Morgan stroked his beard, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
This was exactly what he wanted.
Beside him, Darren could barely contain his grin.
"Fine," Amelia said, her eyes narrowing at me. "Since someone doesn't know what's good for him, he can't blame me for being heartless."
She took Darren's hand and turned to face the crowd. "Today, my groom is Darren Blake!"
Morgan led the applause.
The entire hall erupted in thunderous clapping.
They saw that the Sullivans had cast me aside completely, and with that, whatever fear they'd had of me vanished.
I let out a cold laugh and turned to leave.
But Darren spoke up.
"Mervyn."
"You think this is a place you can waltz in and out of as you please?"
"You think you can run around using the Henson name to con people and just walk away?"
"The Hensons are sending someone to congratulate the bride any minute now. When they get here, I'll hand you over to them personally."
His eyes glittered with mockery. He wasn't done humiliating me.
Morgan nodded approvingly, casting Darren a look of admiration. The promise of that connection had clearly won him over.
"Seize him!" Amelia ordered first, then let a smile creep across her lips. "Mervyn, why don't you sit back and enjoy this wedding of the century—the one that was supposed to be ours."
Every trace of innocence and love had drained from her eyes. All that remained was ice and venom.
"I hope you won't regret this."
I looked at her and drew a long breath. The bodyguards didn't need to drag me. I found a seat and sat down on my own.
But it wasn't over.
At a glance from Darren, several bodyguards rushed me.
I tried to fight back, but they outnumbered me. Within seconds, my arms were wrenched behind me and bound tight.
One of them grabbed a wine bottle off a table and leered down at me.
"Trying to steal Darren's woman? You've got a death wish."
"You used to be the Sullivan family's live-in son-in-law. Now you're nothing."
"Call me 'sir' and I might go easy on you. Otherwise, I'll make sure you remember this."
I glared at him.
The bottle came down on my skull.
Blinding pain.
Blood ran from my hairline, streaming down and blurring my vision.
Amelia watched the whole thing. She didn't flinch. She smirked.
My heart plummeted into a frozen abyss.
Five years living under the same roof. Five years of longing from across an ocean. Ten years of devotion—even a stray dog would wag its tail after that long.
Yet Amelia didn't spare a shred of sentiment. She stood there and let them beat me in front of everyone.
Morgan didn't even glance my way. As far as he was concerned, I didn't exist.
Dead or alive, it made no difference.
I held no value whatsoever.
Onstage, under the officiant's direction, Darren and Amelia exchanged rings.
Then they kissed.
Another roar of applause—and two more bottles shattered against my head.
Blood soaked through my hair, matting it to my face.
My consciousness flickered. The world tilted. Through the ringing in my ears, I could hear Darren and Amelia laughing, giddy with happiness.
"Miss Henson of the Crestworth Hensons has arrived!"
A voice cut through the hall like a blade.
I forced my head up. Through the blood in my eyes, I saw her—my sister—striding into the venue with an entourage at her back.
Morgan, Amelia, and Darren all snapped to attention. They hurried forward to greet her.
"Miss Henson, what an honor!" Morgan beamed, practically bowing. "Your presence truly graces our humble celebration!"
Summer Henson returned a polite smile, then let her gaze drift to Amelia and Darren. Her eyes moved between them, and a flicker of confusion crossed her face.
"Where's my brother?"
Three quiet words—but they landed like a thunderclap. The entire hall went silent.
Morgan, Amelia, and Darren exchanged a glance. Something seemed to click. All three of them turned sharply toward me.
