Married to My Playboy Boss

*Chapter 1: The Empty Altar**

“Why isn't he here yet?”

The clock on the church wall showed twenty minutes past eleven.

The ceremony was supposed to start at eleven sharp.

Hannah Brooks stood in the preparation room, her white dress feeling increasingly tight against her chest.

She stared at her phone screen. Her eighteenth call to Ethan. The ringback tone sounded, sounded again, and then stopped.

*‘The number you are calling is currently unavailable.’*

"Try again," she whispered to herself.

Her fingers trembled as she pressed the name once more. It was the same result. The flat voice of the automated operator answered her again.

"Hannah." Her cousin, Mia, peeked through the crack of the door. Her face was pale. "The pastor is asking if we should keep waiting."

"Ethan must be caught in traffic," Hannah said quickly, deflecting the worst-case scenario. "Last night he said he would leave early in the morning."

Mia didn't answer. Her eyes dropped to the floor.

Hannah knew the meaning of that silence. She just didn't want to admit it yet.

"I'm stepping outside for a moment," Hannah said, remaining calm even though her chest was in turmoil.

She walked down the narrow hallway toward the side door. Her dress brushed against the marble floor. The cold morning air slapped her face the moment the door opened.

Hannah looked for another number on her phone. Ethan's mother. Ethan's close friend. His brother. No one picked up.

Why?

Anxiety wrapped around Hannah even tightly. She bit her lower lip hard.

Then her phone vibrated.

It wasn't from Ethan. The name appearing on the screen was: Saint Mary's Hospital.

Hannah held her breath. She answered in a voice that was barely audible. "Hello?"

"Miss Brooks? This is Nurse Claire from the cardiology ward." Her voice was calm, but overly cautious. "Your mother keeps asking about your wedding. She has been waiting since this morning."

"How is her condition?" Hannah asked, filled with hesitation.

"Her blood pressure spiked earlier. We gave her medication, but she is very restless." The nurse paused for a moment. "The doctor advised that she shouldn't experience any shock or emotional stress. Her heart isn't strong enough yet."

Hannah closed her eyes. She could picture her mother's face right now.

Eleanor Brooks, lying in a hospital bed with an IV tube in her arm, smiling every time someone mentioned the word ‘wedding’.

For the past three months, that was the only thing keeping her mother holding on through her treatments.

"I will call back again soon," Hannah said reassuringly, or perhaps more to calm herself. "Please tell Mom that everything is going smoothly."

"Very well, Miss."

The call disconnected.

Hannah stared at her phone. A new message appeared on her screen.

From Ethan.

Her heart leaped. She opened it with trembling hands.

[*I'm sorry, Han. I can't do this. I'm leaving with Chloe. I know I'm a coward, but it's better that you know now than later.*]

That was all.

Hannah read the sentence once. Twice. Three times. The words made no sense.

Chloe? The ex whom Ethan said was long gone? The one who supposedly lived in another city?

Her knees gave way. She leaned against the stone wall of the church and slowly slid down.

No. Why would Ethan do this? He had promised—to her, to her mother.

But now? How could he be cruel enough to do this?

Hannah shook her head slowly, her eyes burning red and hot.

If she walked out and announced that the wedding was canceled, the news would reach the hospital before the evening. Neighbors, coworkers, any of the guests—anyone could call Eleanor. And her mother's heart…

She didn't want to think about what would happen next.

"Hannah."

Mia was already standing at the threshold. Her eyes were red. "People are starting to ask questions. We have to say something."

"Give me ten minutes." Hannah closed her eyes, trying to soothe the turmoil in her chest.

"Han…"

"Ten minutes, Mia." Hannah's voice carried firm emphasis this time.

Mia nodded and left.

Hannah stood up. She straightened her dress with hands that refused to stop shaking. There was no plan. There was no way out. There was only one necessity: to walk to the altar and face everyone.

She stepped into the church sanctuary.

The whispers stopped instantly. Dozens of heads turned. On the front pews, a few colleagues lowered their heads to avoid her gaze.

Hannah walked down the center aisle, slowly, with her back straight—just as she had done over the past five years whenever facing the most difficult meetings.

Reaching the front of the altar, she turned around.

"Thank you all for coming," Hannah said. Her voice nearly broke. "I…"

She couldn't continue.

The pastor looked at her with pity. No one dared to speak.

Then came the sound of a pew shifting.

The steady footsteps of leather shoes. One, two, three.

Hannah raised her head.

Lucas Ashford was walking down the center aisle. His black suit was immaculate, his shirt unwrinkled, his face calm—just as he looked whenever he stepped into the board of directors meeting.

Lucas Ashford, Hannah's boss. The CEO of Ashford Group. The man whom Hannah had accompanied every single day for five years, and whom she had never once seen lose control.

Lucas stepped up to the altar and stood beside her.

"This wedding will still take place," Lucas said.

His voice was not loud, yet it filled the entire church.

Hannah turned to him in shock. "Mr. Lucas?"

Lucas didn't look at her. He looked at the guests. "I will be the one marrying Hannah Brooks."