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Chapter 7

Author: Michelle
Adrian shoved open the courtyard gate and strode in.

Before I could move, he knocked the wildflowers from my hand and pulled me behind him.

“Who are you?”

His stare fixed on the young man in front of me.

“Stay away from my fiancée.”

Everyone in the courtyard stopped working.

The young man froze, one hand still half raised.

“Elena?”

He looked at me.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

I pulled my wrist free. Adrian had held it hard enough to leave a faint ache.

“I don’t know him.”

“Just someone asking for
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  • The Wedding He Stole From Me   Chapter 10

    Hope lit Adrian’s eyes.Because I had not walked away, he seemed to think there was still a chance.He crossed the hall quickly.“Elena.”People turned.He stopped in front of me and took a ring box from his coat pocket.Inside were the rings we had once meant to exchange at the wedding.“I know I was wrong.”His voice was rough.“I should never have left you at the altar.”“I should never have let Livia wear your dress.”“I should never have assumed you would always wait for me.”“Elena, let’s start over.”“I can stay in Santa Fe. You can work, and I’ll help you.”“If you don’t want Southbank House, I won’t keep it.”“If you don’t want to see the Moretti family, I won’t go back.”“Just give me one more chance.”Slowly, he knelt.A low stir moved through the exhibition hall.Adrian Moretti had never bowed his head to anyone.Now he was kneeling in the middle of the room, holding a ring that had come far too late.I looked at him.At the red in his eyes. At his thinner face. At the hand

  • The Wedding He Stole From Me   Chapter 9

    Adrian stared at the old phone in my hand.For the first time, panic broke through those cold, controlled eyes.“No,” he said hoarsely. “Recordings can be faked. Livia wouldn’t do this.”“Then have them examined.”I put the phone away.“Find the truth yourself.”Then I looked toward my mother and the guards behind her.“Now take your people and leave.”My mother grabbed my wrist.“Elena, Mom was wrong.”Her voice shook. She no longer sounded like Mrs. Vale, the woman who only knew how to give orders.“I shouldn’t have favored Livia. I was fooled too.”“But Vale Atelier can’t collapse. That penalty will ruin us. The house, the shop, the equipment—everything will be taken.”Tears slid down her face.“Help your family. Please.”I looked down at her.This woman had given birth to me. She had taught me my first stitch, then erased my name from every piece I made.I felt no pleasure.Only exhaustion.“Mom,” I said, “this is the last time I’ll call you that.”“I taught Vale Atelier everything

  • The Wedding He Stole From Me   Chapter 8

    I walked to the front of the workshop.My mother stood beside a black sedan, with a driver and two guards behind her.Her suit was expensive, her makeup perfect, but her voice cut across the street.“I raised that daughter myself, and now she’s hiding here while her family falls apart.”“She won’t even acknowledge her own mother.”People had stopped to watch.The moment she saw me, she rushed over and raised her hand.I stepped back.Her slap missed.“Elena, you dare dodge me?”“Pack your things and come back to New York.”“Livia’s wrist hasn’t healed. She can’t finish the iris gown.”“The association exhibition needs it tomorrow. If we miss the deadline, Vale Atelier will owe a massive penalty.”She stared at me as if I were an employee.“You’re finishing it tonight.”Adrian stood beside her, as if he had found a reason I could not refuse.“Elena, this isn’t a small amount.”“If Vale Atelier falls, your mother and Livia will suffer.”“You may be angry with me, but you can’t abandon yo

  • The Wedding He Stole From Me   Chapter 7

    Adrian shoved open the courtyard gate and strode in.Before I could move, he knocked the wildflowers from my hand and pulled me behind him.“Who are you?”His stare fixed on the young man in front of me.“Stay away from my fiancée.”Everyone in the courtyard stopped working.The young man froze, one hand still half raised.“Elena?”He looked at me.“Is he a friend of yours?”I pulled my wrist free. Adrian had held it hard enough to leave a faint ache.“I don’t know him.”“Just someone asking for directions.”Adrian turned sharply.“Elena, what did you say?”I ignored him, bent down, picked up the flowers, and handed them back.“Mateo, I’m sorry.”Mateo took them, his expression stiff. He stepped back, but Adrian’s eyes stayed on the space between us.“You disappeared for days to come here and meet him?”“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”“Do you know everyone is worried sick?”I looked at him.His jaw was dark with stubble, his eyes bloodshot, and his shirt collar wrinkl

  • The Wedding He Stole From Me   Chapter 6

    Adrian began looking for me.He went to the coffee shop I used to visit, the old bookstore near Vale Atelier, and Mrs. Bellamy’s workshop.No one told him where I was.My number was dead. My chat account was unreachable. My client files had been transferred, and the atelier lease was gone.I had vanished from his life like a cut thread.On the third night, Nico entered Southbank House and found empty bottles on the living room floor.Adrian sat before the fireplace, holding the torn draft of the black eagle crest.Nico frowned.“Don, you can’t keep doing this.”Adrian did not look up.“She erased everything.”“Maybe Elena only needs a few days to cool down.”“She took her passport, cash, and property papers. She closed her atelier and moved her clients.”Adrian lifted his bloodshot eyes.“That isn’t cooling down.”Before, when I was angry, I would only disappear for a few hours. Adrian never had to truly search for me. He knew I would come back.This time, I had left no road open behin

  • The Wedding He Stole From Me   Chapter 5

    The air in Santa Fe was dry and sharp, carrying the scent of sage and mineral dye across the yard.I lived in a small room behind the textile workshop.At dawn, I learned to boil dye, rinse cloth, and hang thread with the other apprentices. At dusk, I sat in the courtyard and sorted patterns under the cottonwood tree outside my window.The quiet felt unfamiliar.Back in New York, Adrian was still standing inside Vale Atelier.He stared at the torn draft of the black eagle crest on the table, his frown deepening.He thought I had only found another place to hide.It had happened before. After our arguments, I would go to Mrs. Bellamy’s workshop or lock myself in the embroidery room until midnight. He would come with dessert, lower his voice, and I would always give him a way back in.Adrian set the hazelnut cake on the table and called me.The call went straight to voicemail.He tried again.The same result.He opened our chat and typed:Elena, stop this.A gray circle appeared beside t

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