Chapter 2

I was paralyzed by Kael's loaded whisper, the implications sinking into my skin like venom.

Before I could process the sickening weight of his words, a voice echoed up the grand staircase.

"Where's the groom? It's time for the family champagne toast!"

Kael smirked, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

"Coming!" he called out.

I lagged behind the rest of the bridal party, my hands shaking as I tore open the thick envelope he had slipped me.

Inside was a fat stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills—easily ten thousand dollars.

It was the exact same lavish "welcome to the family" cash gift his wealthy parents had given to me at our rehearsal dinner. And now, Kael was secretly handing the identical bridal treatment to my sister.

Despite the stifling July heat radiating through the estate windows, a glacial chill seeped deep into my bones.

Down in the sprawling grand foyer, my parents sat on the sofas, beaming with pride.

Kael handed 'Liora'—my sister wrapped in my gown—a crystal flute of champagne. He hovered over her attentively, murmuring so she wouldn't spill, and explicitly asked one of the maids to bring a silk cushion for her back so she wouldn't be uncomfortable during the photos.

It was the perfect picture of a devoted husband. Flawless.

Yet, watching from the outside, the agonizing truth clicked into place. His gentleness toward his bride was orchestrated. It felt rehearsed, coated in a polite, impenetrable layer of distance.

It completely lacked the raw, dangerous spark he had just directed at me upstairs.

"Seems Elowen really hit the jackpot," Aunt Beatrice chuckled, raising her glass toward the couple.

She turned to me, winking playfully. "You better step up your game, Liora. It'll be hard to find a man who dotes on you this much."

I forced a polite nod, playing the part of my sister. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kael's practiced smile slip just a fraction.

"Liora is still young," Kael interjected, his eyes briefly meeting mine. "There's no need to rush her."

Laughter rippled through the room. "Look at him! Barely officially in the family and he's already defending his favorite sister-in-law," an uncle teased.

My father chuckled right along with them. "Well, Elowen has always been the quiet, sensible one. It's good she's finally settling down. But Liora? She's the absolute life of this house. Once she moves out, Mara and I will probably cry ourselves to sleep."

The words nailed my feet to the marble floor. Suddenly, I was forcefully thrown back to the evening I announced my engagement to Kael.

There had been no tears of joy. No warm embraces to celebrate my milestone. Just a flat, dismissive nod.

"Handle the wedding planning yourselves," my mother had said. "Your father and I are too busy with the firm to micromanage catering and floral arrangements."

Not ten minutes later, Liora had bounced into the living room, pouting about wanting a brand-new, top-tier MacBook for her sudden interest in graphic design.

Instantly, my father dropped his paperwork, fishing for his reading glasses to enthusiastically compare specs online.

My mother pulled out her phone and immediately wired twenty thousand dollars to Liora's account, adding, "Just in case you need accessories, sweetheart."

I had stood in my own childhood home like an invisible intruder. Awkward, small, and entirely insignificant.

That night, I had cried in Kael's arms. He had held me tight, resting his chin on the top of my head as I fell apart.

"They're blind, El," he had whispered vehemently. "They're polishing glass while ignoring a diamond. Let them. From now on, you'll be the only gem that matters to me."

I had been naive enough to swallow that beautiful lie.

Now, surrounded by chatter and clinking glasses, I realized the devastating truth: my back was completely exposed. I had always been standing entirely alone.

Everyone in the room wasn't stupid; a few uncomfortable, pitying glances drifted toward the bride after my father's blatant display of favoritism. But Liora simply sat a little straighter on the sofa, sipping her champagne with poise.

She didn't care. She wasn't me, so she didn't have to carry the humiliating weight of a lifetime of parental neglect.

Outside, the chauffeur honked the horn of the vintage Rolls-Royce. The procession to the Grand Horizon Ballroom was ready to depart.

I turned toward the door, but a firm grip clamped around my forearm.

I looked up into Kael's eyes.

Without a word, he pulled me away from the cluster of bridesmaids, practically shoving a groomsman out of the way to usher me into the passenger seat of his lead car.

He slid into the driver's seat, closing the doors and sealing us in the cabin. "You're awfully quiet today," he murmured, his brow furrowing as he studied my profile. "It's not like you."

My fingers curled into tight fists against my dress. I swallowed the agonizing lump in my throat, channeling every ounce of Liora's signature, spoiled petulance.

"My hair got ruined in that stupid mob upstairs," I huffed, crossing my arms and looking out the window. "I'm in a bad mood."

Kael let out a low, amused chuckle. "So high maintenance," he teased, affection dripping from his tone.

Then, he rolled down his window, waved his hand out, and halted the multi-million-dollar wedding motorcade.