Lily's POV

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest declared, and the hall exploded with loud cheers.

The groom, my handsome fiancé Vincent, leaned down to kiss his blushing bride. I fought back tears and watched from outside the church as their lips met.

Vincent pulled back and gazed down at her with love in his eyes—the same way he had looked at me that morning when I handed him his lunch before he left for what I thought was a normal workday.

Not his wedding.

I could see our employees in the pews, people I had once called family, cheering him on as he betrayed six years of love and painful sacrifice.

His new bride, Stacy Monroe, squealed as he swept her into his arms and carried her down the aisle.

The excited crowd began to trickle out of the church, the sound of their celebration filling the street.

Unable to handle the humiliation of being discovered, I turned and walked back to my car.

I could barely get the key into the slot with how hard I was sobbing, but somehow I managed.

I set the car to reverse but was stopped by a knock on the window.

It was a man in a suit who introduced himself as the assistant to the man behind the anonymous text that led me to discovering Vincent's deceit.

Sebastian Jones, the tragic billionaire and philanthropist who lost the use of his legs after an accident that claimed his parents' lives. And, most importantly, Stacy Monroe's fiancé—or should I say ex.

His assistant, Matthew, informed me that Mr. Jones would like to speak to me. I didn’t get the chance to protest before the phone was handed over to me.

"Miss Lily Hart," a deep baritone voice came through the phone.

The title was like salt on a fresh wound, but I was a businesswoman above all else, so I pulled myself together before responding.

"Mr. Sebastian Jones." I cringed when my voice cracked. "It's a pleasure speaking to you."

"The pleasure is all mine, considering we're both in the same boat."

We weren't. Not when every tabloid around went crazy when his engagement to Stacy was announced to the public.

'Beauty weds the crippled Beast' were some of the tamer headlines.

I could only imagine what he was going through, knowing the humiliation about to come once people found out his soon-to-be wife picked an upstart from a small company over him.

"Vincent has hurt and humiliated you, Lily, just as Stacy has done to me. Isn't it only fair we make them pay?"

I was more bitter than vengeful because, deep down, I was tired.

Tired of the relationship, tired of having to swallow my jealousy when Vincent let women rub themselves against him with playful touches.

And tired of pretending I was fine after what happened months ago.

But I was also curious.

"How do you propose we do that?"

"Marry me."

My eyes widened. I was sure I misheard him.

But then he repeated those two words as casually as you would talk about the weather.

Like a true businessman, Sebastian responded to my silence by explaining why it would be mutually beneficial for us to get married.

It all sounded so logical when he said it, yet I couldn't say yes.

Unlike him and Stacy, I actually loved Vincent, and marrying just to get back at him felt too much too soon.

He left me with his number on a piece of paper that I immediately tossed into the glove compartment to be forgotten.

Then I drove back home.

The house was hauntingly silent as I began packing everything important into a suitcase.

The smell of Vincent cologne still lingered in the air. The sheets were rumpled from last night, his tie drawer was wide open after him getting dressed a mere three hours ago.

It was all a glaring reminder of how suddenly my life had fallen apart. Or maybe it had been falling apart, but I was too busy trying to convince him that I would one day be the perfect wife while running the company to notice.

Packing away our photo albums, I paused to flip through them, and it led to me curled up on our bedroom floor, crying over our memories.

He had been there after my parents died, helping me pick up the pieces and even offering to assist me in running the company they had left behind.

We had something good. We were the envy of our friends because it was so picture-perfect, and he ruined it.

For real love or a chance to build a relationship with Stacy's father, I could not tell.

I snapped the book closed and tossed it into the trash can. My eyes fell on my hand as it hovered over the garbage, and they narrowed on the ring on my finger.

It was a plastic ring Vincent had won from a vending machine four years ago. He proposed to me with it, and still high off the excitement of our date, I had immediately said yes.

Compared to Stacy's ring—a beautiful silver piece with inlaid diamonds—my ring was less than worthless.

I pulled it off without a second thought and tossed it in with the photo album.

Then I made my way to the study to grab the last of my things from the safe.

Spreading out the files, I began sorting through for the deed to our house, share certificates, articles of incorporation, and a few other documents for properties I owned or jointly owned with Vincent.

It didn't take long for me to discover a disturbing theme.

They were all in Vincent's name

Lily's POV

I called twelve different lawyers, and none could help me.

My own team of legal advisors, men and women I thought were on my side and Hart Inc.'s, quickly proved who they were truly loyal to

Vincent.

After half an hour of listening to them try to manipulate me into thinking I had knowingly signed away everything I had, I ended the call and tossed my phone aside.

I didn’t care about the other properties or the house. All that mattered was the company.

My parents' brainchild started in our garage a few months after I was born. I had worked with them to keep it going my whole life up until they died and continued until I had made it a small but honest empire.

Vincent became the face of the company because he had said a man taking the lead would be a better image, but I had always been the brain behind the whole operation.

And now he had stolen it from me.

Vincent forged my signature or somehow got me to sign away my rights to my own parents' company.

I wanted to scream and rip through the study from the injustice of it all, but all I could do was hold back frustrated tears.

If I walked right now like I wanted to, I would lose it all and be penniless.

I had to find a way to get what was mine back, but with no one I could truly trust to not be on Vincent's side, I didn’t know where to begin.

My mind flashed back to my encounter with Sebastian Jones.

I was unsure if he would be willing to help after I turned him down. But he was powerful and possibly the only person who could help me get what was rightfully mine back.

But was I willing to enter a loveless marriage to save my parents' business?

The answer came easy.

I left the study and headed straight for my car, hoping I could still find his number in the glove compartment.

The doorknob turned before I could grab it. There was no time to hide as the newly wedded couple walked into the house.

Vincent's smile dulled when he caught sight of my red-rimmed eyes, and Stacy's smile did the exact opposite.

"Did you find out from the news?" She asked with a cheerful giggle. "You know our wedding was the talk of the town. Even ‘G’ Entertainment covered the reception, and people couldn't shut up about my ring."

She shoved her hand in my face to show off what had been bought with the hard work stolen from me.

Impatient to get Sebastian's number, I slapped her hand away and tried to walk past her.

Stacy screamed like she had been burned. I watched, stunned, as she crumbled to the ground while clutching her hand.

It was a ridiculous display, something only a fool would believe.

Vincent hurried over and began fussing while she whimpered and her eyes filled with fake tears.

He turned to me with a glare.

"I understand you're upset, but you have no right to put your hands on Stacy."

"I don't have time for this," I mumbled, trying to head to the door.

Vincent blocked my path, his eyes—that had once gazed at me with tender affection—burning with rage.

"Don't ruin this for me, Lily. Marrying Stacy is the best thing for me. For us," he said, reaching out to touch my cheek. I slapped his hand away.

"I wish you a happy married life, no hard feelings. Now if you’ll excuse me..."

He blocked me again. "Apologize to her. She's my wife, and I refuse to let you disrespect her—"

"This is my house, and I'd be damned if I let you order me around in it," I hissed, all the rage and frustration I felt bubbling up to the surface.

"You think Vincent letting you squat here makes you the owner?" Stacy laughed, her tears nowhere to be found.

Confused, I turned to Vincent, who had a deer-in-headlights look.

Realization dawned on me, and I couldn't hold back my smile. "You told her I'm squatting in your house, Vincent?"

"Stop talking," he growled, too prideful to beg me to stay quiet.

"Why should I?" I challenged him. "Don't you want your bride to know how much her successful husband is really worth...?"

His hand was suddenly in my hair, and I screamed from the pain, causing me to drop my keys.

I scrambled to get them, but his hold was unrelenting as he dragged me to the door.

"I wanted to be civil about this, maybe even keep you for when Stacy became too much," he whispered as he opened the door. "But now I see you're not worth the trouble."

He tossed me out into the cold and slammed the door in my face.

I banged on the door, screaming for my keys and wallet, but Vincent ignored me.

I was left outside with no way to get into my car and no money to get a hotel room.

With nothing left to do, I made my way into the street, hoping to hitchhike my way to a friend's house.

A car pulled up beside me, and I sighed in relief when I saw the familiar face of Sebastian's assistant, Mattew.

I got into the car, and he drove me away from the life I had worked so hard to build, with nothing but the clothes on my back.

Lily's POV

We arrived at Sebastian's home a few hours later.

I was welcomed with a warm shower, fresh clothes, and dinner he insisted on having with me.

Sebastian rolled into the dining room as casually as he would have strolled in.

I tried not to stare at his legs, covered by a blanket, as he took his place at the table.

He had saved me from spending the night on the street, and I was about to ask him to stick his neck out for me. The least I could do was be respectful about what might be an insecurity for him.

After dinner, we moved to the lounge to drink and talk over a crackling fire.

I told him everything, and he listened, patient and attentive.

I couldn't help but compare him to Vincent, who always became the busiest man in the world when I wanted to talk, even though I was the one doing most of the work.

"Unless you can get proof he forged your signatures, the only way to get everything is to buy them back."

I sighed, exhausted both physically and mentally. "I don't have the money to buy back everything."

And I wouldn't pay Vincent a dime for what was rightfully mine.

"But I do. As well as the resources to have Vincent investigated for fraud."

I stared at him, contemplative. "You would do that for a stranger?"

He brought out a ring box from his housecoat pocket and held it out to me. "I would do that and more for my wife."

I took the box and opened it to reveal a stunning ring. It was a little more subtle than Stacy's ring, but to me, it was far more beautiful.

I slipped it on, and it fit, the heart-shaped emerald complimenting me perfectly.

"I can't get on my knee, unfortunately..."

"It doesn't matter," I brushed off easily, looking away from the ring to give him a soft smile.

He smiled back, and it lit up his face, making him appear twice as handsome under the fire's glow.

"Will you marry me, Miss Hart?"

"I will," I responded with a soft laugh at the absurd situation.

We spent the evening getting to know each other.

Sebastian was a reserved man, but I could tell from the way he spoke that there was warmth under the tough shield he kept up to protect his heart from the world's harsh judgment.

It was all going so well until he mentioned wanting children, and the once-burning whiskey in my belly turned cold.

Thankfully, he did not notice my silence about the topic, and we moved on to other things. Though that glimmer of hope in his eyes caused guilt to haunt me for the rest of the night.

The next morning, I left Sebastian's home to get the rest of my things.

The house loomed ahead, and Mattew and I shared a look when we saw the black smoke rising from the front yard.

I was out of the car the second he parked, my feet leading me past the gates.

Standing on the lawn was Stacy with a determined look on her face as she stared down at the dying flames of a blackened heap by her feet.

In one hand, she held lighter fluid, and in the other, a box of matches.

I marched over to inform her she couldn't just burn things on my carefully groomed grass.

However, my steps slowed when my eyes caught something peeking out from the blackened lump.

It was a familiar pink fabric that looked just like the suit my mother had worn during her court marriage.

My heart dropped to my stomach when I caught sight of the wheel of the luggage I had packed my things into yesterday.

"No," I whispered, watching as the dying embers consumed the last of my parents' things.

The photo album my mother had meticulously recorded all our memories in, my father's lucky cufflinks, and every other trinket that would be useless to everyone else but meant everything to me.

"W-what have you done?" I wailed as I crumbled to my knees, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Stacy smiled, her eyes filled with sadistic pleasure. "You acted so high and mighty yesterday, and that didn't sit right with me.”

“I don't think it's fair you keep anything bought with my husband's hard-earned money, so I made sure you can't."