Chapter 2: The Bride They Mocked

CHLOE.

I had imagined Brandon taking my hand at the altar. I never imagined him standing in front of me and telling me I was too embarrassed to be his wife.

The air in the bedroom felt thick and suffocating. Every shallow breath I drew burned with the heavy scent of Sienna’s floral perfume, mixed with the sharp, metallic sting of a world ending in a single second.

My hands shook violently. I clamped my fingers into fists, digging my nails into my palms until the sharp pain anchored me to the floor.

"Four years, Brandon..." My voice came out thin, almost unrecognizable, catching in my throat like broken glass. "Four years. I... I turned down Chicago for you... I..I ran your father's events when you couldn't even get out of bed. I sat up with you…"

"Chloe, don't…"

“Through every single panic attack!" My chest heaved, hot tears finally spilling over and scalding my cheeks. "I stood right there when your family tried to push you off the board! When everyone called you a spoiled heir who didn't deserve his own name, I was the one who…"

Brandon didn't move. No guilt softened his eyes. He just stood there, bare-chested, casually pulling his belt tight with slow, methodical precision.

“And I appreciated that," he finally said. His voice wasn't angry; it was terribly, utterly flat. “I did. You were a good friend, Chloe. You were loyal. But... loyalty isn't enough in marriage…And marriage is a lifetime decision…”

“A friend?" The word tore out of me like a gasp. “A friend? Brandon, we picked out bed samples last week. We talked about... about names for kids. Was any of that... were you just pretending… all this was a cheap lie?”

"I tried, okay?" Brandon snapped, his hands flying up as he took a sharp step toward me. "God, Chloe, every time I looked at you planning that... that white-picket-fence life, I felt like I was choking!”

He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as they swept over me from head to toe, lingering on the heavy knit of my clothes.

"I mean... look at you right now. You're frantic. You're hiding in that sweater like..." He exhaled, turning his head away. "It's like a tent, Chloe… like twice your size…”

My breath caught. The words hit me hard like a truck, I covered my ears with my hands as if it would save me from him. "Brandon, please... don't. Just... don't do this."

"Why shouldn't he?"

Sienna stepped out from behind him, her satin robe whispering softly against her skin. She moved with an effortless grace, stopping right beside him. She rested her chin on his bare shoulder, casting a slow, measured glance over my trembling frame.

“Look at us, big sis," Sienna murmured, her voice dropping into a soft, poisonously sweet rhythm. "Just... look at me, and then look at yourself in the mirror… Brandon has to go to galas. Press conferences. Board dinners."

Her nails dragged lightly across the skin of Brandon's chest. He didn't pull away. He just leaned into her touch, his posture relaxing against hers.

"He needs someone who... fits," Sienna added, her dark eyes gleaming. "Not someone who looks like a charitable contribution… Not someone who breathes heavily while walking or dressing.”

The words cut straight into the rawest, quietest places I had spent years trying to protect. I stared at Brandon, waiting. I waited for the man who used to slide his arm around my waist and whisper that he loved every inch of my body to tell her to shut her mouth.

He didn't even blink. He didn't shift away. He just stood there, letting her dissect my dignity piece by piece, confirming every quiet word with his silence.

That absolute silence destroyed whatever was left of my heart.

The protection he had offered me all those years hadn't come from love. It had come from pride. He had enjoyed playing the generous savior, protecting the insecure girl—right up until the moment he decided that having her on his arm cost him too much status.

“Did you... ever love me?" The question sounded small, hollowed out by grief. "Even at the beginning? Or was I just... convenient?"

“Enough now!” he spat.

“Did you ever?” My voice was firm this time. “Did you?”

Brandon let out a long, heavy sigh, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck as if I were a boring errand he was forced to wrap up.

“Fine, I cared about you, okay? Of course I did," he muttered, looking anywhere but at my face. "It's just... You made it to deceive you... You fell in love easily…You never asked for anything... You were just... always there.”

He finally looked at me, and the emotion in his eyes wasn't hatred. It was pity.

"You had to know this was coming, Chloe," Brandon continued, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Eventually, I was going to need... someone like Sienna…Someone who actually takes care of herself…Someone who looks right next to me. Someone I could show off…”

"I took care of you, bloody bastard!" A raw sob burst from my chest, shaking my entire frame. "I loved you when you had nothing to offer except promises! I gave you every single piece of myself! I gave you my virginity when you were drugged! I saved you from marrying that bitch heiress!”

"And look where that got you," Sienna smirked, tightening her arms around his waist. "You played house, Chloe. Let a real woman handle it now."

“Look, Chloe,” Brandon said. “If you want, we can keep this relationship as it is…I will marry out of humanity, but Sienna will always be by my side. I'm gonna give you everything except for sex… And taking you out…”

My fingers tighten at my side. It felt like my whole world had collapsed.

“Why cheat on me if you could just leave?” I couldn't stop sobbing. “Why lie to me when I gave you my heart, my trust, and my everything? If you are not happy from the beginning you could have just walked away.”

I moved closer to them enough that I could smell the scent of sex radiating from their bodies.

“Destroying someone just because you didn't have the courage to be honest is called cowardice… selfish… arrogant… shame on you, coward… Shame on you spoiled brat… in fact, I hate cowards like you.”

“I am not a coward,” Brandon slammed his hand on the nearest wall.

“Yes, you are… That’s what you are!” I shouted back.

The ringing in my ears slowly faded into a cold, heavy quiet. The shaking in my hands had stopped. The suffocating pressure in my throat didn't vanish, but beneath the agonizing ache of betrayal, something solid and unyielding took hold. I looked at Brandon—really looked at him. The illusion peeled away, leaving behind a weak, insecure boy hiding behind his father's immense wealth and power. A man who needed a woman to fit a precise physical standard just so he could feel whole in front of his peers.

I glanced down at my left hand. The two-carat diamond sat heavy and ice-cold against my skin. He had slid it onto my finger on a moonlit beach, swearing it represented a promise that would last forever.

It wasn't a promise. It was a mark of ownership.

To stand here and beg him to see me, to beg him to stay, meant agreeing to his terms. It meant accepting that my value as a woman was dictated by a dress size and a coward's fragile pride. I hooked my thumb under the cold band and yanked it off my skin in one swift, violent motion.

Brandon's brows pulled together. "What the hell are you up to…”

I didn't give him the rest of the sentence. With every ounce of pain, fury, and shattered devotion boiling in my veins, I whipped my arm back and hurled the heavy diamond straight at his face.

PAH!

The sharp platinum edge struck Brandon hard across his left cheekbone.

"Ow! What the hell…!" Brandon gasped, stumbling backward as the ring sliced a thin red line across his skin before clattering sharply against the floorboards.

Sienna let out a startled shriek, jumping back as the diamond bounced off the nightstand and rolled to a stop near her feet.

Brandon clapped a hand over his cheek, staring at me in absolute, wide-eyed shock as blood slowly welled beneath his fingers.

The arrogant, dismissive sneer was completely wiped from his face.

He had expected me to collapse. He had expected me to break down on his floor and plead for a second chance. He had expected me to accept whatever scraps of dignity he left behind.

He had never imagined I would strike back.

“Keep the useless ring, asshole,” I said, my voice dropping into a quiet, icy register that didn’t tremble once. “Use it to buy yourself a spine… I’m leaving... By the time you realize what you have just done, you will come looking for me, but you won’t find me… because it will be too late then.”

I turned my back on my fiancé and my sister. I kept my head high, ignoring the tears still burning against my cheeks, and walked toward the open door with steady, deliberate steps.

At that moment I realized something; Every relationship is like a deal, if one has too many expectations in a relationship then you're bound to get hurt.

As my foot crossed the threshold, Brandon’s panicked voice sliced through the hallway, sharp and defensive.

“Chloe, you have no idea what you’re walking away from!”