedding schedule wouldn't be affected.

However, my arm needed a few days to heal before I could travel, forcing me to delay my flight to Charleston.

On the eve of the wedding, Grant didn't come to see me.

On the morning of the wedding, I formally said my goodbyes to Robert and Margaret. Then, I got into a discreet car and headed straight for the airport.

Just as we merged onto the interstate, my car was ambushed.

By the time I finally arrived in Charleston, my clothes still smelled of gunpowder.

I made a quick call to Robert and Margaret to confirm I was safe, explicitly asking them not to tell Grant.

Meanwhile, back in New York, the wedding venue was packed, but the ceremony hadn't started.

Grant stood near the altar, staring at the empty grand entrance.

"Where is Evelyn? She's been dying to marry me for years. Why is she suddenly dragging her feet?"

Robert and Margaret exchanged a heavy look, but before they could answer, Marcus Shaw sprinted into the hall, his stoic face cracked with urgency.

"Grant, there's a situation. Miss Carlisle's car was ambushed on the interstate—"