Chapter 1

Chloe’s POV

I did it. I actually did it.

Standing beneath the floral arch at the Malibu clifftop villa, I clutched my fiancé Liam Richardson's hand, feeling like I was living in a dream.

White roses sparkled in the afternoon sunlight, ocean breeze caressed my cheeks, and a hundred elegantly dressed guests smiled at us with approval.

This custom-made $30,000 wedding gown perfectly concealed my five-month pregnancy. In just eight months, I had gone from a cramped apartment in East LA to this luxurious Malibu mansion, achieving everything I'd ever dreamed of.

I looked down at my parents in the audience, both already in tears.

"Look at all this, Chloe really made it," Dad Carlos said to Mom in a trembling voice. "Look at this mansion, look at these people. I've never seen anything this fancy in my entire life."

Mom Maria squeezed Dad's hand tight. "Chloe deserves all this. She's so talented, works so hard."

I almost cried right there. Yes, I deserved this.

I was Chloe Martinez, a Mexican-American girl who'd made it through talent and hard work. Not only had I become a successful interior designer, but I was about to marry one of LA's most successful real estate developers.

This fairy-tale beautiful villa would soon be my home.

The guests around us whispered in admiration:

"Liam really found himself a beauty."

"I heard she's an interior designer, very talented."

"What a perfect couple, like something out of a movie."

Hearing these words made my heart swell with pride.

The minister cleared his throat, his voice carrying far on the ocean breeze: "Liam Richardson, do you take Chloe Martinez to be your wife, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish her until death do you part?"

"I do." Liam's voice was firm and loving, those blue eyes gazing at me as if I were his entire world.

My heart was pounding out of my chest. This was everything I'd dreamed of. Finally, my parents could be proud of me.

"Chloe Martinez, do you take—"

"Wait."

A cold, clear female voice suddenly rang out from the back of the guest seating, interrupting the sacred ceremony. My body went rigid instantly, a sense of dread washing over me.

Everyone turned around, and so did I. I saw a woman in a white suit walking gracefully across the lawn, each step radiating confidence as if this were her stage.

My heart clenched. Every instinct screamed danger. This woman was beautiful—breathtakingly so—but what terrified me more was the air of ownership she carried, as if she possessed everything...

I unconsciously smoothed down my wedding dress, suddenly feeling like a fraud.

"Eleanor?" Liam's voice carried obvious shock and panic. "What... what are you doing here?"

Eleanor? I'd never heard Liam mention this name, but the way he said it... that familiarity and intimacy filled me with dread.

Eleanor walked up to us, raised the champagne flute in her hand, and flashed a perfect smile at all the guests: "I'm here to toast the happy couple."

She turned to Liam, her eyes holding some complex emotion. "Congratulations, Liam. Seeing you both living in the blueprint I designed... it really moves me."

No, this couldn't be possible.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Designed blueprint? What do you mean? What are you talking about?" My voice trembled as my mind desperately denied what I was hearing.

Eleanor elegantly sipped her champagne, then turned to me with a smile that chilled me to the bone: "Dear bride, I hope you like this 'future home' I created for your husband."

She laughed softly. "From the architectural design to the interior decoration, from the garden layout to today's wedding planning, every single detail came from MY HANDS. Are you satisfied with it?"

What?!

I looked around at this villa that had captured my heart and soul, this perfect wedding that had moved me to tears—all of it was another woman's creation?

The world tilted on its axis, as if the entire universe was mocking my naivety.

The guest seating erupted in commotion:

"Who is she?"

"What does she mean it's her design?"

"Liam, what's going on?"

"Eleanor, you've had too much to drink." Liam's voice was tense, and I could see fine beads of sweat on his forehead. "This isn't the place for this."

He was protecting her. My new husband was protecting another woman.

"Too much to drink?" Eleanor suddenly swayed, looking genuinely intoxicated. "Maybe so... I shouldn't have come..." Her voice became shaky, tears glistening in her eyes. "I just wanted to see who was living out the future we once planned together."

The future we once planned together? I felt my heart being viciously torn apart.

In that moment, I watched Liam's expression completely transform. Without hesitation, he walked toward Eleanor and reached out to steady her swaying body.

At our wedding, in front of everyone, he chose another woman.

Rage blazed through me. I wanted to scream, to demand answers, to tear off this false wedding dress, but I couldn't move.

"Chloe, I can't let her drive in this condition." He said without so much as a glance in my direction. "I'll take her to a hotel. You handle the guests for now."

"Liam!" Desperation filled my voice. "You can't leave our wedding—"

But before I could finish, Liam was already walking quickly away, supporting Eleanor, leaving me alone under the floral arch with weak knees, barely able to stand. I bit down hard on my lower lip, fighting not to collapse in front of everyone.

"What... what is happening?" Dad stood up in shock. "Chloe, who is that woman?"

Mom was already crying: "My daughter, my poor daughter..."

The guests' chatter grew louder, each comment cutting into me like a knife:

"The groom abandoning the bride at their own wedding? What kind of situation is this?"

"That Eleanor must be something special—look how Liam protected her."

"My God, this is so embarrassing. If that were my daughter, I'd take her away immediately."

I stood there alone, five months pregnant, under everyone's stare, truly seeing this villa that had held all my dreams for the first time.

It turned out I'd been living inside someone else's love story all along.

The ocean breeze turned bitter, the sunlight dimmed. I gently touched my belly as a terrifying thought crept into my mind: if even this wedding was Eleanor's design, then how much of Liam's love for me was real?

I watched the direction where Liam had disappeared with Eleanor, tears finally spilling over. And what secrets lay hidden in that elegant woman's "blueprint"?

This day that should have been the most beautiful of my life had become my greatest nightmare. I, Chloe Martinez, a pregnant bride, had been publicly abandoned by my own husband.

Had all this beauty never belonged to me from the start?

Or had I been nothing more than a stand-in in someone else's love story from the very beginning?