« ALARIC'S POV »
The days leading up to the wedding were a fucking headache.
Every day followed the same routine. Mornings were spent handling the endless demands of both the syndicate and Hamilton Global, the technology empire I controlled. Meetings, acquisitions, security reports, AI development projects, cloud infrastructure contracts, hardware launches, legal disputes. The workload never ended. By night, I was dragged into wedding preparations for a ceremony that was never supposed to mean anything.
At least, that had been the agreement.
I'd made that clear from the beginning.
Margaret apparently hadn't gotten the memo.
Every minor detail somehow became a three-hour debate. Flowers, table settings, lighting, music, guest lists, decorations. I was reaching the point where hearing the word "wedding" made me want to walk out of the room.
One afternoon, Margaret pulled out a dusty box filled with old letters. She sat beside me on the couch and unfolded them one by one, smiling as if she'd uncovered buried treasure.
"Look at this," she said with a laugh. "You wrote that we'd get married by the sea someday. And here, you promised you'd buy me a huge house with a garden. You even said we'd have three kids."
I barely looked up from the report in my hands.
"Hm."
Her smile weakened. "You remember these, don't you? Back then, we talked about our future every day. We planned everything."
I rubbed my temple. The headache that had been building all week intensified.
"Marga," I removed her arms from around my neck, "you can handle the wedding arrangements yourself. I don't care what flowers you choose, what color the ribbons are, or what kind of centerpieces you want. Just make the decisions and tell people what the fuck to do."
She stared at me. "But this is our wedding!"
"No," I said immediately. "It's your wedding."
The room fell silent.
The disappointment on her face was obvious, but I was too exhausted to care. For weeks, every thought had somehow circled back to Olivia.
While reviewing contracts, I thought about Olivia.
While attending board meetings, I thought about Olivia.
Even while Margaret talked, half my attention was somewhere else... With Olivia.
Soon.
Just a little longer.
Once this was finished, I'd make things right.
I had to. I owed her that much.
Maybe more.
Hell, I probably owed her everything.
...
That night, after Margaret finally left, I remained alone in my office.
The top floors of Hamilton tower were quiet after midnight. The city lights glowed through the glass walls while darkness filled the empty building.
I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out a small black box.
For a long moment, I simply stared at it.
Then I opened it. Inside sat a wedding ring. Exactly where I'd left it eight years ago.
I still remembered the day Olivia threw it at me. The hatred in her eyes. The way her hands shook. The way she looked at me like I was the last person she'd ever trust again.
I picked up the ring and turned it over in my palm.
For eight years, I'd kept it. Protected it. And waited.
I waited for Olivia to come home.
And when she finally did...
I managed to screw everything up all over again.
"Fuck," I muttered.
Leaning back in my chair, I laughed bitterly.
Maybe I really was an asshole.
No.
There was no maybe about it.
I grabbed my phone and opened our chat history.
After staring at the screen for a while, I finally typed:
"Baby, I remember you always wanted to see Norway. How about we leave in a few days? Just the two of us. We'll stay as long as you want and forget everything for a while."
I stared at the message and hit send.
A second later, a red exclamation mark appeared.
I frowned.
What the fuck?
Blocked?
I refreshed the chat but still blocked.
A short, humorless laugh escaped me.
"Seriously?"
I tossed the phone onto the desk.
Fine!
She was angry and I understood that. But how long was she planning to punish me?
Eventually, I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow was the wedding.
After 1 month, everything would finally be over.
Or so I thought.
The moment I arrived at the venue the next day, I knew something was wrong.
Luxury cars lined the entrance. Media vans filled the parking lot. Reporters crowded the front steps.
Cameras were everywhere. Influencers streamed live from their phones and guests I didn't recognize filled the property.
My expression darkened immediately.
What the fuck is this?
I spotted Margaret greeting people near the entrance and walked straight toward her.
"Marga," I grabbed her wrist, "we need to talk. Right now."
She blinked, then smiled.
I dragged her into a private room and shut the door behind us.
"What the fuck is going on?" I asked. "Who invited all those reporters? Why are there cameras everywhere?"
"Oh," she said casually. "That."
I immediately knew I wasn't going to like the answer.
"I invited them."
"You fucking did what?"
Margaret stepped closer, excitement shining in her eyes.
"It's our wedding. I wanted everyone to witness it. Not just the reporters either. I invited some of our supporters online, the people who've been cheering for us all these years."
My jaw tightened. "We agreed this would be private."
She ignored me. "Everyone supports us, Alaric. They know we're perfect together. They know I belong with you, not Olivia. If your parents hadn't interfered years ago, we'd already have a family by now."
She moved closer and brushed her nose against my chin.
Years ago, that would've worked but now I felt nothing.
I stepped back and her smile disappeared.
"Marga," I said coldly, "we had an agreement. You wanted me to fulfill your wishes, and I did. You wanted this wedding, and I gave it to you. You wanted me to stay and play along, and I fucking did."
Her face turned pale.
I continued. "I've completed all your wishes. After this wedding, I'll stay for one more month. That's my final promise. After that month ends, we're done. Completely."
Her lips trembled.
"Alaric—"
"No," I interrupted. "Listen carefully. I don't care how many reporters are outside. I don't care how many people support us. I don't care what the internet thinks. I am never getting back together with you."
The room fell silent.
Then I finally said the truth I'd been avoiding for weeks.
"I love Olivia," I said. "I already failed her once. I abandoned her once. I'm not making that mistake again."
Margaret stared at me.
Frozen.
The smile she'd worn all day shattered completely.
