The night before my wedding, someone slipped a hotel VIP keycard under my door. The room number was the same one where Sean Locke proposed to me three years ago. I thought it was his little pre-wedding surprise. Something romantic. So I went. But when I pushed the door open, the heavy scent of arousal hit my nose — and I saw him tangled in the bed with another woman. Only after he finished did he lazily push the woman out of his arms. He lit a cigarette. Through the smoke, he smiled — careless, almost bored. "Nothing dramatic. I'm just tired of hiding it. Better you find out now — saves me the talk after the wedding." "Relax. You're still my only Mrs. Locke." "You've been mine for ten years, Ivy. In those ten years, you've made enemies with half the Families in this city. You don't marry me? No one else in this life is gonna take you." "So tomorrow, everything goes as planned. Only —" "You get the wedding. She gets the marriage license." He thought I'd at least ask why. I didn't. I quietly slid the engagement ring off my finger, set it down, and walked out. The wedding was at St. Cecilia's Cathedral. East side of the city. "She's here! The bride is finally here!" Cameras lined the hotel entrance. Flashes went off before I even stepped out. "Miss Kingsley! How are you feeling on your big day?" "Miss Kingsley! Any comment on the wedding of the century?" I said nothing. My bodyguards cleared a path. I slid into the black car. Sean stood on the steps in his white tuxedo, wearing the smile of a man who had everything under control. He'd called me that morning. Said he was worn out from last night. Seven rounds. He needed to sleep. Said he couldn't come pick me up. Because he was certain I'd show up anyway. Chase Bennett — Sean's underboss — was the first to whistle. "She actually came, Don Locke." "Only the Boss could pull this off. Screws another woman the night before, and the bride still walks in wearing white. That's what we call training her right." Jordan Wells, one of the Wells Family's boys down from Boston for the wedding, raised his glass toward Sean with a smirk. "Respect, Don Locke. Anyone else would've been wrecked after a night like that. You're still standing here in the tux. That's a man." The others laughed along. Sean's lips barely moved. "Ivy's been mine for ten years." His voice was flat. "Besides marrying me, who'd take her?" He glanced down at his hand. At the empty ring finger on mine. "She's throwing a fit. It's fine." He paused. "She'll still walk down that aisle. She'll still put her hand in mine." Chase gave a thumbs up. The car door opened. I stepped out. Sunlight caught the dress. A hundred cameras clicked at once. Something almost like awe flickered across Sean's face. "Damn." Under his breath. "My wife looks beautiful in a wedding dress." He started toward me. Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His mouth twitched up. He stepped away to answer. "What is it? Didn't I tell you to call later?" A soft, syrupy voice came through the speaker. "Sean-baby. I'm flying out this afternoon. I booked City Hall — ten minutes from now. Come sign it with me? I don't wanna leave without the paper." "Ten minutes?" Sean laughed low. "In a rush?" ... He hung up. Chase leaned in. "Who was that?" "Sadie." Sean pocketed the phone. His eyes were bright. "She's flying out this afternoon. Won't leave without signing. You know how she gets." Chase raised a brow. "And the wedding —?" "Relax. Ceremony runs an hour or two. City Hall's ten minutes. In and out. That girl's a handful — if I don't handle her right, she'll cry at the airport. I'm not dealing with that." Sean walked over. Slid an arm around my shoulders. Signaled the photographer. "One quick shot. For the memory book." Click. He checked his watch. "Alright. That's it. I gotta go, or I'll miss the appointment." He turned and strode toward the other car. "Sean Locke!" I stood where I was and called out to him. His steps paused. He turned back to look at me. That same careless, everything-under-control look in his eyes. "If you walk out today," I said, one word at a time, "I'm changing the groom for this wedding."
He froze for a second. Then he laughed — low and dismissive, like I'd told him a bad joke. "Change grooms? Where are you gonna find one? You think life is a TV drama?" "Everyone in New York knows you're mine." He shrugged. "But sure — if you actually manage to find a man who dares marry you, I'll allow it." He pulled the car door open, then tossed a lazy line over his shoulder: "Don't act out, baby. Be good. Wait for me. Whatever wild stuff you're thinking, I know how to handle it. Yeah?" The groomsmen behind him traded uneasy looks. Chase jogged two steps after him. "Boss — you're really leaving?" "Cover for me. I'm not gone forever." Sean shut the car door. There was a rush in his voice now. "That girl's impossible. I'm not making it worse for myself." The engine turned over. The car peeled off. I stood there. The wind caught the hem of my dress. The photographer lowered his camera. Didn't know where to look. Nobody spoke. I looked down at my left hand. Empty ring finger. Slowly, the corner of my mouth curved up. Fine, Sean. Go. Go get your paper. But this million-dollar wedding of the century — I'll gladly take it. I lifted the skirt of my dress and walked up the steps. The cathedral doors opened. Guests were already seated. Officiant at the altar. Organist playing the wedding march. Everything was perfect. Except there was no groom. Chase caught up in the aisle, forcing on a smile. "Ivy — the Boss had something urgent. He'll be back in no time. Just sit for a minute." Jordan appeared at my other elbow, playing along. "Yeah, yeah. Don Locke always knows what he's doing. It's your big day. He'll be here." "For real. The Boss has never dropped the ball on anything big." I glanced at the clock above the altar. Ten-forty. "Fine," I said quietly. "I'll wait." Chase exhaled like he'd just dodged a bullet. Snapped his fingers at a waiter to bring me water. I sat down in the front pew. I let them think I was waiting for Sean. But who I was really waiting for — that's none of their business. ... This wedding had been three months in the making. Every important name on Sean's side was in the pews. Every capo. Every allied Family. Every associate who mattered. My eyes moved slowly, taking in every detail. The wall of white roses by the tall windows. The crystal beads dripping from the arched ceiling. Even the guest cards on the seats — the font had been custom-designed just for tonight. That's Sean Locke for you. When he does a thing, he does it all the way. Chased me that way. Planned this wedding that way. He turned it into the wedding of the century. The kind every woman dreams of. And he cheated on me the same way. No room to walk it back. No explanation offered. In his head, loving me and destroying me had never once been in conflict. And my only option was to accept it. ... Back in the bridal suite, Harper — my best friend, flown in all the way from Sydney to be my maid of honor — held up my train, seething. "Is Sean Locke out of his mind? On your wedding day, he runs off to sign paperwork with another woman? Did somebody drop him on his head?" She dropped down beside me and yanked at her own bridesmaid dress. "I thought he was just running his mouth. Fine, he wants a mistress — but did he really have to pick *today*?" "When you two were planning this thing, he flew across the state just to find the right florist. When you tried on your dress, his eyes went red before yours did." "I was so jealous of you back then, I picked a fight with my own boyfriend just because he couldn't compare." She paused. Her voice dropped. "Who would've guessed — one turn of the head, and he does *this*?" I didn't answer. I was staring at my phone. Sadie had just posted a new story. The photo was of a hotel floor — men's dress shirt and a woman's lingerie tossed on the carpet. Caption: "Someone said he'd only stay ten minutes… and now he can't bear to leave~" She'd tagged the location on purpose. It wasn't City Hall. A mutual friend had already commented: "Sadie, girl, are you trying to piss somebody off?" Sadie's reply: "Whoever's waiting at a wedding in her dress, I guess. ?" I screenshotted it without a change in expression. "Ivy — please. Stop waiting for him." Harper snatched the phone from my hand. "*Look* at these people!" "You dropped out of London and flew home for that man. Do you remember how furious your parents were?" "Back then, Sean Locke was nothing. A nobody with no name, no crew, no protection. And you had the guts to bet ten years against your family for him. And now you've lost everything." "If you hadn't burned every favor your father's name carried, quietly pulling strings behind the scenes, opening doors with the Families that would never have opened for him — you think he'd be sitting on a Don's chair today?" "And he turns around and gets cozy with some capo's daughter!" "I don't know how he hid it this long. He faked it right up to the night before the wedding — that's when he decides to let you catch him at another woman's hotel!" "Ivy — stop waiting for him. It's time you lived for yourself." "Harper." I finally spoke. "Thank you for being here today." "After the wedding, I'll go home. I'll face my parents. I'll admit I lost." A bet's a bet. Time to pay up. Today was the day I paid.
I calmed Harper down, then calmed myself. I walked to the balcony at the end of the corridor to get some air. Just as I reached for the door, I heard the groomsmen's voices from the other side. Hiding out here, smoking. "So — the Boss really isn't coming back?" "He says Sadie's glued to him. Can't peel her off. Told us to keep stalling." "How long you think Ivy's gonna sit there and eat it? Look at her — dress on, aisle ready, groom gone. Didn't even blink." "A wife like that." Jordan whistled low. "The Boss really doesn't know how good he's got it." "The Boss ain't thinking straight right now. That Sadie's got him strung out. He's cooked." The others laughed. Then someone dialed a video call. "Boss — finally! Ivy's still waiting out there, man. It's not a good look if you don't come back." A woman's soft, breathy sound came through the phone. "You can't see I'm busy?" Sean's voice came through — irritated, thick with sex. "Not coming. Just keep the guests entertained, that's all I need." "Alright, alright. You do you, Boss." Chase grinned. "Ivy's easy to smooth over anyway —" Before he could finish, I pushed the balcony door open. Every smile in the room froze. Chase shoved the phone behind his back. "Iv— Ivy…" I looked at them, face flat. "The wedding starts in three minutes." "What are you doing out here?" "Three hundred guests in there. You want them sitting there waiting? Or would you rather they sit and watch a joke?" The moment I finished, someone snorted a laugh. "Ivy, c'mon." Jordan waved his hand, still snickering. "Three minutes? Not enough. Our Boss doesn't finish that fast. He can't make it —" "Enough." I cut him off. Calm. Then turned and walked away. Chase remembered the video call was still open. He glanced at the screen. "Boss — Ivy says the ceremony starts in three minutes. Move." From the phone came Sean's low, lazy laugh — the sound of a man not done with what he was doing. "Three minutes?" "Does my wife misunderstand my stamina?" The woman giggled through the speaker and murmured something sweet. "Boss —" Chase asked quietly. "So… what do we —" Silence for two seconds. Then Sean's voice, impatient: "Cover for me. Hold the room down. I'll come when I'm done here." When he said done, the woman on his end made another soft sound. Chase hung up fast. They stubbed out their cigarettes, straightened their suits, and filed out behind me. Jordan caught up beside me. Lowered his voice. "Ivy, look — you've been with the Boss ten years. We all know he's got you in his heart. It's just… guys are guys. Nature of the life, you know?" I didn't look at him. Didn't answer. The truth was — until yesterday, I hadn't wanted to believe it either. I hadn't wanted to believe Sean Locke would fall for a new toy. Sadie was the only daughter of an old associate — a made man whose gun-running routes had been feeding Sean's operations for years. Fresh out of college. Ever since he met her at a Family celebration, his eyes had gone different. Back then I told myself I was imagining it. Ten years together — if I didn't know him, I wouldn't have lasted this long. So the strange silences. The late-night messages he stopped answering. I let myself buy every excuse. I refused to believe that after everything — after clawing our way back from ashes — we'd lose to a girl fresh out of school. But he got impatient with hiding it. He stopped covering his tracks. Started letting me catch him on purpose. Then dressed the betrayal up like a favor: "A man like me — you really thought I'd only have one woman? But my heart is yours. Nobody sits in Mrs. Locke's chair but you." Expecting me to be grateful. Harper was right. He was too good at faking it. Faked it right up to the night before the wedding, and only then tore the mask off — using the cruelest possible way to make me see, hear, feel exactly what I meant to him. "Ivy — walk slow on the aisle, yeah? We got your back from behind." "Yeah. The Boss said he'll be here soon. Just walk through it up front." They thought I'd walk the aisle alone. They thought I'd stand at the altar in white, smile at the empty groom's spot, and say I do to no one. That was the script Sean Locke left for me. ... The groomsmen stood on either side of me, still wearing that same everything-under-control smile. The cathedral doors slowly opened. Backlit in the doorway stood a man. And every smile in the room froze.
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