Three hundred guests stared at me in deafening silence.

I stood alone at the altar.

My fingers gripped my phone, pressing it to my ear beneath the lace edge of my veil. The line rang four times. Five times.

"Miss Whitmore," the priest whispered, leaning closer. "Should we wait another ten minutes?"

"No," I said.

Finally, the call connected. A click echoed through the speaker.

"Damon, where are you?" I demanded.

"Aria? Oh, thank god." Sienna Blake’s voice trembled, punctuated by a wet sniffle.

My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. Sienna. Damon's first love.

"Why do you have my fiancé's phone?" I asked.

"He left it on the bedside table." She let out a jagged sob. "He's with me. At St. Jude's Hospital. I got so sick, Aria. My heart... I was gasping for air. He wouldn't leave my side."

"Put him on the phone."

"He's talking to the nurses. Please don't be mad at him. It's my fault."

I ended the call.

"Aria," my mother whispered from the front row, stepping forward. "What are you doing?"

"I'm finding my groom," I said.

I hiked up my heavy silk skirt and marched down the aisle. Whispers erupted from the pews, but I ignored them. I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the church and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.

I didn't wait for change.

The hospital doors slammed open. Nurses gaped at my white gown, but I shoved past them, scanning the room numbers on the fourth floor.

Room 412.

I pushed the door wide.

Damon sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He wore his tuxedo pants and a crisp white shirt, the bowtie completely undone. He was holding both of Sienna's hands.

"Damon," I said.

He snapped his head up. His jaw tightened, but guilt never crossed his features. Annoyance flashed in his dark eyes instead.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He dropped Sienna's hands and stood up.

"What am I doing here?" I stepped further into the room. The heavy silk of my dress dragged across the linoleum. "Our guests are waiting at the church. The priest is waiting. I am waiting."

Sienna shrank back against her pillows. She clutched the thin hospital blanket to her chest. "Damon, I told you to go. I told you this would happen. I didn't mean to ruin your wedding."

"Stop it, Sienna. You didn't ruin anything." Damon turned his glare on me. "She had a heart attack, Aria."

"A heart attack?" I repeated.

"She couldn't breathe. She collapsed in front of me." His voice hardened. "What was I supposed to do? Leave her on the floor so I could make it to the ceremony on time?"

"You could have called me."

"I had more important things to worry about."

The words landed harder than I expected.

More important than me.More important than our wedding.

I looked at the man I had loved for three years and felt something inside me crack.

Damon glanced toward Sienna."A wedding can be rescheduled, Aria. A life can't."

Sienna's eyes filled with tears. "Please don't fight because of me."

I almost laughed.

Instead, I looked at the monitor beside her bed.Steady heartbeat.Normal oxygen saturation.

No oxygen mask. No IV medication. Nothing that looked remotely like the emergency Damon had described.

"Which doctor diagnosed the heart attack?" I asked.

Damon frowned. "What?"

"Her doctor. I want to speak to them."

A nurse appeared less than a minute later. I looked directly at her.

"Could you ask Ms. Blake's attending physician to come in?"

Sienna went pale.

That was the first thing that made me suspicious.

A few minutes later, a gray-haired doctor entered with a tablet in his hand.

"Dr. Harris," Damon said. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Ms. Blake is stable."I folded my arms.

"Did she have a heart attack?"

The room went silent.

Dr. Harris glanced at Sienna, then shook his head.

"No. Her ECG and cardiac enzymes were normal. She experienced palpitations and shortness of breath, but there is currently no evidence of an acute cardiac event."

Damon froze.

I turned to Sienna."So you didn't have a heart attack."

Her face drained of color."I—I never said I definitely had one."

"You told me you were gasping for air."

"I was!"

"And you let Damon abandon our wedding because of it."

Her lips trembled. "I was scared."

"Scared?"

"That's enough."The voice came from behind me.

Deep. Cold. Unfamiliar enough to make me turn.A tall man stood in the doorway in a charcoal suit, one hand still wrapped around the handle of a suitcase.

Julian Cross.

Damon's older brother.

I'd only met him twice in three years. He spent most of his time in Europe and had flown back specifically for the wedding.

His eyes moved from my wedding dress to Damon, then to Sienna.

"So this is why there was no groom at the church."

Damon's expression darkened.

"This doesn't concern you."

"I flew eight hours for your wedding. I'd say it concerns me."

"Julian—"

"She didn't have a heart attack." Julian glanced at the doctor. "Correct?"

Dr. Harris nodded. "Correct."

Julian looked back at his brother.

"And instead of calling your bride, you left her standing alone in front of three hundred people."

Sienna suddenly started crying harder."I didn't know it wasn't serious! My parents are dead. I was alone, and I thought I was dying. I panicked."

Damon immediately moved toward her."Sienna, calm down."

Sienna wiped her tears. "I'm sorry, Aria. I really am. If you hate me, I understand."

Damon's jaw tightened."She apologized. What else do you want?"

I stared at him."What?"

"Look at her. She's already terrified, and you're interrogating her like a criminal."

"She lied about having a heart attack."

"She was scared."

"And I was standing alone at our wedding."

"You weren't dying!"His voice cracked through the room.

Silence followed.I stared at him.

Damon exhaled sharply, as if I were the one exhausting him.

"Just apologize to Sienna so we can end this."

Something inside me went very still.

"Apologize?"I reached up and pulled the veil from my hair.Then I slipped the diamond ring from my finger.

I tossed the ring at him.

"You abandoned me at the altar," I said. "You lied to me. You humiliated me in front of everyone I know. And now you want me to apologize to her?"

"Don't be dramatic.I'm not apologizing."

"Aria—"

Julian stepped between us.

"Don't."

Damon stared at him. "Move."

Julian didn't.His voice remained calm.

"The person with the least right to ask her to be reasonable today is you."

For the first time, Damon had nothing to say.I turned away before either of them could see my eyes burn.

I made it three steps into the hallway.

The lights suddenly blurred.

My stomach twisted.

I reached for the wall, but my fingers caught nothing.

I forced my eyes open just enough to see Damon coming out of the room.

Then Sienna grabbed his wrist."Damon..."She pressed a hand to her chest."I can't breathe again."

He stopped.

Julian looked at his brother, then down at me.His expression turned ice-cold.

"Stay with her."

He lifted me into his arms."I've got Aria."

Then everything went black.

---

When I opened my eyes again, the ceiling above me was white.

Someone was speaking outside the curtain.

Julian.

The doctor's voice lowered.

"Ms. Whitmore fainted from exhaustion and acute emotional stress. We'll run a few more tests, but there's something else you should know."

A pause.

"She's pregnant."

Silence.

"How far along?"

"Approximately six weeks."

My fingers curled beneath the blanket.

Six weeks.

Damon and I were going to have a baby.And less than an hour ago, he'd left me lying in another woman's shadow on our wedding day.

Outside the curtain, Julian spoke again.

"Does Damon know?"

"No."

Morning sunlight burned my eyes. I woke up on the stiff leather sofa of my downtown office. My hand immediately dropped to rest flat against my lower stomach.

*One last chance,* I promised the tiny life growing inside me.

I had not told Damon about the pregnancy yet. Today, I would give him the opportunity to explain his actions at the hospital. If he apologized, we could figure this out.

I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to our shared penthouse.

I unlocked the front door and pushed it open. Soft giggles drifted from the hallway.

Sienna stepped out of the master bedroom. She wore my ivory silk nightgown. The delicate lace dragged along the imported hardwood floor, brushing against her bare feet.

"Aria," Sienna squeaked, clutching the collar of my sleepwear. "You came back."

"Take that off," I demanded.

Damon emerged right behind her. He wore gray sweatpants and no shirt. He placed a protective hand on Sienna's shoulder, shielding her from my glare.

"Lower your voice," Damon ordered. "She needs quiet."

"She is wearing my clothes," I pointed out.

"It is just a piece of fabric. Stop acting so petty." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Sienna is staying here until her heart stabilizes. You are going to help take care of her."

I laughed. It was a sharp, ugly sound that echoed in the foyer. "Excuse me?"

"The hospital discharged her, but she requires a stress-free environment," Damon said. "You made a scene at the hospital yesterday. You owe her this."

"I owe her nothing. She ruined my wedding."

"She almost died, Aria! The world does not revolve around your schedule." Damon took a step forward, his shadow falling over me. "Sienna has nowhere else to go. Her apartment has stairs, and the doctor said she needs to avoid physical exertion. Be reasonable."

"Reasonable?" I tilted my head. "You abandoned me at the altar. You humiliated me in front of three hundred people. Now you bring her to our home?"

"It is temporary," he insisted.

Sienna stepped closer to him. The morning light caught a brilliant sparkle at her throat.

My bridal necklace. The diamond teardrop pendant I bought specifically for my wedding dress.

"Damon gave this to me," Sienna whispered. She traced the jewel with a manicured pink nail. "He said I needed cheering up after the terrible medical scare I had yesterday. It is so beautiful, Aria. I hope you do not mind."

"Take it off," I said.

"Aria, please," Sienna whimpered, shrinking behind Damon's shoulder. "I just wanted to feel pretty for a moment. Being sick takes such a toll on my self-esteem."

I did not yell. I walked straight up to her.

"Hey!" Damon shouted. "Leave her alone."

I bypassed him completely, grabbed the platinum chain at the back of Sienna's neck, and yanked hard. The clasp snapped.

"Ouch!" Sienna shrieked, stumbling backward into the wall. She rubbed her neck, tears welling in her eyes. "Damon, she hurt me!"

"Are you insane?" Damon lunged forward, checking Sienna's skin for marks. He spun back to me. "Give it back to her right now."

I dropped the heavy diamonds into my jacket pocket. I pulled out my phone, tapped the screen twice, and shoved it directly toward Damon's face.

"Cartier. Paris. Two million dollars," I said, reading the digital receipt aloud. "Paid directly from my personal bank account. Are you in the habit of gifting my financial assets to your ex-girlfriend?"

Damon flushed a deep, angry red. "I thought it was one of your brand sponsorships."

"You thought wrong." I turned toward the kitchen. "Maria!"

Our housekeeper hurried into the foyer, wiping her hands on an apron. "Yes, Miss Whitmore?"

"Go into the master bedroom. Pack this woman's bags. Throw them in the hallway by the elevators."

Maria nodded and rushed past us.

"Stop right there!" Damon roared. He stepped between Maria and the bedroom door, blocking her path.

"You are completely out of line, Aria. Sienna is my guest."

"Not in my house."

"We live together!" Damon yelled. "And since you want to act like a spoiled brat today, you can pack your own things. You are moving to the guest room. Sienna needs the master bed for her back."

I stared at the man I almost married yesterday. The father of the child I carried. The last shred of hope I held for our relationship vanished into thin air.

"I am moving to the guest room," I repeated.

"Yes. And you will apologize to her for scratching her neck."

"Or what?" I asked.

"Or we are done," Damon threatened. "I will not marry a woman who lacks basic human empathy."

I walked over to the entryway console table. I opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a thick manila folder. I slapped it onto the marble counter.

"Read it," I commanded.

Damon frowned. "What is this?"

"The property deed." I tapped the bold print at the bottom of the first page. "Sole owner: Aria Whitmore. I bought this penthouse three years ago. You just moved your clothes in."

Damon stared at the paper. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"You do not pay the mortgage," I continued, my voice steady. "You do not pay the property taxes. You do not even pay for the groceries in that fridge."

"Aria," he started, his voice faltering.

"Both of you," I said, pointing at the front door. "Get out."

The heavy oak door swung open before Damon could form a rebuttal.

Julian Cross strolled inside. He held my silver emergency clutch in his right hand.

"You left this in the waiting room at St. Jude's," Julian announced.

"Bad timing?" Julian asked, tossing the clutch onto the sofa.

"Julian, tell your insane sister-in-law to calm down," Damon snapped. "She is trying to throw a sick woman out on the street."

"From what I just heard in the hallway," Julian said, leaning against the doorframe, "she is throwing you out, too."

"This is my home!" Damon shouted.

Julian let out a low whistle. He picked up the deed and skimmed the text. "Actually, it looks like you are just a squatter. You do not even know who owns the roof over your head, yet you are ordering the landlord out of her own master bedroom?"

Damon snatched the paper from Julian's hands. He scanned the legal jargon, his face turning a sickly shade of pale.

"You have always been terrible with paperwork, Damon," Julian mocked. "But missing the fact that your fiancé owns a ten-million-dollar property? That takes a special kind of ignorance."

"Shut up, Julian," Damon growled. He looked back at me. "Aria, we are partners. What is yours is mine."

"We never signed the marriage certificate," I reminded him. "You were too busy holding her hand."

Sienna swayed on her feet. She clutched her chest, her face contorting in exaggerated agony.

"Damon," she gasped. "It hurts. My chest is tight."

She collapsed.

Damon caught her before she hit the floor. He scooped her into his arms, shooting me a look of pure venom.

"If her heart fails, I will never forgive you," Damon spat.

"The elevator is to your left," I replied.

Damon carried Sienna out the door. Julian lingered for a second.

"You handled that well," Julian noted.

"Goodbye, Julian."

He raised his hands in surrender and followed his brother out.

The penthouse finally fell silent.

I rubbed my temples. My purse sat on the edge of the sofa. I unzipped it to find my phone charger, but my fingers caught on a folded piece of medical paper.

I pulled it out. The ultrasound photo from last week. The tiny black-and-white blur that represented my entire future.

I set it on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of ice water. My hands shook as I gripped the faucet.

A soft rustle came from the living room.

I peeked around the marble island.

Sienna stood by the sofa. She must have slipped back inside while the door remained unlatched. She held the ultrasound photo in her hand.

Her eyes darted from the paper to my stomach. A twisted smile spread across her face.

Sienna jumped, her fingers crumpling the ultrasound paper. She shoved it into her sweatpants pocket.

"I was just looking for a coaster," Sienna lied. She picked up a steaming mug from the coffee table and held it out. "I made you some herbal tea. To apologize for the misunderstanding earlier."

I stared at the murky liquid. White powder clung to the inner rim.

"What kind of tea?" I asked.

"Chamomile," Sienna answered too quickly. "It is good for stress."

"Set it down," I ordered.

She placed it on the glass surface and scurried toward the guest room.

I poured the tea into a plastic sample vial from my first-aid kit and handed it to Maria.

"Take this to the private clinic down the block. Tell Dr. Evans I need a rush analysis on this liquid. Pay him whatever he asks."

"Right away, Miss Whitmore," Maria said, rushing out the back door.

An hour later, Maria returned with a folded printout.

Mifepristone. An abortion drug.

I walked to the guest room door and leaned against the frame. Sienna sat on the edge of the mattress, scrolling on her phone.

"The tea was delicious," I said.

Sienna’s head snapped up. A triumphant gleam flashed in her eyes before she masked it with a sweet smile. "I am glad you liked it. You should rest now. A good sleep will do wonders for your body."

I stepped back into the hallway and pressed my back against the wall. I pulled out my phone, hit record, and waited.

A minute later, Sienna’s voice drifted through the cracked door.

"Yes, she drank it all," Sienna whispered into her phone. "How long does it take for the cramping to start? I need to make sure the miscarriage looks natural. No, Damon won't suspect a thing. He thinks I am an angel."

I stopped the recording.

The front door chimed. Damon walked in, carrying a plastic pharmacy bag.

"Aria, we need to talk," he started. "I bought some vitamins for Sienna—"

I bypassed him, walked into the living room, and slammed the lab report onto the coffee table. I tapped play on my phone.

Sienna’s voice filled the room. *“How long does it take for the cramping to start? I need to make sure the miscarriage looks natural.”*

Damon froze. The plastic bag slipped from his grip, pills rattling against the floorboards. He stared at the guest room door, then down at the lab results.

"Sienna!" Damon roared.

She rushed out, her eyes darting between Damon and the phone in my hand.

"Care to explain why you slipped abortion pills into my drink?" I asked.

Damon grabbed Sienna’s arm. "Is this true? Did you drug her?"

Tears spilled down Sienna’s cheeks instantly. She fell to her knees, clutching Damon’s pant leg. "No! I just bought some supplements for my heart! The pharmacy must have mixed them up. Damon, you know I would never hurt anyone. I am too weak to even stand."

She sobbed loudly, burying her face against his knee.

Damon’s tight grip on her arm loosened. He looked up at me. "Aria, it might be a mistake. The pharmacy could have messed up her prescription."

"The lab report says Mifepristone," I countered. "Do they prescribe that for heart conditions?"

"Let’s not call the police over a misunderstanding," Damon insisted.

I stared at the man I loved for three years.

"A misunderstanding?" I asked.

"She is sick," Damon pleaded. "Do not ruin her life over an accident."

"I am pregnant, Damon."

The room went dead silent.

Damon’s mouth parted. His eyes dropped to my stomach, widening in shock. The anger melted off his face, replaced by a blinding, ecstatic joy.

"Pregnant?" he whispered. "Aria, a baby? We are having a baby?"

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out to touch my stomach.

I slapped his hand away. "Do not touch me."

Damon flinched. "Aria, this is amazing news. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You are protecting the person who just tried to kill your child," I stated.

Damon paled. He looked down at Sienna, who was staring at my stomach with pure hatred.

"Pack your bags," Damon told her, his voice devoid of warmth.

"Damon, please!" Sienna shrieked.

"I am calling a car. You are leaving my home right now." Damon turned and marched toward the kitchen to use the landline.

Sienna scrambled to her feet. She did not follow him. Instead, she walked toward the grand staircase near the foyer, shooting me a venomous glare.

I followed her, keeping my distance.

"You think you won?" Sienna sneered once we reached the top of the marble steps. The tears were completely gone.

I pulled my phone out and quietly slid my thumb over the record button.

"You faked the heart attack at the hospital," I said.

"Of course I did," Sienna laughed. "I faked the chest pains. I faked the tears. And I put those pills in your tea on purpose. Damon belongs to me, Aria. He always has. You are just a convenient bank account."

"You are pathetic."

Sienna’s eyes dropped to the glowing red dot on my phone screen. Her face twisted into an ugly snarl.

"Give me that!" She lunged forward, her nails digging into my wrist.

She snatched the phone from my grip. Before I could react, she shoved both of her hands hard against my chest.

My feet slipped on the polished marble.

I fell backward.

Pain exploded through my spine as I slammed against the hard edges of the stairs. I tumbled down, my head striking the railing, my stomach taking the brunt of the impact.

I hit the bottom landing with a sickening thud.

Agony ripped through my abdomen. A warm, sticky wetness pooled between my thighs.

Above me, Sienna screamed. She