Chapter 2

My father's eyes were like daggers, stabbing into Aaron. "And then, get out of here."

Aaron's face turned pale as a sheet in an instant.

In Otrul, nobody would ever dare talk to my father with that attitude.

Aaron dared only because he'd been calling himself my fiancé for the past three years.

But he seemed to forget that this title was something my father allowed him to have.

What my father gave, he could just as easily take back.

"Kea... No, Mr. Welch," Aaron said, his voice trembling just enough to notice as he tried to explain.

He continued, "It's not what you think. Iris and I were only talking business. That contract means a lot to me, and to our future..."

"Your future?" My father let out a cold laugh, cutting him off.

He said, "Nancy will never have a husband who leaves her all alone for seven hours on their wedding day, only to come back with another woman's scent still on him."

Every word hit Aaron like a sledgehammer, crushing his pride.

"And..." My father's gaze fixed on that glaring strand of long hair on Aaron's shoulder. "I don't care whether you and Iris were actually doing business or just faking it. After today, I want your name erased from Otrul's business circles."

Aaron understood better than anyone what those words meant. It meant total banishment. Utterly, with no room for mercy.

He'd spent ten years clawing his way up from a penniless small-town kid to where he was now. And with just one sentence, my father could wipe it all away in an instant.

He staggered, the passion and hope in his eyes draining away, leaving only overwhelming fear.

"No! Mr. Welch! You can't do this!" Aaron cried out.

He tried to rush forward and grab my father's arm, but the bodyguards blocked him. "Nancy! Please, say something for me. Everything I did was for you, for us, so we could hold our heads high together!"

I watched him quietly, not saying a word.

For me? So that meant it was okay to throw away my dignity and turn me into the city's biggest joke?

So he could shamelessly "talk business" with his ex-girlfriend on our wedding day?'

His so-called love was a double-edged sword. He claimed it was for me, but every time, it cut me to the bone.

I reached up, took off the heavy crown from my head, and handed it to the bridesmaid beside me without a second thought.

Then, I gathered up the ornate gown and descended the stage, one step at a time.

I didn't spare Aaron another glance. I walked straight up to my father.

"Dad, I'm tired. Let's go home," I said. My voice was quiet, but it carried clearly through the empty hall.

For the first time, a crack appeared in my father's icy expression. He reached out and gently pulled me into his side, just like he used to when I was little.

"Alright. I will take you home," he said.

As I turned away, I heard Aaron's gut-wrenching, agonized shout echo behind me. "Nancy! Don't do this to me! Please, I love you!"

Love? Hearing him say it made my skin crawl. It felt dirty, tainted.

I didn't look back. Holding onto my father's arm, I walked out of the golden hall. The place that was supposed to be the happiest moment of my life had become my greatest nightmare.

Stepping out of the hotel, the evening breeze hit me, cool with the touch of early autumn.

I drew in a deep breath, as if I could finally let go of all the betrayal and humiliation that had been choking me inside.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by the noisy rain outside my window and the chaos downstairs.

I pulled back the curtains and saw a swarm of reporters crowding outside the gates of our estate.

Every kind of camera imaginable was aimed right at our house.

And in the pouring rain, a familiar figure was kneeling there, completely still.

It was Aaron. He'd actually been kneeling outside the gates of our estate all night.

His expensive suit was soaked and plastered to his body, making him look utterly miserable.

He kept his head down, so I couldn't see his face. But even through the rain, his humble and desperate posture stung my eyes.

My phone was blowing up with news notifications.

Every headline stung like a slap across my face, like [Wedding of the century turns to chaos! Groom Aaron Clark kneels all night begging for forgiveness!] and [High-society scandal: Welch heiress walks away, heartbroken young tycoon's rainy plea for love!]

What was he doing? Was he really trying to get me back, or was he using the media to corner the Welch family and me?

Just then, my father's assistant knocked on the door and came in, handing me a tablet.

"Miss Welch, Mr. Welch asked you to take a look at this," he said.

The screen lit up with a crystal-clear surveillance video.

The footage was from yesterday afternoon, shot inside a private suite at a high-end club.

In the video, Aaron and Iris were sitting together, looking way too cozy, almost like lovers.