Chapter9
Impossible.
Adrian immediately tapped on the news alert, but the article only featured a single blurry photo–clearly
taken from a distance.
He couldn’t make out the man’s face, but Eveline, standing beside him, was unmistakable.
In the photo, she had her arm linked with the man’s. She wasn’t wearing the cathedral–length gown she
had tried on days ago, but something simpler–elegant and understated. The man next to her had clearly coordinated his style to match hers. Side by side, they looked perfect together.
Who was that man?
Adrian’s mind spun in disbelief and rage. He jumped to his feet, about to call Eveline and demand answers, when his finger hovered just above the dial pad.
What right did he have to question her?
He was the one who had betrayed her first.
And even if she did pick up… what would he say? That he missed the wedding because he’d been busy
staging his own death?
The authorities hadn’t confirmed the identity of the “remains” found in the crashed jet, but with the
arrangements he had made, the news would go public by tomorrow morning at the latest. Once that
happened, his intentions would be impossible to hide.
Adrian sank back into the sofa, drained.
He couldn’t bring himself to imagine the look of disappointment on Eveline’s face–or her voice, asking
him how he could throw away seven years like it meant nothing.
Suddenly, he thought of the friends who had attended the wedding.
A sliver of hope sparked in his chest. He opened their group chat–but not a single message had been
sent.
What the hell?
Confused and growing anxious, he was about to call someone when Maria’s fragile voice drifted down the
stairs.
“Adrian, my leg hurts…”
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Snapped out of his thoughts, he hesitated, then reluctantly set his phone down and went upstairs to help
her. But his mind remained elsewhere.
The image of that man beside Eveline wouldn’t leave him. It filled him with a rage he couldn’t understand-
and a bitter sense of defeat.
Even he didn’t know what exactly he was angry about.
Wasn’t this what he wanted?
Eveline letting go. Him and Maria, free to live their lives. No more ties. No more guilt.
And yet…
Adrian grew more restless by the minute. The moment Maria fell asleep, he went downstairs and called
Walter.
The phone rang twice before Walter picked up. Adrian hesitated, trying to sound casual.
“… How was the wedding? Is she… is she doing okay?”
Walter, the eldest in their group, saw right through him in an instant.
Adrian regretted it.
Too late, though.
Thinking of the look in Martin’s eyes–the certainty, the resolve–Walter sighed to himself.
Instead of answering, he asked in return, “Didn’t everything go exactly as you planned?”
Adrian was momentarily stunned.
Yes. Everything had gone according to plan.
But why did it feel like something was missing–like there was a hollow in his chest that no outcome could
fill?
His silence said enough.
Walter sighed again, then said, “Take my advice. If you’re going to carry out a plan like that, don’t start it… unless you’re sure you won’t regret it.”
“She’s fine, by the way. But…”
“Who was the groom?” Adrian suddenly blurted out, unable to hold back a second longer.
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She was fine?
After what he did? After missing their wedding?
How could she possibly be fine?
Unless… it was because of that man.
The thought sent a fresh surge of panic and anger through him.
Before Walter could reply, Adrian snapped, voice tight and cold: “Don’t tell me she just dragged in some stranger. My parents always saw her as family–I just want to make sure she didn’t make a mistake.”
“It was your uncle,” Walter said flatly, cutting him off. “You know Martin’s character better than anyone.”
Uncle?
Martin?
Adrian froze.
Walter kept talking, but Adrian didn’t hear a word of it.
His mind was spinning with just one image: Eveline walking down the aisle, hand–in–hand with Martin.
No. It couldn’t be.
Almost no one knew about their secret seven–year relationship.
But Martin was one of the very few who did.
His uncle had known about their relationship–so how could he…?
A jolt of realization hit Adrian like ice water.
His own uncle had stolen her away, quietly, without leaving a trace.
Fury roared through his head, wiping out all reason. He slammed the call to Walter dead, then immediately
dialed Martin’s number.
Chapter9
