My Wedding He Never Knew About

I'm getting married. But Ryder, my boyfriend of seven years, has no idea.

He recently hired a new assistant, Blair, and has been swamped ever since.

The two of them are the toast of the high-society circuit, a perfect power couple frequently seen at galas and parties together.

To celebrate a major project Blair landed, Ryder booked an entire restaurant for a celebratory dinner.

During the dinner, Blair intentionally swapped my lemonade for a strong cocktail. Unaware, I took a large sip.

Ryder just watched, smiling playfully as he asked, “How is it, baby? How does it taste?”

He forgot. He forgot that I have a deadly alcohol allergy.

My throat swelled shut faster than I could have imagined. As I collapsed, the only sounds were my own gasps for air and a porcelain plate shattering on the floor.

That night, I lay in the family's private medical wing.

When I opened my eyes, the oxygen mask was still pressed to my face. I nodded at my mother, the Donna of the Ricci family.

The arranged marriage. I agreed to it.

...

My mother has always been decisive.

I had just returned to the villa from the medical center and was pressing my hand to the fingerprint lock on the door when my phone started vibrating.

A dozen wedding proposals, one after another, with exquisite photos and detailed notes.

I swiped my thumb across the screen and answered my mother's call.

"Mamma knew a long time ago that Ryder wasn't the one for you. A man who truly wants to marry you doesn't make you wait seven years without a ring. It's not too late to walk away. Everything for the wedding is already in place."

"It's in three days. Take your time packing. No need to rush."

So, in everyone else's eyes, it had always been crystal clear.

And for seven years, I had believed his empty promises, letting him string me along.

"Mamma, you choose. I don't have a preference. Just keep the ceremony simple."

I heard footsteps behind me. Ryder had appeared at some point, and at the word "wedding," his voice turned sharp.

"A wedding? What wedding?"

He reached for my screen, but I slapped my phone face-down on the marble countertop.

He was about to grab for it again, but then his own phone rang.

The villa was so quiet I could make out the woman's voice on the other end of the line.

Blair's frantic, trembling voice came through the phone. "Ryder, help me... My competitors found my address. They sent a threatening letter. I'm so scared."

Ryder's expression changed instantly, his brow furrowed.

"Blair, don't panic. Stay home, don't go out for any reason. I'm on my way."

With the call ended, all thoughts of the wedding seemed to vanish from his mind.

Once again, he didn't hesitate to leave me standing there alone, turning and rushing out into the night.

I watched him go, my own expression unchanged.

After he left, I called my aunt, Zia.

My parents had returned to our family home in Lanze ten years ago to manage the family business.

Since then, my aunt Zia had taken me in, marrying and moving to Star City. Ryder happened to live next door to her, and that's how we met.

Later, my aunt remarried and moved to Blue Island, selling the old house. I didn't want to intrude on her new life, so I moved in with Ryder.

And I stayed for seven years.

When my aunt heard I was going home to get married, she gasped.

"Married? To Ryder? Well, it's about time! Seven years, he ought to make it official."

I pressed my lips together lightly, not letting her guess any further.

"Zia, it's not him. It's an arranged marriage, set up by the family. I've never met the man."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

"...Olivia, are you sure about this? I thought Ryder was sincere about you, I just don't know why he's been dragging his feet on marrying you. Should I go talk to him?"

I let out a faint laugh that even I found hollow.

"There's no need. To be precise, we were never even officially together. He never officially asked me out."

"At best, we were in a gray area for seven years. If I let it drag on any longer, I'd be wasting a decade on him."

My aunt couldn't believe we had lived together for so long without being official.

She finally stopped trying to persuade me, saying only that no matter what I decided, she would be on my side.

Before hanging up, I created a new three-day countdown on my phone's widget.

The numbers began to tick down.

The next day, I had my mother arrange for a shipment of local specialties and a case of my father's treasured red wine to be flown in from the Lanze estate.

It was a thank-you to my aunt for her ten years of care, and also a farewell.

That evening, a delivery truck bearing our family's crest finally arrived.

I followed the truck, pointing the driver toward my aunt's apartment building. I never expected to run into Ryder downstairs.