Chapter 4

The rain came down harder as we turned onto the expressway to JFK.

Chloe glanced at the dashboard, worried. "Aria, there's construction up ahead. We'll have to take a detour. We might be cutting it close."

"It's fine. I just have to reach the gate half an hour before takeoff."

I calmly started getting out of the wedding dress.

The zipper stuck halfway down my back. I yanked it, tearing tens of thousands of dollars' worth of couture lace with a sharp rip. I threw the cumbersome white dress onto the floor mat and changed into a black sweater and jeans, then slipped the coat back on.

My phone started buzzing nonstop in my bag.

Ethan's name flashed on the screen.

I silenced it and let it blink beside me.

Then came calls from my mother, from Tessa, from the Green family's old butler.

Each call felt like a silent summons to my own execution.

I switched on airplane mode, and the world went quiet.

The car pulled up at departures at JFK Terminal Eight.

Chloe jumped out and opened my door. "I already checked you in online and printed your boarding pass. Go, hurry!"

I took the folder and hugged her. "Thank you, Chloe."

"Text me the second you land in London." Chloe's eyes were a little red. "Aria, get away from that lunatic and go live your own life."

"I will."

I tugged my coat collar into place, put on my sunglasses, and walked into the noisy terminal.

Behind me, the big screens scrolled through flights to every corner of the world.

A clear, gentle woman's voice came over the PA. "British Airways Flight 178 to London Heathrow is now boarding. Passengers, please proceed to Gate B22..."

I moved through the crowd toward security, one step at a time.

With every step, the boulder that had been sitting on my chest for four years seemed to crack a little more.

No more catering to anyone's tastes. No more bitter, unsweetened espresso. No more waking up in the middle of the night to hear the man beside me call another woman's name.

I didn't even look back at New York's gray sky.

...

Third-person POV:

Meanwhile, at St. Patrick's Cathedral.

The organ had already played the processional three full times.

Tens of thousands of white roses surrounded the altar. The pews were packed with the most powerful figures in American business and politics, and whispers spread through them like a tide.

Ethan stood beside the priest, his back straight, but his hands kept clenching at his sides.

The doors of the church stayed shut.

The elder Mr. Green sat in the front row with his cane, his face like a thundercloud.

"What's going on?" Ethan asked his assistant, Daniel, under his breath. "Where is she?"

Sweat beaded on Daniel's forehead. He hurried up to the altar with his phone, his voice shaking. "Sir... Mrs. Green isn't in the bridal suite."

Ethan went very still. "What do you mean, she isn't in the suite?"

"Jenna said Mrs. Green went to the restroom... Then Tessa went looking for her and found the fire exit by the back door open."

With shaking hands, Daniel held out a black velvet box.

"We found this... in the trash can in the bridal suite."

The box was open. Inside was the pink diamond he'd just given her.

Ethan stared at the ring, and the blood drained from his face.

The guests grew restless. The whispers had become too loud to ignore.

"The bride ran off?"

"Somebody actually left a Green standing at the altar?"

Aria's mother rushed out of a side room, ashen-faced, and grabbed Ethan's sleeve. "Ethan! Aria's gone! Her phone's off!"

Ethan shook her off.

His eyes were fixed on the church doors, his chest heaving.

"Find her," he said, his voice low. "All of you, go find her right now!"

"Sir!" Another bodyguard came running in from outside, looking terrified. "Mr. Green! Something's happened!"

Ethan whipped around. "Did you find Aria?"

"It's not Mrs. Green!" The bodyguard was panting, his voice echoing through the cathedral. "It's Ms. Linden! Celina slit her wrist in the penthouse on Fifth Avenue! There was so much blood. The ambulance just took her!"

The whole cathedral went dead silent.

Ethan stood frozen, thunderstruck.

The bouquet he'd been holding dropped to the marble floor, and white rose petals scattered everywhere.