The soft chime of the gallery door broke my spiral.
I turned around, pasting on my professional, perfectly composed smile. But the smile died instantly on my lips.
Kaelen stood in the doorway.
He was as imposing and dark as ever, dressed in a sharp, charcoal suit that seemed to swallow the light in the room.
"Kaelen," I said, my voice tight, my hands instinctively gripping the edge of the reception desk. "We're closed for a private viewing."
He ignored me. He walked slowly across the gallery floor, his purposeful strides echoing in the quiet room, until he was standing just inches away.
"Silas is making a fool of you, Vivienne," Kaelen said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in my chest. "Call off the wedding."
My pride flared, hot and defensive. I already knew Silas was a monster, but hearing it from Kaelen—the man I had spent five years running from, the man whose suffocating obsession had driven me into Silas’s arms in the first place—felt like a jagged knife twisting in my ribs. I wasn't about to let him gloat over my ruined life.
"What I do with my fiancé is none of your business," I snapped, lifting my chin to meet his intense gaze. "I chose Silas. I chose him specifically because he is everything you are not. I wanted peace, Kaelen. Not your suffocating control. And I don't regret it."
Kaelen’s jaw clenched. A muscle feathered in his cheek, his dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, volatile emotion.
"Loyal to a fault," he murmured, his tone dripping with a dark, bitter pity that made my stomach churn. "It’s a shame he doesn't share the sentiment."
Instead of arguing, Kaelen reached into his tailored jacket, pulled out his phone, and turned the screen toward me.
"Look at the man you chose, Vivienne."
It was a video. The background was unmistakable—the snowy, dimly lit balcony of the Chamonix ski chalet. Silas was in the center of the frame. He was laughing, reaching out, and pulling a blonde woman into his arms.
Then, the woman turned her head, laughing as she looked up at him, and the breath was violently punched from my lungs.
It wasn't just a stranger. It wasn't just some random woman from an anonymous forum.
It was Carla.
My maid of honor. My best friend since childhood. The woman who had held my hand while I picked out my wedding dress, who had dried my tears when I was terrified of Kaelen finding me, who had toasted to my "happily ever after" just three nights ago.
Silas slammed Carla against the snowbank, his hands tangling in her familiar blonde hair, and kissed her. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was hungry, passionate, and entirely willing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
The sheer, visceral horror hit me like a physical blow. A double betrayal so profound, so deeply sickening, that the floor seemed to drop out from beneath me.
My chest tightened so violently I couldn't draw a breath. A high-pitched ringing started in my ears, drowning out the ambient noise of the gallery.
My knees buckled.
The gallery walls spun violently around me as my vision faded to black. Before I could hit the hardwood floor, Kaelen lunged forward. His strong arms wrapped securely around my waist, catching me effortlessly against his solid, warm chest.
When I finally opened my eyes, the harsh, bright lights of the gallery were gone.
The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.
I was lying in my own bed at the penthouse, the heavy silk duvet pulled up to my chin.
Someone was holding my hand.
"Vivienne, darling!"
I slowly turned my head. He was sitting beside the bed, still in his work suit but looking perfectly disheveled.
"I came home early and found you passed out in the gallery," he lied smoothly, squeezing my hand as if he were terrified of letting me go.
Kaelen must have brought me back and left before Silas arrived.
"The doctor came by," Silas continued, his thumb stroking my knuckles. "He said it was a severe panic attack brought on by exhaustion. You've been overworking yourself with the wedding preparations, my love. You need to rest. I was so terrified."
I stared into his deep, soulful eyes. The eyes that had looked at me with such fake devotion. The eyes that had watched my best friend in the snow just days ago.
A wave of absolute, sickening disgust churned in my stomach. I wanted to rip my hand away.
I wanted to scream at him, to claw at his perfect, lying face.
But I thought of the trap he and Carla had set. I thought of the public humiliation they had planned for me.
So, I forced the corners of my mouth up. I pushed down the bile rising in my throat and forced a weak, grateful smile.
"I'm okay, Silas," I whispered, my voice trembling perfectly, playing the fragile, exhausted bride. "I'm just glad you're here."
"Get some sleep," he murmured softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I'll be right outside in the study if you need me. Rest well, my little snowdrop."
He stood up and walked out of the room. The heavy door clicked shut behind him.
The air in my lungs instantly turned to ice.
Snowdrop.
Carla's favorite flower. The ones she had insisted we include in my bridal bouquet. The username from the forum.
He had spent so much time with her, so much time wrapping himself in her, that he had carelessly slipped and called me by my best friend's pet name.
A single, agonizing tear slipped down my cheek, hot and bitter against my cold skin.
I sat up slowly, my hands trembling as I reached for the blazer Kaelen had draped over the armchair before he left.
I reached into the pocket and pulled out a sleek, matte-black business card.
I stared at the silver embossed numbers for a long moment. I was about to invite the devil back into my life.
I was about to make a deal with the very monster I had spent five years running from.
But as I looked at the empty space beside me in the bed, I realized the true monsters were already in my life, pretending to love me.
I picked up my phone, dialed the number, and held it to my ear.
It rang only once before a low, dark voice answered.
"I knew you'd call."
I closed my eyes, the heartbreak solidifying into pure, unbreakable steel.
"I agree," I whispered into the dark. "Burn them both to the ground."
