Chapter 3: Big audience.

“Nadine?” Alex called out, worry etched on his face.

Lyra knew that this was just one of Nadine's tricks. She wondered how Alex was always so blind to it.

“Lex, please help me. I don't know what's wrong. I can't breat—” Nadine collapsed to the ground. 

Murmurs swept through the church. 

Men in suits already surrounded Nadine, helping out. Alex broke through the circle at once. He immediately crouched down beside Nadine.

Lyra just watched, lips parted, eyes stinging, fists clenched, as Alex scooped Nadine into his arms like second nature. Then he turned towards the exit.

“Alex!” Lyra called out. She raised her gown with both hands before running towards him. “Where are you going?”

“What do you think?” He snapped impatiently. “Can't you see that Nadine is sick?”

“I know,” Lyra swallowed, voice low enough so that only he could hear. “But can't you see… It's our wedding. Someone else can take her.”

“Our wedding?” He echoed. “‘Someone else can take her’? Really?”

The sharp, judgy, and pitiful eyes thrown in Lyra's direction made her skin prickle. She hoped that the ground would open and suck her in. Her chest tightened, her fingers curling around the hem of her dress. Yet everyone remained seated.

She'd been so stupid to think Alex would change.

Unable to hold on any longer, she allowed tears to stream down her cheeks. "Alex, please,” she sobbed. “People are watching. They're already talking. Please don't embarrass me again.” She held his arm, eyes begging. “Let's just go back to the altar, please. And finish the vows. He'll take her. Then we can visit her once—”

“Damn, you're so selfish!” Alex bit out and snatched his hand from Lyra. “How didn't I notice? I can't believe this is what you're thinking about at a time like this. Try thinking about others for once.”

“That's literally all I've done!” Lyra shot back.

In her desperation, she moved closer to Alex again. “If you leave now, there'll be no wedding again. Remember you asked for one last chance.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

“I'm not. Just letting you know that I'm tired of putting up with your crap.”

“Then fuck off,” he hissed. “Who wants to marry a simp like you, anyway?”

With that, he turned to the door, Nadine still in his arms.

Lyra knew it was over anyway. There's no recovering from this. So she grabbed the back of Alex's suit jacket. 

He whirled, and Lyra struck his cheek. Hard. “That's for being a rotten jerk!” she fumed. 

The crowd let out a collective gasp.

Then silence.

Before the church erupted with chattering. 

Alex clenched his jaw to numb the pain, but it still stung.

Lyra was panting, chest rising and falling with anger, cursing the moment she agreed to this circus of a marriage.

When the priest saw the glare that Alex shot Lyra, he moved forward. “Miss Davis? Mr. Wilson?” he called, trying to salvage the situation. But there was no calming this storm.

Before the priest could get any closer, Alex lashed out and kicked Lyra in the gut. She groaned in pain and stumbled backward, but the priest caught her. At that moment, Alex's mother, Fiona, appeared beside Lyra and helped her stand.

“Alex Wilson! You're being unreasonable,” she called her son out.

“She started it first,” Alex retorted and strode out with Nadine in his arms.

Lyra looked around. The whole world was closing in on her. The church was spinning. It felt like they were mocking her…

Laughing at how stupid she was… At her pain.

At how her groom had chosen Nadine over her. Again. And again. And on her wedding day, no less.

No, no. She couldn't stand it.

Fiona turned to Lyra with a sigh. “It's okay, my dear. I'll talk to him. I'll make sure the wedding is reschedul—”

No!

Everything else faded as Lyra pulled away and ran out of the church. Away from everything. From the shame… from the laughter… the mockery.

Her chest tightened as she ran. Heart pounding. Tears pouring. Mascara smudging.

Then she got to the highway. And without checking, her legs kept moving. 

It was too late when she saw the car. 

Her eyes widened with fear, a scream leaving her lips, her hands covering her face like it would somehow reduce the impact. 

The driver tried to brake. But he had already hit her. 

~ ~ ~

That soft hum of machines and smell of antiseptic in the air, again. Lyra blinked her eyes open. She took in the unfamiliar surroundings, her eyes finally landing on her torn and dirty white dress. An ugly burn climbed her throat, shame and humiliation washing over her.

She'd given Alex one last chance, and he'd dragged her through the mud. 

The door opened and that vaguely familiar scent hit her nose first— clean, expensive, masculine. Strangely calming… yet unsettling, all at once. 

A man walked in.

Not just any man… It was Tyson Wilson, Alex’s infamous uncle. Tyson was the youngest son of Alex's grandfather. And despite being only eight years older than Alex, he'd always intimidated his nephew. 

Tyson was brilliant, vindictive, and ambitious. He'd left the family business and built his own empire—Helixon Energy—from scratch, and it was now three times worth more than Wilson Energy.

Those dark intense gray eyes found hers and Lyra’s lips parted slightly with shock. “Uncle Tyson?” 

Tyson moved over to help her. He stacked the pillows behind her back to make her comfortable. “How do you feel?”

How did she feel? I mean, her body ached, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.

“What are you doing here?” She asked instead. 

“Well, you jumped in front of my moving car. Must’ve thought the Mustang was your groom. Mmmhm…" he paused thoughtfully, a small smirk gracing his lips. “They both have a similar head shape, though.”

“Sorry about that." Lyra smiled awkwardly and adjusted in bed. "I guess I'm fine now.”

“Yeah. Nothing's broken, thankfully.” He placed a hand on her head. “No fever either. I'll fetch the nurse.”

Immediately he left, Lyra reached for her phone—series of notifications, none from Alex. 

She rolled her eyes. Not like she was expecting anything anyway. 

Quickly, she found Alex’s number and then hit the block and delete button.

She was about to do the same for Nadine when her phone beeped with a new message from Nadine—a picture of Nadine's finger with a diamond ring sitting pretty. The caption read. ‘Alex proposed. I wish Lyra would just accept that she can't bag a man.’

Lyra’s stomach dropped. Then a few seconds later, the message was deleted, replaced by 'Sorry, wrong DM.’

Nahh… That was intentional. Typical Nadine. If Alex were already planning to propose to Nadine, why lie to her? 

He'd have just allowed her to count her losses and move on. After all, whatever remaining feelings she had for him died completely that night. 

Guess he really wanted a grand humiliation.

With trembling fingers, Lyra scrolled through her videos and found what she was looking for. Out of all the stupid things that she'd done for Alex, publicly apologizing about what she'd said that night infuriated her the most. She'd admitted to lying about what she'd said, her excuse being that she was angry about Alex making Nadine director. Of course, the Internet was pissed, and the backlash was crazy. She'd been called all sorts of names. 

But it was worth it. Or so she’d thought. Because she thought it meant marrying Alex and being director. Getting her own research team. And completing her mother's lifework. Making her mother proud.

God, she was so stupid.

Anyway, since that's all in the past… She opened a new email with the account she'd created last week for this exact reason.

Subject: Corporate misconduct proof.

Message: The public deserves to know why Nadine was promoted. Turns out Lyra wasn't a ‘lying jealous bitch’ after all.

Then she deleted the last sentence before attaching Alex and Nadine's sex tape. Better to keep the message short. 

After pasting the email address list she'd gathered—entertainment blogs, corporate gossip outlets, and investigative journalists. Ten recipients in total—she hit 'send.'

Nadine had wanted her to watch. Might as well give her a big audience.