Chapter 1
At the engagement party, my fiancé, Pierce Martin, left me in the lurch on the excuse of helping Paris Reynolds, his childhood friend, who was supposedly drugged. He ushered her away to a room, leaving me to face the disdainful looks and snickers from the guests alone. Amidst the murmurs and laughter, Pierce's longtime rival, Elian Wagner, confidently stepped up and placed my engagement ring back on my finger.
"Miss Wagner," he declared, his gaze intense and captivating, "Pierce isn't right for you. We belong together. Will you marry me?"
I held his gaze, and without a second thought, I agreed. The wedding was scheduled for a week later.
...
As everyone reeled from the unexpected twist, Elian confidently walked up onto the stage and slipped the ring onto my hand, which had been hanging there uncertainly.
"Miss Wagner," he proclaimed, "you've accepted. In seven days, I'll make you my wife."
He then pulled a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a stunning sapphire bracelet.
"This bracelet has been passed down through generations in the Wagner family," Elian continued, fastening it around my wrist urgently, as if to ensure I wouldn’t change my mind. "Once you wear it, there's no turning back."
His actions seemed so calculated, yet I found myself smiling and nodding in agreement again. The laughter and mockery shifted to envy, as everyone recognized the influence of the Wagner family, far surpassing even that of the Martins, despite their own formidable status.
After Elian left and the guests dispersed, Pierce emerged from the room with Paris, her disheveled appearance revealing some hint of the situation. His face showed a hint of arrogance, while Paris had a triumphant gleam in her eyes despite the flush of embarrassment.
Pierce seemed surprised to see me still at the venue and quickly put some distance between himself and Paris, though his tone remained conceited.
"Kalani, Paris and I are just friends, helping each other, that's all," he insisted. "You're still my fiancée, and I'll marry you in a week."
Enraged, I chuckled sarcastically and prepared to leave, but Paris stepped in my way, her dissatisfaction clear.
"Kalani, I've already told you, Pierce and I are like siblings. He took me to the room to help me, that's it," Paris retorted. "Don't be so dramatic. You're just one of those girls who make a mountain out of a molehill."