After I Fled Our Wedding, the Don Begged for One Look

The dinner table fell silent for a moment.

Then everyone burst out laughing, as if I'd told a joke.

Vivian laughed so hard she leaned on Adrian's shoulder.

"See? Ivy's mad."

She made a show of reaching for the clasp, but her fingers had barely touched it when Adrian put his hand over hers.

"When have I ever taken back a gift?"

He studied the stone at her throat. "Besides, it suits you better."

Only then did he turn to me. "I'll take you to pick out another one. It won't hold up the wedding, okay?"

"No." My throat tightened. It was the first time I'd ever said no to their faces.

My father rapped his cane once on the floor. The bodyguards by the door dropped their eyes, and nobody laughed anymore.

Everyone in the Moretti family knew my father didn't like being defied in front of people.

The three of us went to the same private school in New York, from elementary school all the way through high school.

I had feelings for Adrian, but his eyes always followed my sister.

After college, Vivian moved to Los Angeles and got famous playing a supporting role in a streaming series.

Just as rumors about her and an actor were everywhere, Adrian suddenly showed up at our house.

In front of my parents, he confessed his feelings for me and said he wanted to start a family with me.

He looked so serious that I really believed he'd chosen me.

My father was pleased too.

Our two families were about to merge their port businesses, and this marriage reassured him more than any contract could.

The night they discussed our engagement, I sat off to the side and listened to my father and Adrian clink glasses. I was too happy to wonder why they talked all night without ever asking if I wanted this.

Later, I found out he really had been set on marrying me.

But while he wanted to marry me, my sister had always been the one he loved.

I stared at the emerald at my sister's throat.

"That's the only one I want. Why doesn't it suit me?"

Adrian patted my head as if I were a child who didn't know any better.

"Silly Ivy. Vivian's like a swan. She was born to wear jewelry that dazzles. You've always been low-key. Something simple suits you better."

Suits. That word again.

He's only marrying me because I suit him.

The emerald still glittered under the lights, but suddenly it seemed just like Adrian, not worth wanting anymore.

"You don't need to pick out another one. I told you, I'm not getting married."

Adrian was clearly caught off guard.

He blinked, then laughed.

"Not getting married? Where would you even go? Are you going to run away like a bride in a movie?"

Everyone laughed again. Everyone but me.

My mother flipped open the wedding planning binder without looking up.

"Adrian already said he'd make it up to you. What are you still fussing about? You're not your sister."

Of course I'm not my sister.

We were twins, but she'd always been the taller, prettier one, the one who learned everything faster.

I was half a head shorter and always one step behind.

In their eyes, my sister deserved to be the favorite, and she'd earned the right to be spoiled.

Marrying Adrian had already used up all my luck. Who was I to be picky?

They quickly gathered around the binder as if the argument had never happened.

When they got to the wedding decorations, Adrian leaned right past me to ask my sister.

"Vivian, you've always had better taste than Ivy. Which one do you like best?"

My sister leaned back on the couch, practically pressed against his shoulder.

"How about this constellation theme?"

My parents couldn't stop praising her taste.

I sat a few feet away, like a guest who'd wandered into someone else's wedding.

The edge of a holster peeked out at Adrian's hip. But when he brushed my sister's hair out of her face, he was so gentle he looked like a different man.

My phone buzzed with two texts from my editor, Emma Clarke.

"Your picture books are in the top ten on several bookstore bestseller lists."

"Last quarter's royalties should have hit your account. Take a look."

My latest royalty payment of more than a hundred thousand dollars had just landed in my account, so I opened a travel booking site.

First class.

Destination: Costa Rica.

Departure: the night before the wedding.

Once I'd booked my escape, the weight on my chest finally lifted.

I put my passport in my suitcase, double-checked the flight, and locked my screen.

For the rest of my life, I wasn't going to step aside for anyone ever again.