My body went rigid as I tightened my grip on the phone. I didn’t really know this man on the other end of the line. All I knew about him came from Dorian—how his tone sharpened every time Landon’s name was mentioned, how hatred rolled off him whenever their rivalry came up. And strangely, that alone was enough.

If Dorian loathed him that deeply, then perhaps Landon was the sharpest blade I could use to cut Dorian down.

A cold smile crept onto my lips. My voice stayed calm, but my chest felt like it was burning from the inside.

“Then maybe you should be the one to come get me.”

His laugh was slow and confident, the sound of someone who never doubted himself.

“Running away from your groom? I like that idea.”

A weak chuckle slipped from me. “Tomorrow, then,” I murmured, ending the call before I could change my mind.

My heart pounded—not with fear, but with something darker and far more dangerous.

Revenge.

Then I turned—and nearly jumped out of my skin.

Dorian was standing in the doorway, watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Who was on the phone just now?” he asked.

I forced my expression to remain relaxed despite the panic in my veins. “Mara,” I replied lightly. “You remember her—my best friend. She’s coming to the wedding.”

He stared at me for another moment before speaking again. “Actually…” His tone shifted, suddenly casual. “I think we’ll need to delay the wedding.”

The words knocked the air from my lungs. “Delay it?”

He moved closer, sighing. “Something urgent came up overseas. I have to leave on a business trip. Once I’m back, I’ll focus on us again.”

I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting in a brittle smile. “Of course.”

“You’re not upset?” he asked carefully.

I shook my head. “I get it.”

His fingers brushed my hair, guilt briefly flashing across his face. “I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Should I help you pack?” I offered quietly.

He gave me a tired smile. “That would be great.”

That night I folded his clothes, lined up his shoes, zipped his suitcase with hands that felt strangely calm. When he kissed my forehead goodbye, convinced everything was still under his control, I stood alone in the penthouse after he left.

To distract myself, I began tidying up—and noticed his laptop still open.

I knew I shouldn’t touch it.

But I did.

The email on the screen made my blood run cold.

“Maldives Wedding Confirmation — Dorian & Yvette.”

I laughed aloud, a hollow, broken sound. “So that’s your business trip.”

My phone buzzed.

A message from Yvette—along with a photo of her kissing Dorian, his hands buried in her hair.

Doesn’t he look happier with me?

I stared at it for a long time before blocking her number.

The next morning, Dorian texted like nothing had happened: I’ll buy you something nice when I’m back.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I slipped on my coat and walked toward the exit.

The butler looked up. “Madam, where are you heading?”

“Just to buy something for the wedding,” I replied smoothly. “I’ll take a taxi.”

I left my packed bags behind on purpose. If anyone was watching, they would think I was staying.

But around the corner waited a black limousine.

The window slid down.

Landon smiled at me—sharp, unreadable. “So, ready to disappear?”

A flicker of fear passed through me, but I pushed it aside. Anything was better than the prison I’d lived in.

“I am,” I said.

Hours later, as his private jet lifted into the sky, I removed my SIM card, staring one last time at Dorian’s name. Then I tossed it away.

“Goodbye,” I whispered.

---

Dorian’s POV

I couldn’t stop pacing. Camille hadn’t replied to any of my messages.

“Dorian,” Yvette purred, wrapping her arms around me. “Why bother with her? She’s probably throwing another tantrum. We’re the ones getting married—”

I shrugged her off. “Don’t.”

She smiled lazily. “Don’t remind you that you belong with me?”

I glared at her. “This is business. I’m still marrying Camille.”

She laughed. “After everything you did to her? Please.”

Her words struck harder than I expected. I pulled out my phone.

Camille’s name was gone.

Blocked.

My stomach dropped.

I called the butler immediately. “Where is Camille? Why isn’t she answering me?”

A pause. Then his answer: “She left yesterday, sir… and never returned.”

The silence of the hotel was suffocating. My chest ached, a gnawing emptiness that grew heavier with every unanswered call.

I threw another suit into my luggage, grabbing the phone with my other hand. “Book me a flight,” I barked at the airline. “Earliest one to the States. I don’t care what it costs—just get me there tonight.”

Behind me, Yvette’s voice sliced through the room. “Seriously, Dorian? You’re going to postpone our wedding for that? We’re in Maldives! Everyone’s expecting this wedding!”

I stilled, my hands clenching into fists. “I don’t care. I’m going back to Camille.”

She crossed her arms, eyes flashing. “What about the merger? The contracts? You know you need this. And for what? Because she didn’t come home last night? And is not replying to you?” Her tone dripped with mockery. “If you ask me, she’s just making this a big deal to get your attention.”

I didn’t reply and just continued thinking about Camille.

“Come on! She’s such a nothing, poor bitch, who’s clinging to you like a parasite!” she added.

Something in me snapped. I turned, my palm striking her cheek before I even realized what I’d done. The sound cracked through the air, followed by her sharp cry.

“You dare—” Yvette clutched her face, eyes wide with disbelief. “You dare hurt me for her? For that woman?” Her voice pitched higher, hysterical. “My parents will hear of this! They’ll never accept you after this!”

“What’s going on here?”

My mother’s voice cut in, calm but venomous, as she stepped into the room. Vivienne’s sharp eyes darted from Yvette’s trembling form to the half-packed luggage at my feet.

“He’s postponing the wedding to chase after her,” Yvette spat, her finger pointing at me like an accusation.

Vivienne’s face darkened. “Are you insane, Dorian?”

“No,” I said firmly, turning to meet her gaze. “For once, I’m not. This wedding, this whole thing—it’s fake. It’s all for business. But my marriage to Camille? That’s real. And I won’t give her up.”

Her lips curled in disdain. “She’s nothing but a gold digger.”

“No,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “She’s not. It’s my fault she left. I pushed her away. I hurt her—God, I humiliated her—because I thought I was protecting her. But all I did was destroy the one person who ever stayed.”

My mother’s expression shifted, a cruel sort of amusement in her eyes. “Is that what you think? That she’s innocent?”

“What are you saying?”

“She left you, Dorian,” Vivienne said smoothly. “She asked me for ten million dollars. I transferred it to her account myself.”

My chest tightened. “No. You’re lying.”

“Am I?” She pulled out her phone, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping a few buttons. A video played, Camille’s voice trembling: ‘I’ll take the money. Just prepare it in five days.’

And then—the proof. The transfer, her name etched beside the sum.

My head shook violently. “No… no, she would never…”

“She did,” my mother said simply.

The words struck me like a blade. My knees almost buckled as I staggered back, clutching the edge of the table for support.

My breath caught in my throat, and before I could stop it, a flood of memories came crashing into me.

The hospital. The sterile smell of antiseptic. The fog in my head when I first woke up, not knowing who I was, not even my own name.

And her. Camille.

I saw her again as if she were right in front of me. That tiny, dimly lit apartment where she brought me after the doctors released me with no one to claim me.

She had nothing, not even enough space to call it a home, but she gave me what she could.

I remembered waking up on her thin mattress, my body aching, my mind blank. She sat on the floor beside me, peeling potatoes with hands that shook from exhaustion.

“Where… am I?” I croaked, my voice raw.

She looked up, startled, then gave me the smallest, most reassuring smile. “You’re safe. That’s what matters. Don’t strain yourself.”

“Who… are you?” My chest tightened at the thought that I couldn’t even recognize her.

She hesitated, then placed the bowl aside. “I’m Camille. You don’t know me, but I… found you. And until you’re strong enough, I’ll take care of you.”

I remembered the way I stared at her, confused. “Why? You don’t even know me.”

Her lips trembled, but she lifted her chin with quiet resolve. “Because someone has to.”

She had nothing. But she never asked me for anything.

I had promised her the world. And in return, I gave her lies.

“I refuse to believe this,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “No. Not Camille.”

“Then stay blind,” Vivienne hissed. “But understand this—if you go after her, if you choose her over us, you will never step foot as my heir again. You’ll lose everything.”

Her words hung in the air like a curse.

But what was wealth, what was power, when the one person I wanted most was already gone?

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. I simply zipped the luggage and walked past her, Yvette’s shrill protests ringing in my ears.

The private jet felt colder than ever as I boarded. My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, the screen lighting up with her name—voicemail, unanswered calls, message after message left unread.

Blocked.

The finality of it carved a hollow into my chest.

As the plane lifted into the night sky, I leaned back, staring blankly at the stars outside the window. Memories haunted me with every breath—her laughter when she burned herself in the kitchen and I scolded her gently, her tearful smile when I swore I’d give her everything once I had the money, her quiet strength when she told me she’d wait for me no matter how long.

And now?

All I could hear was my own voice breaking in the silence.

“Please,” I whispered, pressing the phone to my lips. “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry, Camille. I’m so sorry.”

The tears came then, unbidden, hot and relentless. And the bitter fear that when he returned home, she would be gone forever.

Yvette could still feel the sting on her cheek. The humiliation of Dorian striking her, of being dismissed for that lowly woman, burned hotter than the red mark on her skin.

She paced the length of the room, her fury spilling out in shrill words.

“He dares hurt me for her? Me?!” she spat, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “If he doesn’t marry me, he’ll regret it. You know it as much as I do, Vivienne. Without my family’s support, without me covering your tracks, Dorian will learn the truth. He’ll know you had bankrupted the company because of your gambling when he disappeared. He’ll know the mess you hid from him.”

Vivienne’s face hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Lower your voice, Yvette. I am doing the best I can. I even gave Camille ten million dollars to ensure she disappears. She will never come back. This should all be simple.”

“Simple?” Yvette scoffed, eyes narrowing. “Your son doesn’t love me anymore when he should be. He’s still chasing after her! And this marriage? Postpone! What am I gonna tell them? My parents!”

Vivienne’s gaze was sharp, unforgiving. “Then make him love you. Stop whining. Seduce him. Better yet, make yourself pregnant. That way, he will have no choice but to keep you by his side. You think tears and shouting will win him? Do what it takes. We can just tell them something happened so we have to postpone it!”

Yvette’s lips parted in outrage, but she found no words to argue.

She only hissed through her teeth, fury flashing in her eyes. “That wretched Camille… she’s ruined everything.”

Vivienne’s tone turned cold, final. “Enough. We’ll talk about this again when we return. For now, we have to cancel everything before he makes more foolish decisions.”

Yvette bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, cursing Camille’s name under her breath.

Back at the estate, Dorian’s car screeched into the driveway. He burst through the door, ignoring the startled greetings of the staff. His chest heaved as he called her name again and again, his voice echoing against the high ceilings.

No answer. He ran upstairs, into their room. The moment he entered, the sight nearly broke him.

On the dresser lay two rings. The first, the diamond-studded engagement ring he had given her under the glittering lights of the city. The second, smaller and worn—the ring he had once bought with only five dollars in his pocket.

No stone, no shine. Just a simple band he had pressed into her palm years ago, his voice trembling with certainty. “Camille, I may have nothing now. But one day, I’ll give you everything. Until then, let this ring remind you of my promise.”

He sank to his knees, his fingers clutching the ring until his knuckles turned white.

Memories struck him like lightning—their laughter in that tiny apartment, the nights they shared a single blanket, the mornings when she brewed cheap coffee and teased him for being dramatic about the taste.

“One day, Dorian,” she had whispered into his ear when they lay together, “we’ll leave this place and start our family somewhere peaceful. And when that day comes, you won’t need to give me the world. You’ll just need to stay.”

But he hadn’t stayed. He had obeyed his mother. He had let Yvette walk all over her. And now… Camille was gone.

“Find her,” Dorian barked at the butler, his voice breaking. “I don’t care how—call every driver, check every street, search every corner. She left in a car, you said? Then find out who the hell was behind the wheel.”

“Yes, sir,” the butler said, bowing quickly before rushing out.

Dorian remained on his knees, the rings digging into his palms as he called her number again. Each time, the call ended with the same hollow response—blocked.

His voice trembled as he whispered into the empty room, “Please, Camille. Come back. Don’t do this to me. Not now.”

The hours dragged on, each second heavier than the last. He thought of every moment he had failed her—the anniversary he forgot, the dinners where she was left alone, the cruel words he spat just to please his mother.

The memories clawed at him until tears slid down his face.

And then, in the middle of his despair, a thought struck him.

Mara. Her best friend.

Dorian stumbled to his feet, wiping at his face. “Mara,” he muttered, reaching for his phone. He dialed her number, praying she would answer.

“Hello?” her voice finally came, cautious.

“Mara—it’s me, Dorian. Do you know where Camille is?”

There was a pause. “I thought you two were fine. She told me you made up, that the wedding was still on. That’s why I haven’t seen her. I was supposed to go there now. Wait… what’s happening?”

Dorian’s chest tightened. “No. She’s not here. She’s gone. Didn’t she tell you where she is? She’s not really with you?”

Mara sighed heavily, her tone sharp with disappointment. “No. I don’t know… Oh, god. Of course, she was heartbroken, Dorian. Do you really think she could just smile and go on after what you did with Yvette? She told me she wanted to call it off. But after yesterday… she never replied. Nothing since.”

His grip on the phone trembled. “She’s not home, Mara. She never came back.”

The silence on the other end was heavy. Then Mara spoke softly, almost sorrowfully. “Then you’ve truly hurt her, Dorian. Hurt her enough for her to leave everything behind.”

His vision blurred with tears. The weight of it all bore down on him—her absence, his guilt, the promise he had broken.

But beneath it, a flicker of resolve burned.

“I might know where to find her,” Dorian whispered, his voice hoarse. “Our old apartment. She once told me that when everything fell apart, she’d go back there… because that’s where we dreamed of starting our family.”

Without another word, he began packing his things again, his heart pounding with desperate hope.