Elara Vance stood in the rain, her white dress clinging to her skin like a cruel reminder of what today was supposed to be.
A wedding.
Instead, it had become a funeral — for her pride, her dreams, and the love she thought would save her.
Her phone vibrated again.
Unknown Number:
Stop calling. I can't do this.
That was it.
No explanation.
No apology.
Just six words that shattered her entire world.
Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the cold pavement outside the church. Guests had long left. The flowers were wilting. The fairy tale had ended before it even began.
"Miss."
The voice was deep. Calm. Unfamiliar.
Elara looked up, rain blurring her vision — and froze.
Lucien Blackwood.
Tall. Impeccably dressed. Completely untouched by the chaos around him. His dark eyes scanned her with something unreadable — not pity, not sympathy… interest.
Her heart dropped.
"You," she whispered.
Of all the people she could meet on the worst day of her life, it had to be him.
"I didn't expect to see you like this," Lucien said coolly. "Abandoned at the altar."
Her fingers curled into fists. "Enjoying the show?"
He crouched slightly, meeting her eye level. "I'm here to make you an offer."
She laughed bitterly. "You think money fixes everything, don't you?"
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
"Because it usually does."
He handed her a black umbrella, shielding her from the rain.
"One year," he said. "Marry me. Be my wife in name only."
Her breath caught.
"I'll pay your mother's hospital bills," Lucien continued. "Every last one."
Elara's chest tightened. He knew.
He had always known.
"And after one year?" she asked softly.
"You walk away," he said. "Debt-free. Untouched. Free."
She stared at him — the man she hated, the man offering salvation at the cost of her heart.
This wasn't love.
This was survival.
And somehow… she knew saying yes would ruin her forever.