2

“Have you found out who did this yet?”

Liam Martin’s usually handsome, refined face was currently shrouded in a dark, suffocating shadow. He looked cold and lethal—the literal personification of the calm before a devastating storm.

At twenty-four, Liam had spent the last six years clawing his way to the CEO's chair, reclaiming everything that had been stolen from him. He was now the most powerful young tycoon in the city. But looking at the overlapping scars—some old, some horrifyingly fresh—on Sara Jay’s body, his pride tasted like ash. He felt a mix of agonizing pity and murderous rage.

Who dared to break her like this? They were dead men walking.

His assistant kept his head bowed low, terrified to meet Liam's eyes. “Brandon is personally leading the investigation. We’ll have a name soon.”

If Chloe Bishop were here, she would realize her nightmare was manifesting into reality, piece by agonizing piece.

Liam reached out, gingerly taking Sara’s hand as if she were made of glass. His gaze lingered on her swollen face. Beyond the heartbreak, there was the sheer shock of having her back. His uncle, Marcus Martin, had told him years ago that she was dead. Yet here she was, breathing, lying right in front of him.

“Sara,” he whispered, his voice trembling with a tenderness Chloe had never experienced in all her nine years of knowing him.

Back when the car accident took his parents and half his leg, it was Sara who had stayed by him through the darkest, most suicidal nights of his life. She was the single candle in his pitch-black world. But the light had been snuffed out six months later when Marcus kidnapped her to use as leverage against Liam and Brandon.

For years, Liam’s only link to her were occasional, cryptic photos sent by his uncle. Then, at Chloe’s birthday gala years ago, she had publicly chosen him as her fiancé. Using the Bishop family’s massive influence, Liam rose like a phoenix, eventually stripping Marcus of his power.

In a fit of rage, Marcus had sent Liam a photo of Sara lying in a pool of blood with a knife wound to her chest. He told Liam she was dead. When Marcus was finally sent to prison, he swore to Liam’s face that he had killed her.

Liam’s heart had died that day. He agreed to the marriage with Chloe mostly because Charles Bishop had pressured him, and he felt he couldn't owe Chloe any more than he already did.

But now? Chloe Bishop was the last thing on his mind. He squeezed Sara's hand. "Sara, I’m never leaving you again. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

It was a vow. In his heart, no one could replace her—not even the woman who had spent six years rebuilding his life.

In the study down the hall, his staff exchanged worried glances. Today was the wedding of the century, but the groom hadn't even started getting dressed. Finally, a brave guard knocked on the door.

“Mr. Martin, the schedule... it’s time to change and leave to pick up the bride.”

Liam didn't move. He sat by the bed like a statue. It was only after a long silence that he finally stood up. "Get my suit."

An hour later, the wedding motorcade pulled up to the Bishop estate. Dozens of luxury supercars lined the street—a display of wealth and power that took the breath away. The Bishop villa was alive with laughter, music, and the smell of expensive flowers.

“They’re here! The groom is here!”

The cheers from downstairs reached the balcony. Chloe, stunning in her designer gown, ignored all royal etiquette and rushed to the railing to sneak a peek at the lead car.

“Chloe! Get back in here and sit down!” her mother’s voice scolded from inside. “It’s bad luck to be seen before the ceremony!”

“Just one look, Mom!” Chloe teased, winking as she peered over the edge.

“No!”

Seeing her mother’s stern face, Chloe giggled and retreated back into the room. Her mother tapped her forehead affectionately. "Stay put. Your father and I are going down to greet them. And girls," she looked at the bridesmaids, "when Liam comes up, lock the door. Don't let him in until the clock strikes the auspicious hour, you hear me?"

Chloe’s eyes danced with joy. Ever since she saw that boy in white years ago, no other man had ever existed to her. She had waited years; she could wait another thirty minutes.

As the festive fireworks crackled outside, Chloe looked at her reflection and beamed. “Liam... I’m finally becoming your wife.”

Down at the gates, Liam stepped out of the Rolls-Royce. In his white tailored tuxedo, he looked like a god. His presence was so commanding that people completely forgot about his slight limp. He began walking toward the house, flanked by his groomsmen, when his phone buzzed.

It was Brandon Jay. The investigation was over.

“Brandon,” Liam answered.

“We found the person behind Sara’s kidnapping,” Brandon’s voice was darker than usual, dripping with a lethal edge.

“Who is it?” Liam asked.

Directly in front of him, Charles Bishop and his wife were walking toward him with wide, welcoming smiles. To them, Liam was the perfect son-in-law.

“It’s Charles Bishop,” Brandon said firmly. “Sara was being held at the old Bishop estate this entire time. Charles was the one who hid her away.”

Liam’s pupils constricted. The warmth in his eyes died instantly, replaced by a frost so cold it could shatter bone.

“Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

Liam lowered his hand, his phone dropping to his side. He looked at the smiling couple approaching him and felt a surge of sickening irony. Any lingering guilt he felt about the plan he’d set in motion vanished.

He had planned to explain things to Chloe personally, but now? He didn't want to say a word. She must have known. She must have watched her father torture Sara while she played the "perfect fiancée."

Chloe... I really underestimated how cruel you could be.

Upstairs, Chloe was blissfully unaware, laughing with her bridesmaids as they took selfies. One of her best friends, Bella, handed her a small, beautifully wrapped box.

“Chloe, this is a special gift from us. Your mom was here earlier so I couldn't give it to you. Open it!”

“What is it? Why so mysterious?” Chloe opened the box and blinked. “What... what on earth is this?”

It was a set of incredibly provocative, sheer black lace lingerie.

Bella gave her a wicked grin. “It’s for the wedding night, girl! We want to make sure Liam never wants to leave the bedroom.”