A Monster of Their Making

My fiancé, Grayson Prescott, was about to abandon me at the altar. Again.

Today, at our wedding in the Hamptons, he was leaving me for his cousin, Dahlia Thorne—a woman who weaponized her supposed "emotional fragility" to manipulate any situation to her advantage—because she was allegedly having an anxiety attack.

I stopped him. "Grayson, can't we just finish the wedding first?"

Grayson's brow furrowed, his voice tight with suppressed anger and accusation. "Dahlia is having an anxiety attack at the beach club and is on the verge of a breakdown, and all you can think about is this charade?"

My parents sided with him, their disappointed gazes landing on me. "Aurora," my mom said, "Dahlia's mother died saving you."

"And now that she's having a breakdown, all you can think about is yourself," my dad added.

I froze, watching them retreat anxiously through the door as my heart plunged into an icy sea.

This was the third time Grayson had abandoned me for Dahlia on a major occasion.

The first time was our engagement dinner. She claimed to be having an emotional breakdown, and Grayson flew to her side overnight. It turned out she was just throwing a tantrum because she couldn't get her hands on a limited-edition necklace.

The second time was our trip to see the northern lights. She called, crying, saying she felt lonely and scared. Without a second thought, Grayson abandoned our trip and spent the entire night comforting her on the phone.

The third time was our wedding.

They all believed I owed Dahlia—that I should always put her first.

This time, I decided to give them what they wanted—my absence.

In the wake of that disastrous wedding, I applied for a secret research initiative that would sever all my ties to the world for five years: the Chimera Project.

The project's requirements were incredibly strict. Once selected, all my information would be classified as top secret for the next five years. No one would be able to find me.

I would later learn that after I vanished, the ever-elegant and composed Grayson Prescott had a complete and utter breakdown.

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1

"Aurora, we can have the wedding anytime."

"I promise, as soon as Dahlia is stable, I'll throw you an even grander wedding."

He reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, his tone condescending, as if he were soothing a petulant child.

He dismissed my refusal as nothing more than a hysterical, unreasonable tantrum.

I flinched away, dodging his placating touch.

Grayson's patience evaporated.

"Your mom is right, Aurora. You owe Dahlia a life."

I thought my heart had long since turned to granite.

But hearing those words from Grayson's own lips felt like a shard of ice driving through my chest.

Tears welled, and I bit my lip hard to keep them from spilling. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

My silence seemed to soften him, and he tried again. "Aurora, you've always been the reasonable one, haven't you?"

"What if I don't want to be reasonable anymore?"

My voice trembled, but it held a resolve he had never heard before.

"You know perfectly well that Dahlia is doing this on purpose. Last time it was the northern lights trip, the time before was our engagement dinner. Can't you see it? How many more times are you going to let her fool you?"

The moment I finished speaking, a sharp slap cracked across my face.

My mother, Beatrice, her hand still raised, glared at me with a mixture of disgust and fury, as if I weren't her daughter but some ungrateful monster.

"Aurora Sterling, you cold-blooded monster!"

She pointed a trembling finger at my face, her voice rising for all the guests to hear. "Dahlia's mother lost her life to save you!"

"And now Dahlia is just emotionally unstable, and you have the gall to say such cold-blooded things?"

"If I had known you'd turn out this ungrateful, I wish my sister had never jumped in the sea to save you!"

The eyes of the surrounding guests were all fixed on me—some with pity, some whispering, and some with a cruel glimmer of schadenfreude.

I was wearing a Vera Wang gown that was supposed to bring me happiness, yet my cheek was already blooming with the bright red of a handprint. I was a clown in a white dress, publicly humiliated.

My mother, however, had no regard for my dignity. She turned to Grayson, her tone instantly softening. "Grayson, go find Dahlia," she urged, then shot me a venomous look. "Let's see you try and stop him now."

Grayson shot me a conflicted look.

Then, he turned and strode away without a backward glance.

A triumphant smirk touched my mother's lips. She leaned in, her voice dripping with contempt. "See? When it comes to Dahlia, you'd better learn to shut your mouth."

I stared at her, a sob catching in my throat.

"Just because her mother saved me, I have to owe her for the rest of my life?"

She didn't hesitate for a second, her voice firm and resolute.

"That's right. This isn't just about postponing a wedding. If one day Dahlia wants Grayson, you will step aside without a moment's hesitation."