All Chapters of Expired Love, After the Rain: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

After the reception, Stella was so incensed she nearly shattered her champagne flute in the lounge. "That Emily girl definitely calculated her position! I specifically arranged for the bouquet to land with you, the 'bride-to-be', to set the stage...""Stella," I interrupted softly, smoothing my skirt with practised composure, "it's your big day. Don't waste your energy on such a minor incident."I knew better than anyone that Emily had been working hard to establish her presence beside Ryan for the past six months. Ryan frequently took her to high-profile social events under the guise of "training", even bringing her to a wedding as private as this one.While Ryan chatted effortlessly with venture capital titans recently returned to London, Emily sat right next to him — the distance between them long since crossing the boundaries of a professional assistant.She wasn't even supposed to be a bridesmaid; she was only a last-minute fill-in because the groom's side had an extra groomsman.

A few seconds later, he turned around. The cold midnight light washed over his face, and the practised warmth he usually wore finally began to peel away."Claire, stop this now."He pressed his fingers against his temple — a habit he had whenever he found something bothersome. "Marriage takes planning, Claire. It isn't something you announce because you're sulking. You, of all people, should understand how this industry works.""October 28th." I ignored his lecture and calmly restated the date. "The venue is booked, and the final fitting for the wedding dress is done."A cold, mocking laugh escaped him, the kind of elitist cruelty he excelled at. "Is this Stella talking? That impulsive bride who thinks the whole world should run on her wedding-week emotions? Claire, you need to wake up. We've been together for eight years...""Ryan," I interrupted, my voice ringing clear in the dead silence of the hallway, "the invitations are already at the printer."I saw a muscle in his face twitch

Ryan moved into his Canary Wharf pied-à-terre, a high-rise flat with a sweeping view of the Thames.He was clearly resorting to his favourite tactic — the cold shoulder — to wear down my resolve. In the eyes of a man who mastered the art of M&A and risk assessment, emotions were just another negotiation.He believed that as long as he remained sufficiently indifferent, I would eventually crawl back to repair the rift, terrified of losing the social status that came with being "the future Mrs. Carter".I handled the situation with the efficiency of a solicitor closing a contract. I contacted Sotheby's International Realty and listed our Mayfair duplex for sale.On the afternoon I handed the keys to the agent, I found a misplaced financing draft tucked between the shelves. It belonged to the project Ryan was currently spearheading, one that was vital to his firm. Out of what little professional loyalty I had left, I decided to drop it off at his apartment on my way out.When I arrived, t

"What do you mean, 'sold'?" Ryan gripped his phone, his mind blank for a fraction of a second."The duplex in Mayfair... the concierge said the sale was completed just a few days ago!" His friend's voice on the other end crackled with a sense of absurd disbelief. "Ryan, what the hell is going on?"Ryan's hand, reaching for his suit jacket, froze mid-air."Sale completed?" His brow furrowed, every word sounding as if it were being squeezed through his teeth. "Explain yourself. That's impossible.""It's the apartment you lived in with Claire! The concierge said the owner has changed, and the new residents are already moving in! I asked him where Claire was, and he didn't have a clue!" His friend's voice grew increasingly frantic. "Did you two move without telling us? Buddy, the wedding starts in two hours!"A sudden crack of thunder seemed to explode in Ryan's mind.The noisy chatter on the phone began to fade, leaving only a sharp, ringing silence... Sold? That apartment?It was in Mayf

"Sir, please present your invitation."The staff member's words were like a fine needle, pricking Ryan's frayed nerves. Standing at the entrance of the ballroom, his arrogance as a top-tier financial elite kept him from even glancing down. He merely dropped a cold sentence:"I am the groom."A crack appeared in the staff member's professional smile. She glanced at Ryan's suit, then down at the guest list. Her tone became exceptionally subtle: "I am sorry, sir. Today's groom, Mr Ethan, is already preparing in the lounge. May I ask who you are?""Ethan?"The unfamiliar name made Ryan's temples throb. Yet, he quickly completed a piece of logical gymnastics in his mind: Claire must have hired a staff member or asked a groomsman to stand in just to spite him."I am Ryan." He pushed directly past the velvet rope, stepping into the hall with a triumphant, cold smirk. "Go tell Claire the farce is over. I've arrived on time."He strode down the red carpet.The ballroom was packed with London's