CHAPTER SIX: THIS MARRIAGE IS NOT HAPPENING LIKE THIS

The shock in the room was palpable. A wave of whispers rippled through the gathered guests as Leah stood frozen in place, her veil torn from her head by Mr. Hargrove's rough hands. She hadn't had time to hide her dismay, her eyes wide, lips parted in disbelief as the guests gasped.

Ethan's heart pounded. He blinked, staring at the woman before him, the familiarity of her face slicing through the fog in his mind like a knife. The dark waves of her hair, the way her lips trembled-he'd seen her before. His mind scrambled to connect the dots, flashes of the night they had shared breaking through the haze of the drug. The soft whispers, the scent of her skin-it was her. The woman who had been in his bed, whose body had responded to his touch in ways he couldn't forget.

But... Leah?

Ethan's eyes flicked back to Natasha, who stood poised at the other end of the room, her pristine veil still in place, her expression one of simmering anger as her attention was pulled from her own ceremony. The puzzle pieces refused to fit. This was the woman-the one whose voice, whose presence had stirred something primal in him. And yet, no one here seemed to know what had transpired. Not Natasha. Not her stepmother, Vivian, who stood beaming near the front row.

He clenched his fists at his side, forcing the revelation to remain hidden. If no one knew, then this could still be contained. But what was Leah doing here, with that vile man by her side? His eyes darkened as they settled on Mr. Hargrove, whose fingers still gripped Leah's arm too tightly.

"Let go of me," Leah hissed under her breath, her voice low but firm, as she yanked her arm free from Mr. Hargrove's grasp. She glanced around, her cheeks burning with humiliation, the shame of the night before already raw in her mind. How had she ended up here, in this nightmare? And why did that man, Ethan Blackwood, keep looking at her like he knew her?

The room continued to buzz, guests now blatantly gossiping, heads swiveling between Leah and Mr. Hargrove, who looked positively enraged at being thwarted. Leah's heart hammered in her chest, her only thought being escape.

Ethan's jaw tightened. This wasn't right. Leah didn't belong at the side of a man like Hargrove. The older man's eyes roved over her like she was a possession, something to be won and displayed. It made Ethan's stomach churn with disgust.

Natasha's voice sliced through the air, sharp and tinged with malice. "What's going on over there?" Her voice carried over the room, her composure barely holding as she eyed Leah with contempt. "This is my wedding day. Can't you control your bride?" Her words were aimed at Hargrove, but they were dripping with venom directed toward Leah.

Ethan watched as Leah's face paled, her body stiffening under the weight of her stepsister's disdain. He had to bite back the sudden surge of protectiveness that threatened to rise. Leah glanced down, trying to remain composed, but he saw the tremor in her hands, the way she seemed ready to bolt at any moment.

"This has gone on long enough," Mr. Hargrove growled, his tone low and dangerous. "I paid a hefty sum to marry you, and I expect obedience." He grabbed her wrist again, yanking her toward him with a force that made her wince.

Ethan stepped forward, his voice cutting through the air like ice. "Let her go."

The room seemed to freeze. All eyes turned to Ethan. His usually impassive face was hard, a mask of control hiding the turbulence brewing inside him. He kept his eyes locked on Hargrove, his posture stiff, his presence commanding attention.

Hargrove sneered. "And who do you think you are, Blackwood? This is none of your concern. She's mine now."

Ethan's eyes narrowed, the quiet fury in his gaze unmistakable. "That's where you're wrong." He took another step forward, his focus now shifting briefly to Leah, who stood trembling under Hargrove's grip. His voice dropped, dangerous. "She's not yours."

Leah's breath caught in her throat. The room held its collective breath, tension rolling between Ethan and Hargrove like a storm about to break. Her heart raced as she looked at Ethan, unsure of why he was stepping in. Did he know? Could he possibly remember?

"Enough!" Natasha's voice rang out, her composure finally cracking as she realized the attention was no longer on her. She stalked forward, her eyes blazing with fury. "This is absurd! Leah, if you're going to cause a scene, at least have the decency to wait until after my vows!" She spat the words, her face contorted with anger.

Leah opened her mouth to respond, but Ethan's voice interrupted her, low and commanding. "This wedding isn't happening." His eyes locked on Hargrove, his expression cold. "Not like this."

A murmur spread through the room. Natasha's eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you talking about, Ethan?" she demanded, her voice rising. "What do you mean, 'not like this'? You can't-"

"Enough," Ethan cut her off, his voice steel. He turned to the officiant, who stood frozen, unsure of how to proceed. "This marriage is over."

Mr. Hargrove's face turned an ugly shade of red. "You have no right-"

"I have every right." Ethan's eyes flicked to Leah, softening for just a fraction of a second before hardening again. "She's coming with me."

Leah's heart thundered in her chest, confusion swirling in her mind. What was Ethan doing? Why was he stepping in like this? And why did it feel like he was somehow...protecting her?

The silence in the room was deafening. All eyes were on Ethan, waiting for what he would do next. Natasha stood frozen in shock, her perfect wedding day spiraling out of control before her eyes.

Ethan extended his hand toward Leah, his expression unreadable. "Come with me."