Ivy’s smile doesn’t fade.
She stands in the doorway, her green eyes gleaming with something dangerous, triumphant. She saw everything. She saw the way Damian held me, kissed me, chose me.
And now—she’s going to make us pay for it.
“The wedding is happening,” Ivy says smoothly, stepping further into the room. “Tomorrow.”
The words feel like a slap.
Damian stiffens beside me. “That wasn’t the plan.”
Ivy tilts her head, her fingers tracing the doorframe. “Plans change.”
I clench my fists. “You’re forcing him into this.”
Ivy lets out a soft laugh, her gaze flickering toward me. “Forcing? No, Selene. Damian is perfectly free to choose.”
She looks at him now, her voice dropping into something almost mocking. “Aren’t you, darling?”
Damian says nothing. His shoulders are rigid, tense. His silence is enough.
I step forward, my breath sharp. “He doesn’t love you.”
Ivy’s lips curl into a smile. “Love?” She chuckles. “Love has nothing to do with this.”
Her voice is soft, but laced with steel.
“This is about power. Survival. Legacy.”
She looks at Damian again, watching his reaction carefully. “You know what happens if you refuse me, don’t you?”
Damian’s fists clench at his sides.
Ivy steps closer, lowering her voice. “Your father will strip you of everything. The title. The wealth. The very name Calloway.”
Her fingers trail up Damian’s sleeve, a calculated move, meant to remind him of what’s at stake.
“You will be nothing, Damian.”
I see the war in his eyes. He’s trapped. And Ivy knows it.
I shake my head. “Damian, you don’t have to do this.”
His blue eyes finally meet mine.
For a moment—**just a moment—**I see something raw in them.
Desperation. Regret. Longing. Then he closes them, his face hardening. His next words destroy me.
“I’ll marry Ivy.”
The room tilts. I feel like I’ve been punched.
Ivy’s smirk deepens. “Good choice.”
She turns, walking toward the door, but before she leaves, she glances over her shoulder.
“I suggest you don’t attend, Selene.”
Then she’s gone. The room is silent. It’s just me and Damian now. But it might as well be a thousand miles between us.
I force myself to breathe. “So that’s it?” My voice is quiet, but it shakes. “You’re just going to walk away?”
Damian’s expression cracks for the first time.
He takes a step forward, then another, until he’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.
“Selene,” he whispers, voice raw. “Please, save me.”
The words shatter me. He doesn’t want this. But he’s going through with it anyway.
I grab his wrist, my heart pounding. “Then don’t do this. Choose me.”
His hands tremble. For a moment, I think he will. But then, he slowly pulls away. I see it in his eyes.
He’s already made his choice. Pain rips through me. I take a shaky breath. “Fine. Then I’ll make mine.”
Damian looks at me, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”
I lift my chin, steel settling into my spine.
“I won’t let you go this time.”
Then I turn and leave, my heart breaking with every step.
***
The grand Calloway estate is lit up with golden lights, the gardens filled with high-profile guests, the air thick with the scent of roses and expensive wine.
A wedding fit for royalty. A wedding built on lies.
Music plays softly, blending with the low murmur of voices as guests take their seats.
At the end of the aisle, Damian stands waiting. His black tuxedo is tailored to perfection, his broad shoulders rigid, his jaw set.
He doesn’t look happy. He doesn’t look like a man about to marry the woman he loves. Because he doesn’t love her.
He loves me. And I’m about to prove it. The crowd gasps. Heads turn. Whispers spread like wildfire. Because the woman stepping into the aisle…
Isn’t Ivy.
It’s me. Dressed in white. Walking straight toward Damian.