Chapter 3

It was no wonder Ariana was capable of something so twisted. She had dug up her own mother's grave just to frame me. As it turned out, her mother's death had been nothing more than a lie.

I sent a message to Micah. "Ariana's mother isn't dead. The truth is in the email I just sent you."

Whether he opened it or not was no longer my concern. The flight was booked for three days later. Elijah handled the arrangements personally.

When Micah finally returned, he walked in to see me packing. Half of my clothes were already thrown out, and the rest had been shipped to Wimborne ahead of time.

He looked puzzled. "Why are you packing your things?"

"I'm moving," I said flatly, not bothering to look up.

He paused for a moment, didn't pick up on anything unusual, and just kept talking like everything was normal.

"Preston Group's headquarters are based in Wimborne. We'll be settling there after the wedding, so it makes sense for you to start packing early."

Then, his expression hardened as he looked straight at me. "About Ariana's mother… You'll need to apologize. Don't make things harder for me. Just do it on the wedding day, alright?"

Without waiting for a response, he tossed his phone aside and went to search for his ID. Today was the day he and Ariana got their marriage certificate signed.

He didn't come home that night. When I finally turned my phone on, Ariana's message popped up instantly. The photo showed her and Micah in matching loungewear, curled up together in bed.

I closed my eyes, but the sting in my chest still caught me off guard. Swallowing the emotion, I turned off my phone without replying.

Later into the night, my phone buzzed on the nightstand every hour. Each time it vibrated, it was another taunting video from Ariana of her and Micah, flaunting their intimacy like it was some kind of victory.

By morning, Elijah finally messaged me. "Ms. Preston, the flowers have bloomed. It's time to come home."

Attached was a photo of two marriage certificates, resting beside a blooming crimson peony. I hadn't expected him to keep the flower I gave him all those years ago. And somehow, seeing it stirred something unfamiliar in my chest.

I sent one word back. "Okay."

Then, I put down the phone and started organizing my work files and laptop. At some point, Micah had returned.

He moved around the room casually, throwing a few everyday essentials into a bag. "I'm going to stay with Ariana for a few days. She's swamped planning the wedding and can't handle it all on her own.

"Don't forget, the wedding's in two days. Be there on time."

After saying that, Micah launched into a long explanation. It was the usual—he was just helping with Ariana's wedding, nothing inappropriate, and I shouldn't make a scene about it.

I kept my gaze low and replied quietly, "Yeah, I won't show up."

Whatever feelings I had left for him had completely vanished after what happened last night.

Micah watched the calm on my face, and a wave of unease crept over him, tightening in his chest. For a moment, he hesitated. But the image of Ariana's clingy sweetness flashed through his mind, and his grip on the phone loosened.

He thought, "Skylar's always loved me. Nothing's going to change that."

With that thought, he let out a breath, relieved. He didn't push further and walked out of the room without looking back.

I watched his figure fade into the distance, then pulled out my phone and made a call.

That evening, a helicopter landed quietly in the plaza. A man stepped forward to greet me. "Ms. Preston, the helicopter you scheduled is ready. We'll have you safely in Wimborne within the next thirty minutes."

I nodded and handed him a sealed envelope. "Deliver this to the wedding venue tomorrow. It's my gift to the bride and groom."