Chapter 1

Devin's Pov

This was it. The big day.

Her beauty struck me like sunlight breaking through stained glass, scattering colors across the chapel walls. Every breath she took felt like proof of divinity, every step toward me a hymn. At that moment, I believed she was mine forever.

The priest’s voice carried like a melody, each word settling with goodwill.

“Do you, Devin Blackwell, take Stella Hale to be your lawfully wedded wife…”

The world had gone quiet around me. The faces in the pews blurred into an indistinct smear of pastel dresses and dark suits. All I could see was Stella, framed by the white flowers arching above us, her black hair pulled into an elegant twist, her eyes bright with expectation. She looked perfect. 

‘This feels like a dream.’

I loved her… or at least I told myself so for years, I repeated it until it sounded like the truth. She was beautiful, sharp, the kind of woman who lit up every room with her energy. She deserved someone who adored her. She deserved someone who didn’t crawl into someone else's bed the night before their wedding.

I was disgusted with myself. 

‘How could you do that to her?’ I questioned myself like that would give me any answers.

I swallowed hard, mouth dry. The deed was done. And now the only way was forward. No matter how bad I felt.

My lips moved without thought, the words spilling like a recording on loop. “I do.”

Her smile widened, her relief visible even as she dabbed at the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. My father’s gaze bore into me from the front row. The steel in his eyes left no room for hesitation. He had made it clear what was at stake. Blackwell Industries, the empire he had built… it needed his say to move to the next generation. I had no real choice. It was either marry her and be his successor. Or refuse and lose everything.

Stella’s vows had sounded like poetry. Mine were robotic, lifeless. I doubt she or anyone noticed anything was off. But to me? It was all wrong.

I tried not to look at my father again. Which was wasted effort, cause he left the second our vows were said.

With that, I kissed Stella, and my heart broke when she whispered. “I love you, Devin.”

Applause thundered around us. The flowers came in showers, the music swelled, yet I forced myself to stay rooted. This was what needed to be done.

Before long the ceremony gave way to champagne flutes and clinking glasses, the reception hall glowing with chandeliers and soft jazz. I smiled where I had to, shook hands with board members and distant cousins. All the things I had to do with my father, lord knew where.

“If it isn't the groommm.” Guests congratulated me with empty words. Every “lucky man” sounded like a mockery. Every toast felt like a rehearsal for a role I wasn’t prepared to play.

Maybe I was just self sabotaging. Maybe they really did mean well for me. But I couldn't tell the difference.

This wasn't what I wanted.

I searched for him, for the man who had orchestrated all of this, but his silver hair was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I found Stella. She stood across the room, her back to me, her laughter rising above the noise. Her gown shimmered under the chandeliers, and her shoulders shifted with the rhythm of her voice as she chatted with someone I couldn’t see.

I cut through the crowd, offering more nods, more pressing polite smiles — boy was it nauseating — all the while the same thought gnawed at me.

“You cheated on her.”

On this woman who had always been so devoted, who had stood by me while my father dictated every step of our lives.

The memory of last night pressed in, despite my best efforts to leave it behind. Whoever came up with the idea of Bachelor's parties knew just what he was doing. And I hated it even more now. The memory of the music in the club, the pulse of bass and bodies. All of it… I had told myself it was nothing more than release, a final rebellion before surrender. A one-time lapse. 

But the guilt sat heavy as I reached her side.

My hand slid onto the small of her back. She turned immediately, her smile radiant, as my lips brushed the top of her head and she purred, “Babyyyyyy.”

Her joy was real, unlike mine. I felt it in the way her hand clung to mine, in the sparkle of her eyes.

Would this be my fate for all of eternity? Would telling her be worse than keeping it a secret? All questions I asked myself but never answered.

‘You're pathetic, Devin.’

I sighed as I gestured with a tilt of my head, hoping she would take the hint, that we could slip away from the noise, from the people, from the drowning pressure of everything.

She almost followed. Her weight shifted toward me, her fingers curling at my wrist. Then she stopped, her eyes widening as if she had just remembered something monumental.

“Oh my word,” she said, laughing lightly. “I don’t think I’ve introduced you. This is my brother.”

“You're kidding,” I managed. “After all this time, I get to see the infamo—”

The realization punched the air from my lungs.

My brain shut down as the stranger’s face came into view, the man she had been speaking to.

Dark hair. Eyes that seemed ordinary at first glance yet drew me in with something I couldn’t name. The lean, confident posture.

He was the stranger from last night.

Every nerve in my body froze. 

My hand, halfway extended in a polite shake, hung there suspended.

His gaze flicked to mine. What looked like recognition sparked immediately, yet his mouth curved into a smile so casual it made my pulse stutter. He claspedmy hand firmly, 

 tone smooth and playful.

“Oh, heyyy, Devin right? I’m Adrian.”