All Chapters of Shotgun Wedding: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Diana’s POVThe call with Gordon left me hollow, a cold unease burrowing deep in my chest. My encounter with Charles, only hours before, still clung to me like smoke I couldn’t wash off. His words, his smile, the way he wielded weakness like a blade, every detail replayed in my head.I reached for the one person who could steady me. Lucas.The phone rang. Once. Twice. Six times. No answer.I tried to tell myself he was in a meeting, his phone buried under papers, his attention claimed elsewhere. But my gut screamed otherwise. I stared at the blank screen until the silence pressed down like a weight. With a shaky exhale, I tossed the phone aside and buried myself in work, clinging to the routine like it could anchor me.It didn’t last.Barely an hour later, muffled music drifted through the wall. My heart sank. That music. I knew what it meant.I pushed away from my desk and crept to the connecting door, pressing my eye to the peephole.Gordon’s desk, his kingdom of intimidation and po

Diana’s POVWhen my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I saw was a ceiling fan whirring lazily above me. The blades creaked as they spun, slicing the silence into a dull, steady rhythm. My stomach turned. I didn’t have a ceiling fan in my room.Confusion snapped me upright, but a violent throb of pain shot through my skull, forcing me to collapse back against the pillow with a strangled groan. I pressed a trembling hand to my temple, willing the ache to subside.Where was I?I forced myself up again, slower this time, my gaze darting around the unfamiliar room. The pale wallpaper was peeling in the corners, and a faint smell of mildew clung to the air. A small television sat in the corner atop a scratched dresser, and a thin blanket covered me. My gown was still on my body, last night’s gown.My throat constricted as flashes of memory assaulted me.The gala. Gordon’s hand on mine. The clink of glasses. A room, dim, blurred. Henry’s face. Two women laughing.Then… darkness."Oh no."

Diana’s POVThe storm outside had passed, but its echo lingered in me. My room was too quiet, too still, as I sat on the edge of the bed clutching Rebecca’s photograph. Her eyes seemed to follow me no matter where I turned, patient and sad, as though daring me to ask the questions I had avoided for too long.Who was Lucas Everhart really?The more I stared at her face, the more the doubts twisted inside me. I realised, with a jolt of terror, that I had entrusted my freedom, my future, even my very identity, to a man I barely knew. A stranger who appeared in prison like some dark miracle.I opened my laptop and typed the name he had once given me: Everhart & Vale LLP. It was a gleaming website, polished, every word screaming prestige. A fortress of glass and power. If Lucas was who he said he was, there would be proof here.My fingers shook as I scrolled through the list of lawyers. Row after row of carefully staged portraits, smiling faces, immaculate resumes.But no Lucas Everhart.M

Diana’s POVLucas had left, and I was alone again in the quiet of my room. The silence pressed against me, but my thoughts were anything but still. They circled one face, one name, Rebecca. Who was she, really?It couldn’t be just love that bound Lucas to her memory so fiercely. They never even dated, so how had she managed to wrap the son of one of the wealthiest men alive around her finger? There had to be something deeper, something more dangerous.I paced from wall to wall, gnawed by questions. I thought back to the story Rebecca once told me, the one about how she ended up in prison. Lucas had repeated it almost word for word. That wasn’t a coincidence. It meant she had told him the same version. Which begged the question: was it the truth, or a story carefully constructed to mask something else?The more I thought about it, the less my own trauma seemed to matter; the violation Gordon had subjected me to was momentarily buried under this need for answers. I had peeled back one l

Third Person POVDiana sat stiffly on the couch, the stem of her glass trembling faintly between her fingers. Her gaze wasn’t on Benjamin, who had begun talking about the purpose of the meeting, or on Gordon, who was going through the pages of the proposal. Her eyes were locked on Lucas.He sat across the room, perfectly composed, listening intently to Benjamin’s words. His posture was calm, his jaw set, his expression unreadable. To anyone else, he looked like a barrister focused on business. To Diana, every breath he took was a reminder of confusion.Why is he here? He told me he wouldn’t move forward without my consent. And yet here he is, seated with Gordon as though nothing matters. And who is the man with him?She tilted her glass, letting the sharp burn of alcohol slip down her throat. It didn’t dull her questions, only thickened the knot of dread in her chest. She kept requesting a refill each time her glass was empty. Finally, she requested a whole bottle.At the discussion t