Save it, Mr Arrogant! I Dumped You After Reborn.

On my wedding day, my husband abandoned me to marry his childhood sweetheart, while I was tortured to death.

~~~

Today was supposed to be the best day of my life. Instead, I was bound and bleeding in a warehouse, watching through a grimy window as Adrian Whitmore married the woman I’d spent three years trying to become.

Thwack!

The kidnapper's hand struck across my face, sending stars dancing across my vision.

"You worthless thing," he snarled, grabbing my hair. "I can't believe Mr Whitmore won't even pay a measly million-dollar ransom. We really misjudged this one. We shouldn't have listened to that bitch and taken this job. This was supposed to be easy money!"

Dazed and terrified, I struggled to understand what was happening. Why had I been kidnapped? Today was supposed to be my wedding day, the day I finally became Mrs Evelyn Whitmore after three years of devotion, three years of moulding myself into the perfect wife for him.

"Please," I pleaded weakly, my voice cracking. "I'm Adrian's wife—Adrian Whitmore. Call him, he'll pay anything to get me back. I promise you."

The kidnapper laughed cruelly, jerking my face up to meet his cold gaze. "

"Wife? You must be delusional? Why are you still calling yourself Adrian's wife when you're just a toy that Adrian has finished playing with? Adrian is currently getting married to Isabella, and their photos are all over the internet. Do you think he still cares about you?"

With a sickening amusement on the face of the kidnapper, he pulled out his phone and thrust the screen in front of my eyes. I stared in shock at the bright headlines and photos. Adrian, in a tailored, immaculate black tuxedo, smiling warmly, his arm around Isabella Clarke in a flowing white wedding gown.

The caption read: Adrian Whitmore and Isabella Clarke tie the knot in fairytale wedding."

All the blood in my body seemed to flow backwards, leaving me cold and hollow. The warehouse walls pressed closer, threatening to crush what remained of my sanity.

"No…No!" I screamed hysterically, as panic rose in my chest. "It's a lie! Today is my wedding! Adrian would never do this to me."

Today was supposed to be my wedding day with Adrian. I'd waited for hours in my wedding dress, adjusting my veil, checking my makeup, with my heart fluttering with anticipation.

Adrian would come. He has to come.

Those were the words I kept repeating to myself until I was kidnapped, and even now, with my wrists bound and my face throbbing from their blows, I knew Adrian must be searching for me.

He was somewhere out there, moving heaven and earth to find me, probably coordinating with the police and possibly offering a reward. The wedding could wait—what mattered was that I was safe.

"Impossible," I shook my head so violently that my dark hair whipped across my face. "These photos must be fake. I don't believe it; I don't believe it!"

The desperation in my voice made me sound like a wild animal. This couldn't be real. The photos were doctored. Adrian wouldn't—he couldn't—

The kidnapper's eyes lit up with delight at my distress. "Still dreaming? Then let me wake you up!"

Before I could ask what he meant, his hands seized my arm, dragging me violently across the room, my feet scrapping painfully against the rough floor.

“NO. NO. NO—Adrian’s coming!” I screamed, yanking so hard against the grip of the kidnapper that my shoulder popped. “He’s looking for me RIGHT NOW!” I shrieked, digging my heels in. “He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES ME! Today is our wedding, and he’s coming to get me.”

“Shut up! You fool!” the kidnapper hissed and kicked open a door as he shoved me into a small, dingy room with a single window. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunlight that streamed through the grimy glass, and I could hear the distant sound of a wedding orchestra playing.

He pushed me to the window and shoved my face against the dirty window, yanking the curtains open.

"See for yourself."

I looked up, and my entire world stopped.

Through the cracked glass, I could see the Grand Ballroom of the Whitemore Hotel in the distance. Its chandeliers shine brightly with light. White flowers cascaded from every surface, and elegantly dressed guests filled the pews.

Security guards in black suits line the perimeter—the kind of tight security that only the Whitmore family could afford.

From this vantage point, somehow, I could see everything.

Suddenly, I saw Adrian standing at the altar.

He stood tall and handsome in his black formal suit, beaming with smiles. My heart leapt with joy in my chest.

"Adrian!" I gasped, pressing my face against the cool glass. "This is my wedding," I said excitedly. The words had barely left my mouth when a woman dressed in white walked up to the stage towards Adrian.

I held my breath as I saw the face beneath the white veil. Heart-shaped eyes, doe eyes, that perfect rosebud mouth I'd spent countless hours trying to recreate with lipstick and gloss.

It was Isabella indeed, just like the picture. It was Isabella Clarke.

She was wearing the white wedding dress that should have been mined. Facing Adrian at the altar that should have been ours. Preparing for the ceremony that I'd dreamed about every night for three years.

"No." The word fell from my lips like a stone. Then louder: "NO!"

I pounded against the window with my fist.

"Impossible, impossible!" I screamed, pounding harder and louder at the window. "Today was supposed to be my wedding with Adrian!"

The kidnapper came forward, a sneer on his lips. "Still stubbornly refusing to accept reality? Today, I'll let you die with complete clarity." He pulled out his phone again and dialled it. "Let's see what your precious Adrian really thinks of you."

"Yes," I whispered, hope fluttering in my chest. "Call him. He'll pay anything. He loves me."

The phone rang once. Twice. Each ring felt like an eternity. My heart was hammering against my chest as I waited to hear Adrian's voice filled with panic and desperation. He would be frantic when he realised I was missing from our wedding. This was all a mistake.

On the third ring, he picked up.

"What?"

He sounded annoyed. Like a man interrupted during something important, which I realised with a sick twist in my stomach, he was. He was getting married to someone else.

“Still not convinced, I have Evelyn Bennett?” The kidnapper said with a voice that sent shivers up my spine. “I wasn’t joking earlier when I said I would kill her. One million dollars or she dies. This is your last chance.”

Silence stretched across the line. One second. Two. Five. Each moment of quiet felt like a nail in my coffin, but I told myself Adrian was processing, just figuring out how to get me the help I needed. He was probably already signalling his security team, maybe asking them to trace the call and…

Then snorted a dry laugh.

“I thought I made myself clear the first time,” he said, and I could hear the sneer in his voice. “That dirty woman means nothing to me. Stop wasting my time with these ridiculous calls.”

Dirty woman.

The words rang in my head. My knees buckled, but I couldn't fall. My shock held me upright, as fresh tears rolled down my face.

Me? A dirty woman? After three years of devotion. Three years of shaping myself into exactly what he wanted. Three years of learning Isabella's mannerisms, her laughter, and her way of tilting her head when she spoke. Three years of abandoning my own dreams, my career, my own identity, to become worthy of his love.

Yet, he thought I was dirty.

I'd never imagined he could say such things about me. Not after everything I'd sacrificed. I've been single-heartedly devoted to him, obedient, submissive, never questioning his coldness or distance. With just one word from Adrian, I would have given up my life, and I hadn't, hadn't I? I'd given up everything that made me, me, to stand beside him.

I thought he would at least have some pity for me. Some small measure of concern. Even if he didn't love me the way I loved him, surely three years of faithful service meant something. Surely, I meant something.

But his next words broke my heart completely.

"Whoever you are, stop wasting my time. I have no interest in whatever happens to that dirty woman. Go play your tricks elsewhere," he continued, his voice growing more irritated with each word. "Even if Evelyn dies, it doesn't matter. Don't delay my wedding with my wife."

The words echoed in my skull like a death sentence. It didn't matter. My life, the life I'd spent three years moulding to fit his expectations, didn't matter. I was nothing to him. Less than nothing.

"Damn bad luck," I heard him mutter before the line went dead.

I collapsed onto the concrete floor, gasping for air. My entire body felt crushed, as if a train had run over me and left nothing but broken pieces behind. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think beyond all the words Adrian had just said.

The whole city knew I was Isabella's replacement—it was an open secret. Under Victoria, my step-mother's coercion, desperate to secure the Bennett family's survival, I hadn't hesitated to learn Isabella's dressing style, study her mannerisms, and abandon my budding career in art restoration. I'd willingly become a substitute, a pale imitation of the woman Adrian truly wanted.

I could warm Adrian's heart. I thought if I tried hard enough, loved him, sacrificed enough, he would eventually see me as more than just a stand-in. I thought my devotion would mean something.

But everything I did was to help Isabella prepare for her wedding.

The kidnapper spat in disgust; his eyes had turned red with rage. His hands shot out, wrapping around my throat as his fingers dug into my skin, blocking my windpipe until I could barely breathe.

"Damn it, I'm wasting my time," he cursed, spittle flying from his lips. "That damn Isabella had said as long as I kidnap you, Adrian would definitely pay!"

Isabella? So, all of this was Isabella's plan?

The thought of it hit me like I'd been struck by lightning as my eyes widened until they felt like copper bells. My blood seemed to freeze completely at that moment as an unprecedented chill rushed from my feet straight to the top of my head. I began to tremble uncontrollably as if I'd been thrown into an ice cellar and left slowly to die.

It wasn't enough for her to steal Adrian. It wasn't enough to steal my wedding, my future, my place at his side. Isabella wanted my life, too.

Anger and despair intertwined in my heart. I only like Adrian. That was all. I'd never wanted to provoke anyone, never tried to hurt Isabella, never even acknowledged the competition between us. I'd just loved a man who didn't love me back, and somehow that simple, pathetic truth had earned me everyone's hatred—even my death.

"Why?" I murmured hoarsely as tears gushed down my cheeks like a broken dam. "Why treat me like this? What did I ever do wrong?"

What had I done to deserve this? What crime had I committed beyond loving someone who would never love me back?

The kidnapper's grip tightened around my throat, cutting off what little air I'd been managing to draw. Driven by pure instinct, I struggled against him, my hands clawing uselessly at his fingers as he pressed me violently against the grimy window.

And through that window, I could see Adrian taking Isabella's hand, preparing to exchange rings at the altar that should have been ours.

Even now, I thought, even dying, I'm watching him marry someone else.

"Was Adrian part of this, too?" I managed to ask; my voice barely audible.

Bang!

Fireworks exploded outside the window across the sky in brilliant cascades of gold and silver. Under their dazzling light, Adrian and Isabella kissed, sealing their union while my life ebbed away.

As consciousness began to slip from me, I saw myself as if from a great distance—a broken doll dressed up to look like Isabella Clarke. Hair styled like hers, makeup applied to mimic her features, even my posture was carefully adjusted to match her graceful way of moving.

I was a perfect replica, a flawless imitation, a beautiful lie, sacrificing everything for a love that had never existed.

With my final breath, I made a desperate prayer to heaven,

If I could live again, I would be myself. I would stay far away from Adrian Whitmore. I would never approach him, and I would never, ever fall in love with him again.

And then…darkness.

***

"No way! I remember she can't swim, yet she just jumped into such a deep pool without hesitation. Unbelievable!"

"How can she be so shameless? Even if it's the ring Adrian threw, so what? She actually went down to retrieve it?"

"Who doesn't know Evelyn is Adrian's lapdog? She would never mind jumping into water, even if Adrian asked her to dance naked in front of us, she definitely wouldn't refuse!"

The voices swirled around me like a cruel symphony, punctuated by laughter that felt like daggers against her skin. I felt dizzy and disoriented. My lungs burned, my chest tight with a suffocating sensation that made me panic.

Water. I was underwater. How was I underwater?

Suddenly, instinct kicked in. I struggled upward with desperate strokes, breaking the surface of what I now realised was a swimming pool. I gasped for air, chlorinated water streaming from my hair and burning my nose as I treaded water.

I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision, and saw elegantly dressed men and women lining the pool's edge. They held crystal champagne flutes and watched me with the kind of amused disdain usually reserved for circus performers as they watched me struggle.

Somewhere in the background, a string quartet was playing.

This scene…it was so familiar…

I was in a swimming pool, wearing a formal dress that weighed me down like an anchor. My makeup was undoubtedly ruined, my carefully styled hair hanging in wet ropes around my face. And all around me, the wealthy elite of our social circle were watching me like I was entertainment.

This was my engagement party with Adrian three years ago.

The realisation hit me more now.

The Whitmore estate. The grand ballroom. The engagement ring glinting at the bottom of the pool—the ring Adrian had thrown with such casual cruelty when I'd tried to put it on his finger.

But I remembered dying. I remembered Isabella's betrayal, the kidnapper's hands around my throat, and Adrian's wedding day kiss under a shower of fireworks. I remembered making that desperate prayer with my final breath...

I've been reborn.