1 In my past life, when my sister fled her wedding, Ernie Crawford didn’t flinch. He simply married me instead. Afterward, he was impeccably polite—the perfect gentleman. Then news came: my sister nearly died in childbirth overseas. Ernie locked himself in his study, smoking till dawn. The next day, endless boxes of premium vitamins, supplements, and rich foods arrived. I thought he cared about my future pregnancies. That warmth lasted until I nearly died delivering an oversized baby, forced by all that nutrition. When he heard I’d survived, his eyes were hollow. “She must have suffered so much,” he murmured. Later, my sister complained her baby pulled her hair. That night, Ernie hacked off mine with shears, calling it practical for newborn care. When she sprained her ankle, I fell down stairs, in a cast for three months. When she cut her finger chopping vegetables, he shattered a crystal glass into my palm. News broke: my sister died in a car crash abroad. Ernie dragged me to the city’s highest suspension bridge, plunging us into icy water. His last words: “You were only ever her shadow. If she’s dead, you have no right to breathe.” I woke back in the moment he came to finalize our engagement. Stella had already slipped away. He looked at me coldly. “It’ll have to be you.” A laugh escaped my lips. “Mr. Crawford, I already love someone else. Find your replacement elsewhere.” My words hung in the air. Ernie’s gaze swept over my face like I was completely invisible. He turned slightly and gave my father a stiff nod. "Then it is settled. The engagement gifts will be delivered tomorrow." My parents were drowning in guilt over Stella’s escape. They nodded eagerly, practically bowing to him. I gripped my phone tight under the table. My fingers were trembling as I typed out a quick message to Roman Blackwood, the undisputed, ruthless king of the Manhattan elite. "Hello. Let us get married." My heart was lodged in my throat. A second later, the screen lit up. "Done." "Next Wednesday. It is a perfect day for a wedding." I stood up and shoved the phone screen right in front of Ernie’s face. "Ernie, I told you I have someone." He smacked my hand away without even blinking. The phone clattered onto the hardwood floor. He looked at my mother instead and said to make sure the wedding favors were from Maison Blanc. Stella always loved their macarons. My parents chimed in instantly. They said it was a beautiful way to include Stella in the ceremony. My chest heaved. I told them I was not marrying him. Ernie acted completely deaf. He stood up, adjusted his cuffs, and offered a polite nod. "Mr. and Mrs. Astor, I will take my leave." I raised my voice, calling his full name. He finally looked at me. His eyes were like chipped ice. "My assistant will pick you up tomorrow for your dress fitting. Be on time." A sickening wave of exhaustion washed over me. He was always exactly like this. He could remember every single reason Stella ever frowned. If her tone over the phone was slightly off, he would drive three hundred miles in the dead of night just to see her. But I was nothing more than a stray dog to him. When he was in a good mood, he might pat my head. When he was upset, I was less than dirt. In his eyes, I had no right to complain, no right to say no, and absolutely no right to exist as my own person. I stared at his retreating back and let my voice drop to a freezing whisper. "Ernie, you do not love me, and I do not love you. There is no need to force this." His footsteps stopped. He turned around. His brow was heavy with dark annoyance, like he was tolerating a buzzing fly. "Wendy." His tone was flat. "Playing hard to get is cute once or twice. Anything more than that, and you will drain my patience." He checked his platinum watch. "Tomorrow. Be on time. Pick a dress in thirty minutes and do not waste my employee’s valuable time." Our marriage was nothing but an administrative task to him. Something to be handled in thirty minutes. He walked out the door before I could even take a breath. The moment the lock clicked, my father’s face twisted in rage. He screamed at me, asking if I was out of my mind. He demanded to know what garbage I was spouting about having someone else. He said if I ruined this alliance after my sister ran away, the Astor family would be the laughingstock of high society. I stared back at him, my blood boiling. "Stella gets to run away. Why do I have to be the sacrificial lamb?" A sharp crack echoed through the room. The force of my father’s slap threw my head to the side. My cheek burned like fire. He pointed a shaking finger right between my eyes. "Do you really think you are on her level?" "Your sister is brilliant. She knows what she wants. If she wants to leave, I let her leave. But you? What have you ever done besides trail after Ernie like a pathetic puppy?" "He is willing to take you, and you actually have the nerve to put on airs." My mother sighed heavily from the sofa. "Wendy, throwing a little tantrum is cute, but you need to read the room. No man will put up with a woman who does not know her place." My father scoffed. He ordered me to go to the fitting tomorrow and apologize to Ernie. I pressed my hand to my stinging cheek and said absolutely nothing. It was a bitter pill to swallow. I was not just Stella’s replacement to Ernie. I was her replacement to my own parents, too. The next day at the bridal boutique, Ernie was a no-show. His executive assistant, Vanessa, escorted me inside while casually picking at her expensive manicure. "Miss Astor, please hurry. Mr. Crawford only authorized thirty minutes for this." I pointed at the plainest white gown hanging in the corner. "That one. I am in a rush." Roman was texting me, asking about our venue preferences. Vanessa did not move an inch. "Miss Astor, Mr. Crawford is not here. You can drop the act." I frowned. She looked at me with a mocking smirk. "You chased him for years. You dreamed of this day. And now you are pretending to be aloof?" "You are just picking a cheap dress on purpose so I will call him, hoping he will feel guilty and rush over here to comfort you." She laughed out loud. "Your pathetic little tricks are exactly what everyone said they were." I did not know who "everyone" was, and I did not care. I ignored her, grabbed the heavy silk gown, and walked straight into the fitting room. I had just unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it when the thick velvet curtain was violently ripped open from the outside. My nearly naked body was exposed to the entire boutique floor. "Miss Astor!" Vanessa gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Her voice was loud enough to echo across the high ceilings. "Why would you throw the curtain open? Do you get off on exposing yourself? Is this how you usually seduce Mr. Crawford?" Dozens of judging eyes snapped toward me, burning into my skin. I snatched the dress up to cover my chest. Without a single second of hesitation, I swung my free hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had. The boutique fell dead silent. Vanessa shrieked. "How dare you hit me?" She whipped out her phone, her voice instantly trembling with fake tears. "Mr. Crawford, I am so sorry. I must have served her poorly. Miss Astor is furious..." Less than ten minutes later, Ernie’s private security detail stormed the floor. Before I could even speak, two massive men grabbed my arms, twisting them behind my back and forcing me to bend forward. A third bodyguard stepped up to Vanessa and bowed his head slightly. He told her Mr. Crawford sent his apologies for her distress. He cast a freezing look at me and muttered that some people needed to learn a lesson. Vanessa wiped her fake tears, a triumphant flush spreading across her cheeks. I was dragged out of the boutique, shoved into the back of a tinted SUV, and driven straight to a remote estate in the hills. They tossed me onto the living room floor like a bag of garbage. My knees slammed into the edge of a marble coffee table. The pain made me gasp for air. Footsteps echoed behind me. Ernie walked in, looking down at me from his towering height. "You are not even my wife yet, and you are already throwing your weight around?" His gaze was completely devoid of warmth. "Let me make something very clear. The women who scrub my floors have more status in my world than you do." "You better learn to play nice with my staff, or your life after the wedding will be a living hell." My fingernails dug into my palms. "Your assistant ripped the curtain open while I was changing. She exposed me on purpose." "Enough." He cut me off, a flicker of pure disgust crossing his face. "Have you ever considered that you are the problem? When your sister was by my side, my staff never acted like this." He turned on his heel and barked an order at the guards by the door. "Cut the water and the power. Let her sit in the dark and think about what she has done for three days." I lunged for the door, but the heavy oak slammed shut right in my face. The deadbolt clicked. Three full days. I grew so thirsty I drank the stale, murky water sitting in a crystal flower vase. I was so starved I ripped the bitter leaves off a decorative potted plant and chewed them until my jaw ached. I lost track of time. Eventually, the electronic keypad on the front door beeped. A tall figure stumbled inside, reeking of expensive scotch. It was Ernie. His glassy eyes locked onto me where I was curled up in the corner of the dark room. He suddenly dropped to his knees and crushed his burning lips against mine. My entire body froze into a block of ice. A second later, his lips brushed against mine as he whispered. "Stella." That single name felt like a jagged blade twisting into my chest. I shoved him away with the last ounce of strength I had left in my starving body. My voice was trembling. "Look at me, Ernie. Look at exactly who I am." He blinked, his eyes finally focusing on my face in the dim moonlight. He leaned in again, his mouth curving into a cruel sneer. "Congratulations. You finally have me exactly where you want me. You must be dying of excitement." I pulled my knee up and drove it violently into his stomach. I snatched a silver fruit knife off the coffee table and gripped the handle tight. "Do not touch me." Ernie’s face darkened instantly. He stared at me for several long seconds. Then, a cold laugh escaped his throat. "I have to admit, you play the tortured victim quite well." My grip on the knife stiffened. "All this playing hard to get... you are just copying your sister's personality to turn me on, aren't you?" He lunged forward and gripped my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin. "Drop the pathetic act. You will never replace her." "Take your clothes off. Do your job tonight, and I will give you the dignity of being my wife. Otherwise." Before he could finish his threat, I swung my arm. The blade sliced across his forearm. Hot blood immediately soaked through the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt. I stared dead into his eyes. "I said, do not touch me." Ernie looked down at his bleeding arm in absolute disbelief. When he looked back up at me, a terrifying rage was boiling in his eyes. "Fine, Wendy." He laughed, a dark, venomous sound, and stood up. "Do not regret this." He walked out, leaving the front door wide open. I stumbled out into the cold night air and somehow made it back to my family’s house. The moment I walked in, my father hurled his porcelain teacup at my feet. It shattered into a hundred pieces. "You stabbed Ernie?" His finger shook as he pointed it at my face. I tried to explain, my breathing ragged. "He locked me up for three days. No food, no water. He tried to force himself." "It is a privilege that he even wants to touch you." My mother cut me off, her face twisted in disappointment. "So what if he locked you up? You are about to be his wife. If he wants to lock you up for the rest of your life, you smile and take it." My father stepped closer. "You are nothing compared to your sister. Why won't you use your body to tie him down while you still have your youth? How did I raise such a useless idiot?" I looked back and forth between their furious faces. It felt like a giant hand had reached into my chest, squeezing my heart until every last drop of warmth was gone. My father slammed his hand on the dining table. "You will stay in your room until the wedding. Learn some manners so you do not embarrass us any further." Three days later, on Wednesday, the wedding day arrived. My parents practically dragged me to the cathedral. Nine o'clock passed. Then ten. Then eleven. Ernie did not show up. The pews were packed with New York’s elite, and the whispers grew deafening. "I heard Ernie found a girl downtown who looks just like Stella." "Yeah, apparently she threw a fit this morning and refused to walk. Ernie carried her into his corner office in front of the whole board. They are probably still in there." "Wow. So what happens to the Astor girl?" My father stood behind me. He threw his glass of champagne onto the marble floor. "When Stella was around, Ernie never dared to pull a stunt like this." He grabbed a handful of my veil and yanked my head back. "You useless piece of trash. You are making us look like fools." My mother sat beside me, dabbing fake tears with a tissue. "I gave birth to both of you. How did you turn out so defective? You cannot even keep a man’s attention for one day." I sat in the front pew, perfectly still. The heavy oak doors creaked open. Vanessa walked in, a smug smile plastered across her face. Behind her, a bodyguard was struggling to hold a massive, mud-covered hunting hound on a thick leather leash. He let the dog go, and it immediately shook itself, splattering wet mud all over my pure white gown. The smell of wet dog and swamp dirt filled the air. "Mr. Crawford was delayed by an urgent matter," Vanessa announced, projecting her voice. "Miss Astor, you will have to walk down the aisle with Duke. Mr. Crawford will arrive later for the ring exchange." My father shot out of his seat. "Walk down the aisle with a dog? Are you out of your mind?" Vanessa crossed her arms. "Mr. Crawford said she marries the dog, or the wedding is off. Your call." My father’s protests died in his throat. He glared at me with pure venom, blaming me for every ounce of humiliation he was feeling. My mother shoved my shoulder. "Listen to Ernie." A twisted sense of relief washed over her face. "Thank God it is you up there. If Stella had to go through this, it would break my heart." I looked at her. I did not say a single word. I looked down at my phone, dropped a location pin to Roman, and locked the screen. I linked my arm through my father’s and walked down the long, agonizing aisle toward the muddy dog. He handed me off to the hound. Behind me, the sound of camera shutters and muffled laughter echoed through the vaulted ceilings. "She is so desperate for his money." "She brought this on herself. She chased him for twenty years. She would probably marry a pig if it meant getting the Crawford last name." Just as the priest cleared his throat to start the mockery of a ceremony, the deafening roar of a sports car engine rattled the stained glass windows. I stood up and turned toward the entrance. Ernie stepped out of a sleek black car. In his hand, he held a pair of sharp steel scissors. "Stella cut her hair into a bob today. She is vacationing in Monaco." He walked up the aisle and held the scissors out to me. "Cut your hair. Take off the dress. Put on some jeans and a T-shirt." I stood my ground. I did not move. My father shoved me hard from behind. "What are you waiting for? Do what he says." I still did not move. My eyes drifted past the crowd, looking out the massive open doors toward the winding coastal highway below the church. Ernie let out a cold laugh. "You really never learn, do you?" "Wendy, save your cheap tricks. Do you honestly think acting stubborn is going to make me desire you?" He threw the scissors at my chest. They clattered to the stone floor. "Playing hard to get is only fun until you become a pathetic joke." I kept my mouth shut. My ears caught a new sound. The deep, heavy rumble of motorcycles. Slowly, a flash of brilliant red appeared on the horizon. A custom Ducati tore up the mountain road, kicking up a storm of dust. And right behind it was an endless, terrifying convoy of over a hundred matte-black luxury SUVs. "Who is that?" "What is going on? Did someone else rent out the mountain today?" The guests erupted into a frenzy of panicked whispers. Ernie’s brow furrowed into a deep, angry V. I stepped over the scissors and walked straight toward the church doors. Ernie’s face went dark. "Wendy. Get back here right now. Do not test my temper." I ignored him completely. The red motorcycle skidded to a halt right in front of the cathedral steps. In one fluid motion, the rider wrapped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him. Behind us, over a hundred black cars laid on their horns in perfect unison. The sky exploded. Daylight fireworks shot into the air, raining gold and crimson smoke over the entire estate.
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