The wedding was a very big deal.
Preston spared no expense. The ceremony sprawled across a private island, with white roses cascading from golden arches and chandeliers dangling from ancient oak trees. The ocean stretched infinitely behind them, the sunset staining the horizon in shades of blood and gold.
Zoe stood at the altar, her hair now a rich chestnut brown, her body subtly altered using makeup. She looks just like a goddess.
Her dress clung to her like liquid silk, flowing like water as she walked down the aisle, hand resting gently on her stomach.
Preston waited for her, his black suit tailored to perfection, eyes burning like he’d won a war just by having her stand beside him.
Because he had.
He slipped the ring onto her finger, his voice low enough for only her to hear.Preston’s eyes softened, the sharp edge of his smile fading as he stepped closer.
“I’ve loved you for years, Zoe,” he said, voice low but steady. “I watched you from afar, watched you settle for a man who never deserved you. And I hated lt.
He lifted my hand to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across my knuckles.
“I don’t want to control you. I don’t want to break you. I want to build you back up. I want to give you the world, stand by you while you burn theirs down, and make sure no one ever hurts you or your baby again.”
His thumb grazed my skin, a quiet vow in the touch.
“All I ask is that you let me love you the way you should have been loved all along.”
When the officiant declared us husband and wife, Pearson leaned in and kissed her like he was staking a claim. And she let him, her fingers curling around his wrist, her lips pressing back with quiet acceptance.
Meanwhile — Across the Ocean
Travis walked round his office, sweat clinging to his skin as he barked orders into the phone. Papers were strewn across his desk ,legal threats, investor withdrawals, and court dates looming like a guillotine over his head.
“Fix it,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. “I don’t care what you have to do — just make it disappear.”
He slammed the phone down, chest heaving. The walls felt like they were closing in. Every hour, more evidence leaked. Bank records, medical documents, and video clips of him and Madison slipping away to hotels. His mother-in-law’s death, the rushed surgery, and how it was connected to Madison's sister .
He wiped his face, feeling like his skin was on fire.
“We’re losing everything,” Madison whispered, her voice frantic. She clutched her phone, scrolling through messages. “Ethan’s divorcing me. He filed today.Me, Travis!” she grabbed his arm. “Do something.”
“I’m trying!” he barked, shoving her hand off.
She flinched but didn’t back down.
“They’re going to put us in prison,” she hissed, her eyes wild. “I’m not letting that happen. We have to find out who’s behind this!”
Travis ignored her and sank into his chair, rubbing his face. The world spun, every mistake he’d ever made crashing down at once. And just when he thought it couldn’t get worse —
The TV blared in the corner of the room.
“Breaking news: Billionaire Preston Urie marries mystery woman today”
Travis’s breath caught. The remote slipped from his fingers as he stared at the screen. The camera zoomed in on the bride, her hair lighter, her features slightly different. But he saw it.
The curve of her lips. The way she tilted her head.
His heart slammed into his ribs.
“Zoe,” he whispered.
Madison snapped to attention, her face draining of color. “No,” she rasped, shaking her head. “No, that’s not possible. She’s dead. She’s —”
Travis bolted upright, grabbing his phone with trembling fingers. The wedding had already happened — hours ago.
He dialed.
“Who are you calling?” Madison screeched.
Travis didn’t answer. The line rang, and every second stretched like torture until a smooth, smug voice answered.
“Hello, Travis,” Preston drawled.
Travis’s throat tightened. “Where is she?” he rasped. “Where’s my wife?”
Preston chuckled, low and vicious. “Your wife?” he echoed, voice dripping with mockery. “I think you’re confused, Travis. My wife is right here.”
Travis’s vision blurred with rage. “Put her on the phone,” he demanded, voice cracking.
There was a beat of silence, and then —
“I’m not your wife,” a voice said, soft and lethal. “My name is Emily.”
Travis staggered, his legs nearly giving out beneath him.
Madison covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. “She’s alive?” she whispered, voice quivering. “She’s the one doing this?”
Travis didn’t answer. He just kept clutching the phone, his pulse hammering loud enough to drown out everything else.
“Zoe,” he breathed, chest caving in.
Madison paced, her hands tangling in her hair. “This can’t be happening,” she whispered. “It’s her. She’s doing this to us. She —”
She stopped suddenly, her face draining of color as she turned toward the window.
Her voice trembled. “Travis… the police are here.”
