It was his promotion. His big moment. And I couldn’t wait to celebrate it with him.

The bouquet in my hand was wrapped in white silk. I chose peonies because Dustin prefer giving it to me on special occasions. For lunch, I’d ordered Wagyu sliders and truffle fries from that pop-up bar he couldn’t stop talking about.

I even wore the black satin dress he said made his heart skip. I could already picture it—his surprised smile, the tug of his arms, the familiar kiss behind my ear.

The elevator chimed as it stopped at the 16th floor of Montenegro Media Tower. Dustin’s office was at the far end of the hallway.

“Congratulations, love,” I whispered, rehearsing it like a line in a play.

His secretary’s desk was empty. Strange. But I pushed the thought aside. His door was slightly ajar.

Perfect, I thought. This’ll be cute.

I stepped closer. Reached for the handle.

And froze on the spot.

A woman’s soft, flirty laugh slipped through the crack in the door. My pulse raced. A cold knot twisted in my gut.

“Come on, Dustin. Don’t act like you don’t miss it when I fix your tie.”

I knew that voice…

Bianca.

My cousin.

My childhood plus-one.

The one who used to copy my handwriting because she said it looked expensive. The one who always wanted what was mine.

Something inside me cracked. But I managed to push the door open anyway. Neither of them moved.

“Oh,” Bianca said with a grin, her voice sticky-sweet and poisonous. “Heleina! What a surprise. To whom do we owe this sudden visit?”

My throat tightened. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dustin straightened like a schoolboy caught cheating. “Heleina—I didn’t know you were coming today.”

I almost broke right there. But I didn’t. I walked inside slowly, like nothing in me had just collapsed. I set the bouquet and lunch on the side table with shaking hands.

Bianca hopped off the desk and smoothed her skirt. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” I laughed weakly. “But why do you seem defensive, dear cousin?"

Bianca crossed her arms. “Oh, yeah? Maybe you’re just overreacting.”

Dustin tried to step in. “Babe, we were just talking—”

“Do you always lean in that close when you talk?” My voice cracked. God, I hated that.

Bianca gave me a hard look—like I was a tantrum in heels. “You’re always so emotional, Heleina. It's exhausting.”

I swallowed hard. “Sorry. Am I boring you while you seduce my boyfriend?”

“Ex,” she corrected casually. “Let’s be real. Dustin’s been halfway out the door for months.”

I turned to him. He didn’t deny it. I stared at them. The scent of peonies filled the room. Sweet. Wrong. Mocking. I picked up the bouquet. Stared at it. Then gently, quietly, dropped it into his trash bin.

Dustin took a step toward me. “Heleina—”

“No.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t.”

I backed away and walked out.

And the moment the elevator doors slid shut, I let go. Hot tears came before I could stop them. I realized, I was trying too hard ignoring the red flags I’d been collecting like secrets.

The sky had opened up by the time I stepped out of the building. Rain soaked the silk of my dress, my hair clinging to my neck. I didn’t care. I walked straight into the storm like it could wash the betrayal off me.

I wasn’t thinking clearly. I stepped off the curb.

Then everything exploded. A horn blared. Brakes screamed. Pain hit me like a wave—white-hot and disorienting. I fell hard, my elbow slamming against the pavement. I tasted blood. The world spun sideways.

Someone was shouting. A man knelt beside me. “Miss? Are you okay? Don’t move—don’t move!”

I blinked up, trying to breathe. Trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong in one day. My pride was shattered; my heart was cracked.

And I was lying in the middle of a the street like every cliché I used to laugh at. I reached into my soaked purse and pulled out my phone with shaking fingers. There was only one person I could call.

“Andrew,” I gasped when he answered. “I—I need a favor.”

“Heleina?” My eldest brother’s voice sharpened. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I need… I need to you arrange my marriage to someone.”

“What?”

I paused, coughing through tears. “I don’t care who it is. Just—make it someone powerful enough to ruin Dustin’s life by existing next to mine.”

“Heleina… if I make this call, there’s no going back.”

“I won't. Let me marry this guy before I die.”

I closed my eyes, letting the phone slide against my hand.

My body shook from where it hurts. Hospitals make you feel like you're on pause like—hooked up to wires, wrapped in gauze, lying in a bed that smells like bleach and pity. The moment I opened my eyes that morning, I remembered everything.

Dustin’s office.

Bianca’s smug smile.

The bouquet hitting the floor.

Then the horn, the flash of headlights—

And finally, the silence.

That kind of betrayal doesn’t just break your heart. It dissolves your dignity. I’d built my life around being put together. The polished daughter. The quiet achiever. The loyal girlfriend. All that cracked in one afternoon.

I was still staring at the ceiling when the door creaked open. I turned my head slowly. Expecting Andrew but it wasn’t my brother. It was him—the man I’m going to wed with.

Charismatic. Hot. Intimidating. Dressed in black from head to toe. Hair tousled like he hadn’t bothered to fix it. And eyes—sharp, silver-gray, and unsettlingly steady—that made me forget to breathe.

“You’re Heleina,” he said flatly, his voice deep, quiet, and utterly unimpressed.

I straightened in bed, ignoring the pain in my ribs. “And you must be the favor I—”

“Silas Provetsky,” he cut in in a stern voice.

He didn’t fidget. Didn’t glance at his phone. Just stood there with the unsettling calm of someone used to walking into rooms filled with tension and walking out the same way he came in—untouched.

“I thought you’d be older,” I said.

“I thought you’d be smarter.”

“Excuse me?”

“Marrying someone out of spite?” He raised a brow. “Sounds like a long, expensive way to prove you weren’t the boring girlfriend.”

I stiffened. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” he said, eyes dropping to the bruises peeking out from my hospital gown. “Andrew filled me in.”

“Of course he did.”

I studied him, the sharp angles of his face, the way he refused to meet my gaze for too long. He was guarded. Closed-off. But not indifferent. His eyes kept flicking to my wrist, wrapped tight in gauze. To the IV in my arm. To the bruise blooming across my collarbone. He noticed everything. Even when he pretended not to care.

“And you said yes?” I asked, voice tight.

“I said I’d talk.”

“Right,” I muttered. “Talk to the girl with the wrecked pride and a concussion. What a dream proposal.”

He didn’t even smile. Just looked at me like I was a folder to be read, filed, and forgotten.

“You want a name,” he said. “I have one.”

“And you want…?”

He tilted his head. “Nothing.”

I stared at him. “No agenda? No clause in fine print? No bitter ex or revenge fantasy of your own?”

“I told you already. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His presence made me nervous, but it also intrigued me. Silas was ice in human form—but not the kind that melted. I could see it in the way he stood—tense but effortless. Like a man who loved to court danger.

“What’s your story?” I asked quietly.

He looked away, jaw tightening. “Not relevant.”

“Everything’s relevant,” I said. “Especially if I’m going to sign your last name like it’s a damn armor.”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Then finally—“Let’s get something straight. I don’t lie. I don’t cheat. And I don’t promote love.”

“Why?” I asked, voice soft.

He turned back to me, and something flickered in those storm-gray eyes. Just a flash.

“Because people who love me end up broken.”

I swallowed hard. And there it was—the shadow. His wounded soul seeped through me. I should’ve pulled away. But I leaned forward instead.

“Good,” I whispered. “Because I’m already broken. Now I just want to make sure Dustin regrets leaving me this way.”

Silas gave a short nod. “It’s a deal, then.”

He walked toward the door. Something tugged at me before he left. Maybe it was curiosity. Or the fact that for the first time since Dustin, someone saw me without flinching.

“Wait,” I said.

He paused. I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I just knew I wasn’t ready for him to go.

“You don’t have to pretend,” I said quietly. “You came here because Andrew asked. But you stayed longer than two minutes. That means something.”

He didn’t turn around. But I noticed his hand tighten slightly on the doorknob.

Then he said, “You should rest. I’ll have the paperwork sent tomorrow.”

I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling again. Only this time, it didn’t feel so cold. So suffocating. Something about him stayed with me. Something dangerous yet calming.

Strange but I want to feel it more. I squeezed my eyes shut and then—

The door slammed open. Andrew rushed in, face tight. I jolted and scooted on the bed.

“You have to see this, Heleina.”

“What—what is it?”

He pulled out his phone and shoved it in front of me. The screen showed Bianca—on live. Drunk. Screaming her heart out at a party held at the Green Mansion—my parent’s hotel.

‘…And Heleina? She’s not even sick, okay? She threw herself in front of a car to get attention. Dustin was going to leave her anyway—she knew it! She just can’t stand being second best.’

Silas scoffed and then looked at me. “You just went viral for the wrong reason, Heleina.”

He saw me at my lowest point as a woman...

Yet he still chose to stay and stand as my groom.

I stared at Bianca’s pixelated face on Andrew’s phone screen. She was laughing like my life was a punchline. And behind her, that glittering Green Mansion backdrop—the same venue I helped plan for her 25th birthday—burned like betrayal in high definition.

Andrew slowly lowered the phone, his mouth tight. “She’s out of control.”

I handed the phone back to Andrew with trembling fingers. “They think I did this for attention.”

“They don’t matter,” Andrew said firmly. “This will die down in a week.”

“Bianca will keep feeding it. She’s wanted my place since we were ten. She even used the Green Mansion to humiliate me,” I said under my breath.

Silas was leaning against the wall now, arms crossed, quiet as ever. But when he spoke, the words cut straight through the room. “She didn’t humiliate you, Heleina,” he said. “You let her win.”

Andrew, ever my shield, stepped forward. “Hey, take it easy bud—”

Silas said calmly, not even looking at him. “If she’s going to marry me, she needs to decide whether she’s playing victim… or taking the upper hand.”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. Not from embarrassment, but from the sharp sting of the truth sitting between us. He didn’t say it with judgment. Not even with malice. Just a blunt fact. Like someone reading your flaws aloud so you’d stop pretending they weren’t there. I looked up, meeting his intent gazes.

“You don’t want to walk into that wedding like a scandal,” Silas said and continued, “You want to walk untouched.”

He was right. My whole life, I played nice, elegant, controlled. But something inside me stirred. I wanted to cut the curse and choose myself this time.

I pulled the hospital blanket tighter around me. “When will the paperwork be ready?”

Silas didn’t blink. “First thing in the morning tomorrow. Prenup, confidentiality, name change options. I’ll have my lawyer send the draft.”

“Good,” I said.

Andrew clenched his jaw. “You’re actually going through with this?”

I turned to him, eyes defiant. “What do you want me to do? Wait for Bianca to throw me under another bus—literally?”

Andrew looked at me, his worry folding into quiet frustration but he didn’t argue.

Silas stepped closer to the bed. “I’ll handle the public angle. Keep your name out of the worst circles. But I need to know something, Heleina.”

I tilted my head. “What?”

“Once we sign this, you have to stick around. Can you handle the consequences?”

His words were stern, but his gaze lingered just a second too long on the bruise at my collarbone.

I didn’t blink when I said, “Yes. Let’s do this together, Mr. Provetsky.”

He watched me for a long beat. Then finally nodded and left.

__________________________________________________

The next morning, my house felt too quiet. Just the echo of my own thoughts bouncing off the walls. Then—three sharp knocks pulled me out of my trance. I opened the door, and there he was again—Silas Provetsky, dressed in slate gray today, hair wind-swept, a leather folder in his hand.

“Good morning,” he said in that flat, deep voice. “You’re awake.”

I didn’t answer right away. I’d barely slept. But I stepped aside, letting him in.

He walked in like he belonged. Eyes scanning the place. “Your interior designer had taste.”

“That’s me,” I said, following him. “She got dumped and redecorated instead.”

“Effective coping mechanism,” he muttered. Then held out the folder. “The prenup.”

I took it, flipping through. Clean terms. Asset separation. Confidentiality clause. Joint appearances for press. No romantic expectations. Just signatures and privacy.

“Clear enough?” he asked.

“Yes.” I looked up. “Can I buy you lunch?”

His brows lifted, just slightly. “Why?”

“Because I hate looking like the tragic one,” I said, grabbing my coat. “If the city’s already talking about me, they might as well get the next chapter right.”

We ended up in a quiet corner of a high-end restaurant inside Rockwell. Despite everything, it was… almost normal. He didn’t smile, but he asked if my head still hurt. And when I laughed at something the waiter said, he looked up—just briefly—and nodded like the sound surprised him.

Then, as if summoned by every bad decision I’ve ever made, Bianca walked in. She spotted me first. She sauntered over to our table like a woman with a camera crew behind her.

“Well, this is new,” Bianca said, feigning shock and amusement. “You’re out? Didn’t you just survive a car fiasco?”

I ignored her and took a sip of my drink.

She turned to Silas and gave him a once-over, practically licking her lips. “And who’s this? Your latest publicity stunt?”

Silas didn’t flinch. He reached for his coffee calmly, like her presence bored him.

“He’s my fiancé,” I said, voice firm.

Bianca let out a high-pitched laugh. “You’re kidding. You got engaged? Didn’t know bandages came with diamond rings now.”

My jaw clenched. “Leave me alone, Bianca.”

“Oh, no,” she said sweetly. “I’m just getting started, dear cousin.” She turned her eyes on Silas. “You must not know what you’re getting into. Heleina’s idea of love is crashing her own pity party and playing victim until someone feeds her compliments.”

Silas leaned back slowly and then looked her straight in the eye. “She doesn’t need compliments. She needs peace of mind. Something you’re clearly unfamiliar with.”

Bianca blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Silas said, voice like smoke. “She didn’t ask for your opinion. And unless you're on the menu, I suggest you find another table.”

I nearly choked on my iced tea. Bianca’s face went stiff. But before she could come up with another insult—another voice sliced through the air.

“Heleina.”

I turned and saw another nightmare—Dustin. He stood in the middle of the restaurant clad in his wrinkled shirt and a stoic face.

He took a step closer and held my hand. “I saw the posts. The press is blowing everything up.”

“Must be tough dealing with backlash after you cheated in a suit and tie,” I said, pulling my arm away.

Bianca cut in, scoffing. “Heleina, don’t be so overly dramatic—”

“Shut up, Bianca,” Dustin snapped. His voice was quiet, but sharp enough to silence her.

Then, he turned to me. “Can we talk?”

Silas rose from his seat. “She’s eating.”

Dustin ignored him and kept on bugging me. “I want closure, Heleina. Besides, this has nothing to do with him.”

“It does now,” Silas said. Calm. Cold. Dangerous. “She’s my fiancée.”

The word sting like a wine splashed on the wound. People started to notice. Phones were subtly lifted. I swallowed hard, keeping my poise in place.

“Unbelievable. One week out and you’re already marrying him? Who even is this guy?”

“Give me a break, Dustin,” I said. “Whatever you want to say, you’re three betrayals too late.”

He opened his mouth again—and a loud click of a camera went off. Someone had taken a picture. Another. Then two more. Bianca looked around, suddenly panicked.

I took a breath, straightened my spine, and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Come, love. Let’s not ruin our engagement lunch.”

Silas didn’t hesitate. He slid his arm across my back, guiding me away from the table.

But as we stepped out into the crowd, Dustin shouted behind us—

“Heleina, wait—You don’t know who you’re marrying!”