My Ex-Fiance's Cousin is My Baby's Father

On the night before her wedding, Lyra found her stepsister’s white lace underwear on her fiancé’s bedroom floor.

She stood frozen in the hallway of Vito’s private villa, still holding the small cake she had brought to surprise him.

For several painful seconds, she could only stare.

She had gone shopping with Ruth when her stepsister bought that exact piece. Ruth had even laughed and said she was saving it for someone special.

Lyra’s fingers tightened around the cake box.

Why was it outside Vito’s bedroom?

A pair of white high heels lay near the stairs. Lyra recognized those too. She had given them to Ruth for her birthday.

Beside the shoes were the red blazer and white dress her stepsister had worn at the wedding rehearsal that afternoon.

Lyra’s heart began to pound.

This could not be what it looked like.

Ruth was her stepsister, her closest friend, and her maid of honor. She was supposed to stand beside Lyra when she married Vito tomorrow.

She would never betray her.

Neither would Vito.

Only a few hours earlier, Ruth had helped Lyra into her wedding dress at the bridal boutique.

“You look like a princess,” Ruth had said, smiling at Lyra’s reflection.

Lyra had laughed nervously as she smoothed the lace over her waist. “Tomorrow, I’ll finally become Mrs. Vito Salcedo.”

“And you’ll have the perfect life you always wanted.”

Ruth had hugged her from behind.

“You deserve to be happy, Lyra.”

Lyra had believed every word.

Their parents had married when they were children, but Lyra had never treated Ruth like a stepsister. They had shared a bedroom, clothes, secrets, and countless dreams about their future weddings.

When Vito proposed, Lyra asked Ruth to be her maid of honor before she told anyone else.

She trusted Ruth with everything.

She trusted Vito even more.

That evening, Lyra had called him from her bedroom because she could not sleep.

“Hello, my beautiful bride,” Vito had answered.

Hearing his voice made her smile. “Are you busy?”

“Not anymore.”

“Where are you?”

“At the villa. I’m making sure everything is ready for my wife.”

Her heart had filled with warmth.

“I miss you,” she admitted.

“You’ll have me for the rest of your life after tomorrow.”

“I love you, Vito.”

“I love you more.”

He had no idea she was already planning to surprise him.

Lyra had slipped out of her family’s house, stopped at the bakery where they had their first date, and bought his favorite chocolate cake. She had driven to the villa imagining his reaction when he saw her.

Instead, she had found Ruth’s clothes scattered across his home.

A woman suddenly laughed from inside the bedroom.

Lyra’s blood turned cold.

She knew that laugh.

Ruth.

Lyra slowly placed the cake on a small table before it slipped from her trembling hands.

Perhaps Ruth had come to discuss something about the wedding. Maybe there was an innocent reason for her clothes being on the floor.

Then Vito laughed with her.

“You should have seen Lyra at the fitting,” he said. “She kept staring at herself as if she were royalty.”

“Stop it,” Ruth replied between giggles. “She was excited.”

Vito changed his voice, copying Lyra’s soft tone.

“I already feel like the most beautiful bride in the world. It’s like I’m about to begin my own fairy tale.”

They burst into laughter.

Lyra pressed one hand over her mouth.

Those were the exact words she had spoken while wearing her wedding dress.

She had been happy and nervous. She had shared that precious moment with Ruth because she believed her sister would protect it.

Instead, Ruth had brought it to Vito so they could mock her together.

“She has always been childish,” Vito said. “Listening to her talk about love and fairy tales is exhausting.”

Ruth gave another soft laugh. “Then why are you marrying her?”

Silence followed.

Lyra’s chest tightened as she waited for his answer.

She wanted him to say it was because he loved her. She needed to hear that all of this was a horrible misunderstanding.

Vito finally spoke.

“Why else? I need her inheritance.”

The hallway seemed to tilt beneath Lyra’s feet.

Her inheritance?

Her late grandfather had left her shares in the family company, several properties, and a large trust fund. However, the terms of his will stated that Lyra would gain full control of everything only after she married.

Vito knew that.

He had helped her read the documents.

Was that why he had proposed?

Ruth lowered her voice. “What happens after the money becomes yours?”

“I’ll stay married to her long enough to avoid suspicion. Once I gain control of her shares, I’ll find a way to get rid of her.”

Lyra stopped breathing.

Tomorrow, she had planned to give this man her love, her future, and everything she owned.

Meanwhile, he had already decided how to throw her away.

“And what about me?” Ruth asked.

“You know you’re the woman I want.”

The bed creaked, followed by the sound of a kiss.

Lyra’s eyes burned.

She took one shaky step backward. Her heel struck the table, causing the cake box to slide toward the edge.

She caught it before it fell.

Her hands were shaking so badly that chocolate icing smeared across her fingers.

Inside the bedroom, Ruth laughed again.

Lyra looked at the closed door.

A part of her wanted to storm inside and demand answers. She wanted to throw the cake at them and destroy everything around her.

But if she confronted them now, Vito would know that she had discovered his plan.

He would have time to lie, hide evidence, and find another way to reach her inheritance.

Lyra forced herself to remain silent.

Tomorrow, hundreds of guests would gather to watch them marry.

Vito expected her to walk toward him in a white dress, unaware that her future husband and her maid of honor had been sleeping together.

He believed she was foolish enough to trust them both.

Lyra quietly placed the cake beside Ruth’s clothes.

Then she turned and ran.

Rain had begun to fall over the city. Lyra rushed out of the villa without an umbrella and climbed into her car.

She locked the doors before finally allowing herself to breathe.

The moment she did, the pain broke through.

A sob escaped her lips.

How long had they been together?

How many times had Ruth hugged her while hiding this secret?

How many times had Vito whispered that he loved her while thinking about her money?

Her phone began ringing.

Vito’s name appeared on the screen.

Lyra stared at it through her tears.

Perhaps he had found the cake.

She rejected the call.

It rang again.

She turned off the phone, started the car, and sped away from the villa.

Rain struck the windshield as she drove through the nearly empty streets. She did not know where she was going. She only knew she could not return home.

Her family would ask questions. The wedding planners would call. Her mother would panic, and her stepfather might force her to listen to Ruth’s excuses.

Lyra could not face any of them.

Not yet.

Vito’s words kept repeating in her mind.

I need her inheritance.

Once I gain control of her shares, I’ll find a way to get rid of her.

The traffic light ahead turned red, but Lyra did not notice until a horn blasted from her left.

She looked up.

Headlights rushed toward her through the rain.

Lyra slammed on the brakes and turned the steering wheel.

The other car struck the front of hers.

Metal crashed against metal. The airbag opened, throwing Lyra back against her seat.

Then everything became silent except for the rain.

Her ears rang. Her hands remained locked around the steering wheel as she struggled to understand what had happened.

The driver’s door of the black luxury sedan opened.

A tall man stepped into the rain.

His dark suit fit his broad shoulders perfectly, and his calm expression did not match the violent accident that had just occurred. Another man climbed out from the driver’s side, but the stranger raised one hand, silently ordering him to stay back.

He walked straight toward Lyra’s car.

Lyra braced herself for his anger.

The stranger opened her door and crouched beside her.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded. His voice was deep and controlled. “You could have killed yourself.”

Lyra opened her mouth, but no answer came.

Instead, she looked at the stranger and burst into tears.

His stern expression changed.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, but she was no longer sure. Her entire body felt numb.

“Look at me,” he said.

Lyra slowly raised her eyes.

“Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Can you move your hands and feet?”

She did as he asked.

The stranger studied her carefully before removing his suit jacket and placing it around her shoulders. Only then did Lyra realize she was shivering.

“I’m calling an ambulance,” he said.

“No.”

The word escaped too quickly.

His eyes narrowed. “You were just in an accident.”

“I’m fine. Please, I don’t want the police or an ambulance.”

She did not want anyone calling her family. If the accident became public, Vito would find her before she had time to think.

The stranger watched her for a long moment.

“You’re running from someone.”

It was not a question.

Lyra looked away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He did not pressure her.

“Your car can’t be driven,” he said. “My security team will handle it.”

“Security team?”

The stranger ignored her question and glanced at the man waiting beside the damaged sedan.

One quiet instruction from him sent the man into action. He immediately made several calls and began taking photographs of both vehicles.

Whoever this stranger was, people obeyed him without hesitation.

“Do you have somewhere safe to go?” he asked.

Lyra thought of her family’s house, the villa, and the hotel where Ruth had reserved a bridal suite for her.

Every place connected her to the two people who had betrayed her.

“No.”

“Then come with me.”

Lyra tensed.

The stranger noticed immediately.

“I won’t force you,” he added. “You can wait in the car while my people arrange another ride. You decide where you want to go.”

You decide.

After a night of discovering that everyone had secretly planned her future, those two words affected her more than they should have.

Lyra looked at the damaged road, the pouring rain, and the stranger’s calm face.

“All right,” she whispered.

A second black car arrived minutes later.

Lyra sat beside the stranger in the back seat while the city lights blurred beyond the rain-covered windows. Neither of them spoke.

She tried to stop crying, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ruth’s clothes on the floor and heard Vito laughing.

The stranger handed her a clean handkerchief.

“Breathe slowly,” he said.

He did not ask for her name. He did not demand to know what had happened. He simply remained beside her, allowing the silence to settle between them.

For some reason, that silence felt safer than every promise Vito had ever made.

The car eventually entered the underground parking area of the most exclusive hotel in the city.

Lyra looked at the private elevators. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere no one will disturb you.”

The elevator carried them directly to the top floor.

When its doors opened, Lyra found herself inside an enormous penthouse overlooking the city. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the storm outside, while warm lights filled the quiet living room.

“Is this hotel yours?” she asked.

The stranger removed his wet tie. “Part of it.”

Lyra stared at him.

His answer should have frightened her. Instead, his quiet confidence made her curious.

He poured her a glass of water and placed it on the table.

“Is there someone I should call?”

Tomorrow, the answer should have been Vito.

Now, she never wanted to hear his voice again.

“No.”

“What about your family?”

Lyra tightened her hands around the glass. “Not tonight.”

He nodded. “Then no one will be called.”

No questions. No judgment. No hidden demand.

Lyra studied him more closely. He was handsome, but there was something intimidating beneath his calm manner. His expensive clothes and the way his staff obeyed him made it clear that he was a man of great wealth and influence.

Yet he had stood in the rain, covered her with his jacket, and helped her without knowing anything about her.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

His dark eyes held hers.

“Because you looked like you had nowhere else to go.”

Her throat tightened.

He showed her to a guest bedroom, but he stopped outside the doorway.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said. “The door locks from the inside. I won’t enter unless you ask me to.”

Lyra looked into the elegant room before turning back to him.

“Can you stay nearby?”

Something changed in his eyes, but he did not move closer.

“I’ll be in the living room.”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be.”

His answer was firm enough to feel like a promise.

Lyra entered the bedroom, then paused before closing the door.

“I don’t even know your name.”

The stranger looked at her for a moment.

“Damon.”

“Thank you, Damon.”

He gave a slight nod. “Try to sleep. Tomorrow, you can decide what happens next.”

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow should have been her wedding day.

Hundreds of guests would be waiting. Her family would expect her to walk down the aisle. Vito would stand at the altar, believing she knew nothing about his affair or his plan to steal her inheritance.

Lyra lay on the unfamiliar bed, but sleep did not come.

Vito’s cruel words continued to haunt her.

I need her inheritance.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Then she remembered Damon sitting outside.

A complete stranger had shown her more respect in one night than her fiancé had shown her throughout their entire relationship.

Lyra had entered Vito’s villa believing her future was already decided.

Now, on the eve of her wedding, she was hiding in another man’s penthouse while her fiancé waited to trap her at the altar.

Vito believed Lyra would still become his wife the next morning.

He had no idea the bride he planned to betray was about to change the wedding completely.