It was her wedding.
Her wedding day.
And she was marrying a man she had never met before.
A cold chill ran down her spine, even though it was a hot summer Saturday morning, perfect for a wedding—her wedding.
In twelve—maybe fifteen steps, it would be over. Samantha Jones would no longer exist. She would be Mrs. Samantha Rice.
Steady breaths.
Her gaze swept over the guests. Bright smiles. Happy people. Perfectly tailored suits. To the left, her father's guests, and to her right, James Rice's, her fiancé's father's guests. They all scream old money. Everyone looked expensive.
She was the only thing that didn't belong here.
DAN DAN DANDAAAAA-
The live band swelled, and the iconic wedding march thundered through the venue. The music slammed into her heart like a bomb countdown.
Her feet refused to move.
The silver Louis Vuitton heels dug into the grass. Her feet refused to move. Just one more step, and she would be on the white satin leading down the aisle. One step, and she'd be walking toward a future with a stranger.
Her breath hitched.
She was about to vow herself in front of God and man to give body, soul, and life to a stranger.
She shuddered.
Her fiancé was Dave Rice. Playboy. Party animal. Billionaire's son. Popularly, infamously known as THE TROUBLEMAKER!
Her worst nightmare.
¡SÍ SÍ SÍ!!!
Someone was hissing... no, someone was calling her.
Samantha's head turned away from the seated guests and looked to her side.
Jesse.
Her eccentric wedding planner looked as pale as death. He waved wildly, eyes darting and pointing behind her. The man was terrified.
Then she heard it.
The sharp, endless clicks of cameras. FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!!!
Samantha bit her lips to stop the shudder threatening to escape. She had drowned out all the noise before, but now, the sound was deafening.
Move, dammit! Jesse mouthed. Waving and jumping frantically.
Realization slammed into her.
My face... I looked scared, and the photographers were capturing it—
Everyone could see her hesitation, her wide eyes, her fear.
This would be a scandal. A bride who didn't want to marry. A million-dollar story in the making.
Samantha panicked just thinking about the consequences of the headlines. His hands clenched around her bouquet.
Smile.
She forced a smile on her lips. A perfectly polished, FAKE smile.
Jesse didn't look convinced. His hands were clasped together in prayer. Samantha could understand him. If this wedding got screwed up for any reason, he would be in trouble.
This wasn't just a wedding. It was THE WEDDING—the wedding of the century.
So, that meant Jesse would be screwed because no one would want to hire the planner behind The Rice & Jones Wedding Disaster.
They'd call him Bad Luck Jesse.
They'd be wrong.
I'm the bad luck.
She tore her gaze from him and took a step. Deep breaths. Her legs screamed in protest, but she forced them forward. Each step was hellish.
THE AVALON HOTEL'S outdoor space had been transformed into something magical—something breathtaking.
A dreamscape of green, white, and gold. Drapes with all three colors cascaded from a wooden canopy. Flowers with the same colors filled the venue with artistic precision and perfection.
Samantha barely noticed any of it.
Thirteen times five... That's five times three--fifteen. Carry one... Five times one--five. Five plus one... Six. Thirteen times five is sixty-five. Thirteen times six...
She ran multiplication tables in her mind. It helped her force her mind away...far away from here.
A silent prayer formed on her lips.
God, devil, angel, universe, whoever's listening! She pleaded silently. Please stop this from happening. Please save me from marrying a total stranger. Please, save me.
A hand slipped under her arm.
A gasp caught in her throat.
Someone had come.
An angel. A savior.
Her heart leaped—until she turned her head.
No.
No angel. No miracle.
Only her father.
Frederick Jones. Tycoon. Forbes legend. The man who put her in this mess.
"You didn't think I'd let you walk down the aisle alone, did you?"
Yes.I did. I hoped and prayed, too. I hoped you wouldn't make it.
"Dad." The word felt like gravel in her throat.
She freed her hand from his and adjusted his black tie. His tie was always crooked, and she'd always fixed it. He smiled thankfully.
"I am sorry I was late. I was locked in my room and couldn't find the key."
I took the key. I locked you in. "Sorry to hear that," Samantha said, forcing a worried gaze.
"I am so glad I didn't miss this. I wouldn't have forgiven myself," Frederick laughed.
She hated his smile. It was too bright. Too happy. As if he wasn't selling her off.
Frederick hugged her tightly.
"Awwn," everyone cheered.
Cameras flashed. Father and daughter, a perfect picture of love.
"Put a smile on your face. Today is your wedding day."
Her stomach churned.
"Are you crying?" He pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing gently at her face.
Her voice wavered. "I--can't help it. The tears won't stop."
He chuckled. "You can do anything you want today. It's all about you."
"Can I really?"
"Y-yes."
Something flickered in his eyes. Fear.
He was lying.
"Are you ready? Let's get you married before it gets too late."
"Of course." Her voice was a whisper.
Hand in hand. They walked. Step. By step. By step.
DUM... DUM... DUM...
Samantha's heartbeat pounded in her ears.
The podium loomed. Her future loomed.
A gentle breeze brushed her face, stirring an old memory. The memory of a man—another man, not the man she was getting married to.
She remembered his dark voice in her ear, whispering, claiming her—marking her. Absentminded, she bit her lips.
Sam, Snap out of it! What the hell am I thinking of? At this moment? Sam, you are about to marry someone else. Forget everything. Forget it all.
Her heart ached, but she closed her eyes and shut out the memory. She had to do this. Lives were at stake. Many things were at stake.
DUM... DUM... DUM...
Her heart beat faster...FASTER... The podium loomed...
Samantha swallowed hard, whimpering.
And then--
"Wait. Stop!"
A hush fell over the wedding.
Samantha's breath caught.
Her fingers clenched. Her heart pounded.
Eyes wide, she turned.
Had someone—had God answered her prayers?