On my wedding day, I was sitting on my fiancé’s father’s bed. He held my wrist and asked in a low voice if I regretted anything. At that moment, the space between us was dangerously close, charged with a tension that should never have existed. But the one who crossed the line wasn’t us—it was my fiancé. He vanished with a farewell message sent to his mistress, leaving me alone at the wedding venue. His father stepped in to clean up the mess. He shielded me, kissed me, and opened the door to a far more ruthless path of revenge. I am Sienna Henderson, heiress of Henderson Enterprises. Today was supposed to be my wedding day with Evan Westfield, the young heir of Westfield Corporation. But the groom, who was meant to be front and center, was nowhere to be found. “You’re telling me Evan ran away?” I asked, my voice cold. “That’s what they’re saying…” the maid stammered, trembling as she explained. My parents were livid. Both the Henderson and Westfield families had spent months preparing for this wedding. Every major elite family in New York City had been invited, and the media was eagerly covering it. If Evan had any issues with the wedding, he had plenty of opportunities to voice them. But to flee on the day of the ceremony? That was a direct slap in the face to the Hendersons. After offering me some reassurances, my parents hurried off to figure out how to salvage the situation. I sat in the corner, quietly thinking about how to proceed with the reception when I heard a commotion at the entrance. Instinctively, I looked up. Walking through the door in a tailored black suit was a strikingly handsome man. This man was Damian “Chris” Westfield, the current head of Westfield Corporation and, technically, Evan’s father. Despite being thirty-five, he looked like he was barely in his twenties. Chris rarely attended large social events. Even I had only met him a handful of times. So seeing him here, now, drew the attention of every family present. People practically tripped over themselves to get to him. Staring at Chris’s perfect features, a wild idea flashed in my mind. As I watched him politely turn down everyone’s advances, he suddenly walked straight toward me. “Mr. Westfield,” I greeted him with a polite smile, though I couldn’t hide a hint of vulnerability in my voice. His voice, low and melodic like a cello, came next. “Miss Henderson, I apologize for Evan’s behavior. I’ve already sent people to find him. When he’s caught, you may decide what happens to him.” “I’ll inform everyone that the wedding is postponed, and Westfield Corporation will cover all expenses.” It was a perfect solution, but I had a better plan. “Mr. Westfield, this engagement has always been between the Hendersons and the Westfields, right? The groom doesn’t necessarily have to be Evan, does it?” “What?” His eyes darkened, clearly taken aback by the sudden turn. After a pause, he asked, “Well, who would you choose then?” I smiled sweetly, extending my hand. “Would you be my groom?”
Although Chris is Evan’s father in name, he isn’t his biological dad. There were rumors Chris had certain… physical shortcomings, which is why he was still unmarried. At twenty-five, he adopted Evan from a distant relative. Whether or not those rumors were true didn’t concern me. Medical advancements these days are incredible—I’m sure any issue could be resolved. And if not, well, maybe we just don’t have kids. Chris raised an eyebrow, amused by the bold smile on my face. “Are you sure?” “Of course,” I replied without hesitation. After all, Chris was far more attractive than Evan—by miles. Even if the rumors were true, just looking at his face every day would be more than enough for me. It sure beats being humiliated by a two-timing Evan. Chris studied me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Alright.” His strong, masculine hand clasped mine, and my heart skipped a beat. The wedding went on with a new leading man. I didn’t even have to change my dress. The elegant white gown, paired with Chris’s custom-tailored black suit, made us look like we were always meant to be bride and groom. Everyone at the reception caught on quickly. Evan’s sudden disappearance wasn’t exactly a secret, and the guests had more or less figured it out. The media, sensing a scandal, had their cameras ready, eager to capture the drama unfolding between two of New York’s wealthiest families. But when they saw me walking down the aisle, arm in arm with Chris, jaws dropped. The audacity of switching grooms at the last minute left them all speechless. The officiant, ever the professional, read off the updated details with ease. “Please, exchange your rings…” Chris pulled out a ring and slid it onto my finger, and I did the same for him. I quickly noticed the ring didn’t quite fit—after all, it was sized for Evan. It was a rushed job, but it would have to do. Then came the moment for the groom to kiss the bride. I felt a wave of nerves. Chris was known for being discreet and private—he rarely attended events, and when he did, he never had a date. Would he really want to kiss me in front of all these people? I regretted dragging him into this mess on a whim. But before I could spiral into doubt, I felt the soft pressure of his lips on mine. Shocked, I opened my eyes, and there he was—his perfect face, inches from mine. Sensing my surprise, Chris gently cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss. I closed my eyes again, letting myself sink into the moment as the crowd around us erupted into applause.
My parents had no idea about my last-minute decision, but faced with the congratulations from everyone around us, they had no choice but to smile and accept it. They couldn’t possibly embarrass their daughter in public, could they? During the reception, my mom pulled me aside into a private room where my dad was already waiting. She locked the door behind her. “Sienna, what is going on? How did you end up marrying Chris Westfield?” “Because… he’s handsome.” I had no better explanation for my sudden impulse. “Handsome?” My mom thought about it for a moment. “Well… he is good-looking.” “But he’s more than ten years older than you! He was almost done with elementary school when you were born.” “So what? They say older men are more caring.” I tried to play it cool. “But… there’s a rumor he can’t, well, you know…” Yikes. This was going to be tough to explain. Before I could figure out how to dodge that landmine, there was a knock on the door. My mom opened it, and there stood Chris. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there. With practiced ease, my parents plastered on polite smiles, as if they hadn’t just been gossiping about the man. “Mr. Westfield, what brings you here?” “I’d like to have a word with you both, if you don’t mind,” Chris said. I have no idea what he said to them, but by the time their conversation ended, my parents were no longer opposing the marriage. In fact, they seemed genuinely impressed with him. “Chris is quite something,” my dad said approvingly. “He’s capable, resourceful. Sure, he’s a bit older, but that kind of man can protect our daughter.” Evan, who ran away like a coward, certainly couldn’t.
After the wedding, I moved into the Westfield Estate. This was Chris’s personal residence, and it was my first time there. The décor was modern, minimalist, with everything in black, white, or gray. After a day filled with endless socializing, I could feel the alcohol and sweat clinging to my skin. Chris headed off to shower first while I relaxed on the couch. I could hear the sound of the water running, and through the frosted glass of the bathroom door, I could just make out his silhouette. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, so I quickly averted my eyes. Eventually, the water stopped, and out of habit, I glanced up as Chris emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a robe, the collar slightly open, revealing a chiseled chest and abs. I stared, wide-eyed. I hadn’t expected him to look so… fit. Chris caught me looking and gave a small, amused smile. “Sienna, maybe you should take a shower too,” he said, his voice deep and teasing. Snapping out of my daze, I bolted into the bathroom, my face burning. As the water rushed over me, my mind replayed the way he’d called me by my name. How had I not noticed before how charming he was? After my shower, I realized I’d forgotten to bring my clothes into the bathroom. Ugh. There was no choice but to crack open the door just a bit and call out, “Chris, I forgot my clothes. Can you grab the bag on the couch and hand it to me?” There was no response at first, and I started to wonder if he’d left the room. Just as I was about to ask again, his voice came from outside the door, a little rougher than before. “Sure.” I could hear him moving around, and soon, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Here you go.” I cracked the door just enough to extend my arm, and he handed me the clothes. “Thanks,” I muttered, quickly closing the door. But as I did, I accidentally met his gaze. Those deep, smoldering eyes… I blushed even harder. Oh my God. He hadn’t handed me the whole bag—just the underwear.
I spent a long time dawdling in the bathroom, but eventually, I had to come out. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. Chris was already changed into his pajamas, sitting on the bed, reading a document. When he saw me emerge, he calmly closed the folder. There wasn’t any teasing in his expression, which helped me relax. I had some business to address anyway. “So, what are you planning to do about Evan?” Chris had anticipated the question. He handed me the folder he’d been reading earlier. “Take a look.” I walked over and took the papers. Inside was the whole backstory of Evan and some girl—the kind of classic love affair you’d expect from a cheesy romance novel: a rich heir and a delicate, innocent girl. Next to the description was a photo of the girl. She really did fit the role of a sweet, innocent little thing. Apparently, they’d gone through rounds of dramatic breakups and reconciliations, all without me knowing. Then, last night, the girl found out Evan was getting married. Distraught, she called him, crying. Evan, ever the compassionate fool, panicked and ran off, leaving his fiancée (that’s me) behind to elope with her. Honestly, if I weren’t the poor bride left at the altar, I might have congratulated them. But no, unfortunately for me, I was the jilted bride. Seriously, where had these two been for the past few months? From the timeline in the documents, their little roller-coaster romance had been going on for two months. Longer than it took to plan the wedding. If Evan had hinted at anything during that time, I wouldn’t be so furious right now. “Evan’s off on some vacation with his little girlfriend right now,” Chris said, noting my simmering anger. “I’ve sent people to drag him back. If you want, we can pretend this whole wedding didn’t happen.” We hadn’t officially signed the marriage license yet—just held the ceremony. But I didn’t regret a thing. I’d tossed away trash and found myself a treasure. This was luck beyond belief. “No need to cancel anything. We’re married, and I’m your wife. Tomorrow, we’ll get the paperwork done.” I was serious. Chris looked at me, realizing I meant every word. His tone softened. “Alright.”
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