Chapter 3: Big audience.

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

Lyra just watched in disdain as Alex scooped Nadine into his arms like second nature. Then he turned towards the altar, addressing the priest. “The wedding's postponed.”

She tossed her bouquet aside, ripped off her veil and flung it to the floor. “No need, I'm done with you.”

“What's wrong with you?” He snapped impatiently. “Why do you always have to be so dramatic? Can't you see that Nadine is sick?”

The sharp, judgy, and pitying looks thrown in Lyra's direction made her skin prickle. Her chest tightened, her fingers curling around the hem of her dress. 

“Then take her to the hospital, I'm not stopping you.”

“Damn, you're so selfish!” Alex bit out. “I already said we'd reschedule once Nadine gets better.”

“I don't want to,” Lyra spat, before walking away.

Fiona, Alex's mother, stood. “Alex! What are you doing? Continue with the ceremony at once!”

Even Nadine, who was still in Alex’s arms, discreetly cracked open an eye to glance at the scene.

With his free hand, Alex grabbed Lyra's wrist, stopping her. His eyes sharpened. “You will stay put. Unless you want your mother's—”

“Fuck you!” The words burst from her before he could finish. Unable to hold herself any longer, she grabbed his suit jacket and slapped him hard across the face. “That’s for being a rotten jerk!”

Alex’s head snapped to the side from the impact and 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 ever agreed to be his girlfriend.

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, Fiona appeared beside Lyra and helped her stand. She glared at her son with barely restrained fury. “Are you insane?!”

“She hit me first,” he retorted and stormed out with Nadine.

Nadine smiled in his arms. 

Lyra steadied herself, one hand pressed against her stomach.

At least it was over.

She strode out of the church, ignoring Fiona’s attempts to calm her, ignoring the way the whole world closed in on her. The way the church spun. The pitying and mocking faces…

Laughing at how stupid she was… 

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

Once the wind hit her skin, tears streamed down her face, making her vision blurry.

She kept walking until the building disappeared behind her. She didn’t know where she was going. She only knew she needed to get away. Her ribs ached. Her heart pounded. Tears kept pouring, smudging her mascara. 

Then she stepped onto the highway.

A horn suddenly blared and Lyra looked up.

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. 

~ ~ ~

The soft hum of machines and the smell of antiseptic floated in the air. 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 when she remembered Alex.

She'd given him four years of her life, and he betrayed her in the most cruel way possible. 

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. He'd left the family business years ago and built Helixion Energy into an empire that now dwarfed Wilson Energy.

And despite being only eight years older than Alex, he'd always intimidated his nephew.

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 his 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. ‘He left Lyra on the altar and proposed to me. I wish Lyra would just accept that she can't keep a man.’

Something cold spread through Lyra's chest. 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 force her to marry him? 

With trembling fingers and fresh determination, she scrolled through her videos and found what she was looking for. 

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.