Chapter 1
Juliette POV
“What is happening?” my mother asked again, and this time my fingers started shaking.
Around a hundred people—relatives, friends, family—were looking into my eyes, which were now welling with tears.
I never expected this from him. I never thought that one day I would be standing all broken, shaky and helpless because of him. And, the day would be our wedding.
“Call him again. Where is he?” My mother held my hand, and I nodded, sniffing and moving my shaky fingers over the numbers. As I dialled, the phone kept ringing until the very end—once, twice, and I lost count of how many times I called him.
After almost forty-five minutes of people gossiping and waiting, I was breaking, a message arrived.
My fingers moved quickly to see if he had something urgent. There had been an accident, and he was sorry.
But my heart split into two when it said. “I can’t marry you.”
That was it?
I kept refreshing the inbox, staring helplessly at my network towers, wondering if it was weak. But, it seemed like it was it.
“What happened?” my mother held my hand. My whole body froze. “Show me,” she snatched the phone from my hand, and sat back on the bench with shock.
“What is happening?” she started breaking down into tears as well.
My father sprinted towards her, and in a matter of a few minutes, my phone travelled through the hands of people who were there for me, feeling bad, and wiping my tears.
“This can’t happen. We invested everything in this wedding,” my father palmed his face, sitting beside my mother.
Being the only child, my life has never made me feel worse than this. Throughout their life, they did everything for me; they invested their pennies into it. And, the day when it was to be paid off, he did me dirty.
Liam Port was my father’s boss and became interested in me two months ago. We met at the company’s annual party, and since then, he has behaved nicely toward me.
Later, my father learned he was interested in marrying me. And somehow, because he was rich, powerful, and my father’s boss, I understood that I had no say in this. My father idolised him and often relied on his extra support.
Trusting him, my parents invested all their money with mine, along with the loan taken on the collateral of our home.
“You must have done something wrong. That’s why he said it,” my father rose from the bench, and the way he growled at me, I couldn’t help but step back in fear. My gaze lowered, breath hitched, and heart beat raced.
It must have happened on that day. Two days ago, I was invited to his party, and that day, he tried to touch me between my legs right in front of his friends. I felt something, but as they all laughed, I realised I shouldn’t make it a big thing.
But now, I was beginning to realise what he was truly interested in.
Yet, “I am sorry,” I said to my father.
It could be a mistake. Maybe, if I had allowed him to do that, he wouldn’t have called the wedding off.
But he couldn’t do that to me, not after making such huge promises. Our everything was at stake. He couldn’t do this to me.
Stepping ahead, I snatched my phone from my mother and called him. As the bell rang, I nervously chewed on my fingers, shaking with betrayal. In my twenty-one years of life, I never thought that I would see my parents crying like this.
I did everything. I didn’t date in my teenage years; I saved myself for a great man. I did whatever they said, because I wanted to make them happy about their child.
He didn’t pick up.
But, at that moment, they looked devastated because of me.
I dialled again. “Please, please, please, Liam, pick up,” I whispered to myself, my lips trembling with how people started leaving the church.
Dressed in a white bridal attire, I felt my life ending in this place.
And, suddenly, my breath stopped as I noticed a man rise from the last benches of the church, dressed in a black suit, with tall, wide shoulders, and someone who could easily catch attention among the thousands.
I looked away, goosebumps rising on my face as him leaving felt a kick in the gut. Liam was not coming. This was over. My life was over.
My eyes closed, letting the fresh and warm tears roll down my cheeks.
“He is not coming,” a deeply unfamiliar manly voice caught my attention. Opening my eyes, I averted my gaze to the same man standing before me.
“Why? How do you know?” my mother stood up from the bench. Her fingers clenched his hand in hope. My father’s eyes now held tears.
And my heart tightened when he stepped closer to me.
My head was slightly tilted backwards to keep looking into his grey eyes.
“Why?” I murmured.
His jaw tightened as he stared sharply at my flushed face.
“He is an asshole. Marry me,” his words shook me to the core.
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