3

Chloe Bishop pinched the tiny scrap of black lace between her fingers, looking deeply skeptical. "Can this thing even be worn?"

Wouldn't it be simpler and more efficient to just skip straight to the main event?

Gwen Grayson rolled her eyes at her. "What do you know? Men love that teasing glimpse of skin. It's called marital chemistry."

Gwen Grayson smiled gently. "Just trust us on this one."

"Really?"

Chloe Bishop stared at the flimsy fabric in her hand, a blush creeping across her cheeks as images flickered through her mind.

Tonight, she would become Liam Martin's wife.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from downstairs.

"Let me go check."

Gwen Grayson said and walked out to the balcony.

Moments later, she came back in, her expression heavy. "Chloe... Liam Martin left."

The color drained from Chloe Bishop's face in an instant. Not even her makeup could hide the paleness beneath.

That dream... was coming true?

"The wedding is cancelled."

Those four words from Liam Martin landed like a bomb in the Bishop household, catching everyone off guard. It took them a long moment to process what they'd just heard.

The groom had run out on the wedding!

The groom had run out on the wedding!

By the time the guests snapped out of their shock, Charles Bishop had already sprinted out the gate and thrown himself in front of the lead wedding car, which was already starting to pull away.

The car was a convertible supercar—everything inside was visible.

Liam Martin stared coldly at Charles Bishop and said with finality, "The wedding is cancelled. All previous promises are void."

"What did you say?"

Charles Bishop's face went deathly pale.

Liam Martin's lips curved into a faint smile, but it was laced with bitterness. "You should have seen this coming the moment you imprisoned Sara Jay. Isn't that right?"

Panic flickered in Charles Bishop's eyes. The thing he had feared most had happened.

Three months ago, Marcus Martin—cornered by Liam Martin—had brought Sara Jay to Charles Bishop and begged him to help escape New York City. That was when Charles Bishop first learned of her existence.

To be fair, Sara Jay's beauty wasn't particularly striking, not even comparable to Chloe Bishop's.

But there was something about her—a quality that made men instinctively want to protect her.

Fragile, pure, impossible not to pity.

After meeting Sara Jay, Charles Bishop feared she might disrupt Chloe Bishop and Liam Martin's relationship. So he hid her away and began pushing the wedding forward.

He had planned to come clean with Liam Martin after the ceremony. But last night, Sara Jay had disappeared, and he had no idea where she was now.

He had hoped that if the wedding went smoothly today—if they could just get through it—then he would confess everything.

But the worst had happened.

"Liam Martin, listen to me. I can explain everything. Today is your and Chloe's wedding day. Don't let your temper break her heart."

"I said the wedding is cancelled."

Liam Martin's face remained unmoved, anger flashing in his eyes. "Move."

Three full months.

Charles Bishop had held Sara captive for three whole months—and Liam Martin had known nothing. He had believed she was truly dead, and foolishly agreed to this marriage.

Now he realized: Charles Bishop had started pushing for the wedding exactly three months ago. That meant Sara had already been in his hands by then.

Did the Bishop family really take him for a fool?

Thinking of the wounds covering Sara Jay's body, Liam Martin's hatred for Charles Bishop burned even hotter.

If his men hadn't found Sara last night and arrived in time, she would have been brutalized by thugs.

How could he ever let that slide?

Charles Bishop's voice shook with desperation and anger. "Liam Martin, calm down! All our friends and family are here. Chloe is still inside waiting for you. Can you bear to make her the laughingstock of the whole city?"

"That's on you. Let me make this clear, Charles Bishop—from today on, the Bishop family means nothing to me."

From today on, the Bishop family means nothing to me.

Chloe Bishop ran out just in time to hear those words. She froze, staring blankly at the man in the sports car.

Liam Martin saw her too. They were only a few meters apart. He could see clearly—her face was almost translucent with shock.

She had always been radiant, and in her wedding finery she was more stunning than anyone. The white gown accentuated her elegance and beauty perfectly.

She had taken his breath away once again.

Liam Martin thought: if Chloe Bishop had never met him, she would have been the most beautiful, happiest bride in the world.

But now, those once-bright, shining eyes had dimmed—because of him.

For a moment, Liam Martin felt a pang of guilt. In the end, he had failed her.

But compared to Sara, Chloe Bishop was far luckier.

He pulled his gaze away and stared coldly at Charles Bishop, reversing the car a few meters. "I'll say it one last time. Move."

Charles Bishop thought of Chloe Bishop's radiant happiness just moments ago, and then looked at this cold, heartless man before him. His heart twisted in pain.

No one was going to hurt his precious daughter—least of all Liam Martin.

Charles Bishop knew better than anyone how deeply Chloe Bishop loved him.

He threw caution to the wind and roared, "Liam Martin, if you insist on leaving, then run me over!"

Liam Martin sat in the car, his face dark as he locked eyes with Charles Bishop for a long moment. Then, without warning, the car lurched forward straight at him—

"No—!"

A scream tore from Chloe Bishop's throat.

Just as everyone braced for the impact, the car swerved sharply, grazing past Charles Bishop.

Charles Bishop stumbled, then immediately chased after it. "Come back! You bastard—get back here!"

The bastard had really left. He'd abandoned Chloe here.

Chloe Bishop wanted to call out to her father to stop chasing—if Liam Martin had been ruthless enough to leave her behind, then his heart was no longer with her.

What was the point of dragging back someone whose heart had already left?

But no sound would come from her throat. She could only watch helplessly as they disappeared farther and farther into the distance.

At the intersection ahead, the car suddenly turned. A sedan came barreling straight toward them. Charles Bishop, caught off guard and exposed behind the car, had no time to dodge—his body was sent flying through the air.

"Dad—no—!"

"No...!"

"Mrs. Bishop—Mrs. Bishop! Oh god... she's bleeding so much! Hurry—call an ambulance!"

Do you know what color the sky is?

For Chloe Bishop at this moment, it was gray.

Outside the operating room.

Chloe Bishop sat in her expensive white strapless gown, trembling, like a lifeless puppet—motionless, silent, barely breathing.

The dress, once pristine white, was now stained with splotches of blood. Her skin had always been pale, but against the blood, it seemed almost paper-thin and ghostly.

The blood on her gown and skin bloomed like vivid roses, making her beauty seem fragile and almost otherworldly.

Just moments ago, her father had been rushed into the emergency room. Her mother had been wheeled into another operating room for an induced labor.

The Bishop family relatives who had come along were all seething with indignation.

But when they looked at Chloe Bishop, sitting there colorless and silent, they couldn't bring themselves to say a word.

That Liam Martin... what a cruel man...

Chloe Bishop stared blankly at her blood-stained hands. Her mind replayed the image of her father being struck—over and over, a memory she couldn't escape.

He saw it. Liam Martin clearly saw Dad get hit.

Yet his car paused for only a moment—and then drove on.

He had turned a blind eye to her father's accident and simply left them behind.

Could someone tell her what had happened?

Why did he change so suddenly? Today was supposed to be their happiest day.

Before this, they had always been so good together—never a harsh word, never a fight. Why?

Chloe Bishop remembered the dream.

Was it because of Sara Jay?

Had Sara Jay come back?

What had her father and Liam Martin been hiding from her?

Mrs. Bishop hemorrhaged heavily, but in the end, both she and the baby survived.

Charles Bishop also barely clung to life, but due to severe head trauma, he had fallen into a deep coma.

The doctors reassured them that he would improve once he woke up—but they didn't say when that would be.

Once things stabilized, Chloe Bishop saw off the relatives and gave instructions to the household staff.

Throughout it all, she appeared exceptionally calm and composed.

One of the servants returned with clean clothes for her to change into.

When she cradled the tiny new life in her arms—she who had never been one to cry—tears finally blurred her vision.

After a long moment, she set the baby down and spoke, her voice hoarse. "Please take care of them. I need to step out."

Just then, her drowsy mother stirred awake. She looked at Chloe Bishop with weak but bitter eyes. "After everything that's happened... you're still going to him?"

Chloe Bishop forced a faint smile. "Mom, don't worry. I just need an answer. I'll be back soon."

With that, she turned and left the hospital.

The moment she stepped outside, a tall, slender young man walked toward her, concern etched on his face. "Chloe."

It was Justin Taylor, Liam Martin's friend.

Chloe Bishop looked at him, her expression flat, her voice rough. "Why haven't you gone home?"

He said, "I was worried about you. Are you going to the Martin residence?"

She nodded.

"I'll take you," he offered.

She didn't refuse and got into his car.

Once inside, she pulled out her phone. From the moment everything fell apart until now, Liam Martin hadn't sent a single call or message.

She lowered her gaze for a long moment, then pressed his number.

The call connected—but after a few rings, it was cut off.

He wasn't answering. Why?

"Justin, do you know why he left today?"

She lifted her head to look at Justin Taylor.

He knew who she was asking about, but her calmness unsettled him. "I don't know. You should ask him yourself."

Chloe Bishop could clearly see her own reflection in his eyes—a lifeless face, pale as a ghost.

She turned to look out the window and said nothing more.

An hour later, at the Martin residence.

Liam Martin was having dinner with Brandon Jay and Sara Jay.

Sara Jay had woken up at noon. She still looked frail, her skin unnaturally pale—almost sickly from years of being kept from sunlight.

"Mr. Martin, Miss Bishop is here."

A servant entered and stopped beside Liam Martin.

Liam Martin ignored him and placed some food on Sara Jay's plate—all things she had loved as a child.

Sara Jay beamed, delighted like a child, yet with a woman's fragile charm that was utterly captivating.

Liam Martin's eyes softened with affection. "Eat more if you like it."

A moment later, the servant spoke again. "Mr. Martin, Miss Bishop is still waiting outside."

Liam Martin thought of what Charles Bishop had done and answered coldly, "Tell her I'm not seeing anyone."

No sooner had he spoken than Chloe Bishop strode in, with Justin Taylor following behind—two injured bodyguards in tow.

At the sight of the strangers, Sara Jay shot up in alarm, her pretty face going pale as a frightened deer.

Chloe Bishop stopped in her tracks: Sara Jay. She really was back.

Liam Martin glanced at Chloe Bishop, then rose and pulled the trembling Sara Jay into his arms, murmuring softly, "Don't be scared. They're friends of mine."

"Oh—so they're friends."

Sara Jay smiled warmly at Chloe Bishop—innocent, pure, her eyes clear and untroubled.

To Chloe Bishop, it was unbearably jarring.

After all these years with Liam Martin, this was the first time she'd ever felt such a strong threat from another woman.

Sara Jay's beauty was untouched by any trace of the mundane.

She was like the purest, most untouchable white rose that lived in every man's heart.

And the irony was—Chloe Bishop hadn't even known when she'd come back.

Had she been that terrible of a fiancée?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. We couldn't stop her."

The two bodyguards hung their heads in shame.

Liam Martin glanced at Justin Taylor, then returned his gaze to Chloe Bishop. After a few seconds of silence, he said to her, "Come with me."

His voice was as calm and gentle as ever—as if nothing had happened.

But Chloe Bishop didn't move. She raised her hand and pointed at Sara Jay. "You left because of her, didn't you?"

Perhaps taking offense at her gesture toward Sara Jay, Liam Martin's voice cooled. "Let's talk upstairs."

"Let's talk here."

Chloe Bishop stood her ground.

Liam Martin looked at her steadily. For a long time, he said nothing.

"Sara, let's go outside."

Brandon Jay led Sara Jay toward the door.

The servants and bodyguards also took their leave, and soon the living room held only Chloe Bishop and Liam Martin.

"Is she the reason you left?"

She asked again after they were gone.

"You really don't know?"

Liam Martin's eyes bore into her, and a trace of mockery crept into his voice. "Your father kept her imprisoned in the Bishop family's old estate for three months. Those scars all over her body? They're thanks to you and your family—and you're telling me you don't know who she is?"

Father imprisoned Sara Jay?

Everything was playing out exactly as in her nightmare—except Liam Martin hadn't hired anyone to assault her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never seen her before."

Chloe Bishop met his gaze honestly. Whether or not her father had actually imprisoned Sara Jay, she truly knew nothing about it. "So tell me—why would my father lock her up?"

She wasn't naive. If Liam Martin had no feelings for Sara Jay, why would her father have gone to such lengths?

Years ago, Liam Martin had told her himself—he only thought of Sara Jay as a little sister.

And yet today, he'd left her at the altar for Sara Jay's sake, throwing away six years of their relationship.

Liam Martin studied her. "You really don't know?"

Chloe Bishop let out a bitter laugh, her voice dry and strained. "As... it seems we've known each other all these years without truly understanding each other at all."

She had trusted him without question, believing she knew him best. Only today did she realize how devastatingly wrong she had been.