Chapter 1
“Mom, I’m running away from my wedding.”
The night before her wedding, Fiona Lockhart’s trembling fingers pressed her phone to her ear as she called her mother, Evelyn Lockhart, who was halfway across the world.
There was a moment of telling silence on the other end.
Evelyn, who had always understood her daughter better than anyone else, didn’t need to ask why. Her response came swift and sure: “Of course, darling. I’m not getting any younger, and the family business will be yours eventually anyway. The sooner you come here, the sooner you can learn the ropes.”
Fiona forced out a sound of acknowledgment, trying to keep her voice steady. But her eyes, as if drawn by some magnetic force of misery, drifted toward the wedding suite’s windows.
Through the gauzy curtains, she could make out two silhouettes entwined in an intimate embrace – her fiancé and her step–sister.
She fought to maintain her composure, but her voice cracked with the weight of betrayal. The sob she’d been holding back slipped into her words like poison into
wine.
Evelyn’s weary sigh carried years of similar pain. “I really thought he was different, sweetheart. But it seems he’s walked the same path your father did with me. Don’t worry, Fifi. You’re young, and I’m here waiting for you.”
They exchanged a few more words before ending the call, but once the line went. dead, the silence became unbearable. Fiona crumpled to the sidewalk, her designer dress gathering dirt as heart–wrenching sobs tore through her chest. The moonlight painted everything in cruel clarity, making memories shimmer like. broken glass.
–
Before tonight, she too had believed Quentin Sherwood was different. Their love. story had been the stuff of fairy tales childhood sweethearts who made it official at eighteen. Quentin was the perfect son of old money, raised in the hallowed halls of generational wealth. Always polite, devastatingly handsome, and carrying
1/4
01
himself with the quiet confidence that came from knowing he would one day inherit the Sherwood empire.
For ten years, they’d never had a single fight. He’d been more than a boyfriend – he’d been her protector, her comfort, her everything. The flowers never stopped coming, the jewelry boxes never stopped appearing. Whatever Fiona wanted, Quentin provided. Their friends always said that despite his reserved nature, hist love for her was obvious in every gesture, every look.
They were the golden couple, the relationship everyone in their social circle aspired to have.
But tonight’s engagement party had shattered her decade–long dream when Quentin invited the one person Fiona never wanted to see again – her step–sister
Daisy Jennings.
The moment Daisy walked in, memories crashed over Fiona like a tidal wave. She
remembered how Daisy and her mother had tormented Evelyn until she’d nearly
taken her own life. Every instance of bullying, every cruel word, every manipulative
action she’d endured at their hands came rushing back.
The usually composed Fiona completely lost it in public.
She screamed about throwing Daisy out, her voice echoing through the elegant
engagement party.
Daisy didn’t even flinch. Instead, she deliberately provoked Fiona by bringing up Evelyn, wielding the name like a weapon.
The engagement party descended into chaos as the two women’s argument escalated, their voices carrying across the stunned crowd.
Fiona, acting on years of instinct, turned to Quentin for support.
Before she could even speak, he slapped her across the face iim front of everyone. “Go home and sleep it off if you’re drunk. Stop making a scene!!” he snarled. “Look at yourself – how are you fit to be the future lady of the Sherwood family?” Frederick Lockhart, rather than defending Fiona, piled on with his own harsh words.
2
01
“Your sister just returned from abroad, and you’re showing zero class as her sister- in–law. If Aunt Vivian gets upset about this, I swear you’ll regret it!”
Under the judgmental stares of the entire party, they humiliated Fiona completely. Then Quentin left with Daisy, his arm around her waist as they walked away.
They left Fiona behind to face the whispers and mockery alone.
Whether it was the alcohol or the overwhelming shame, her face burned crimson. as she fled the engagement party like a wounded animal.
Getting a cab proved impossible in the late hours.
She wandered the streets in a daze for over three hours.
The cold wind cut through her until her head pounded mercilessly, before she finally made it back to Moonview Estate.
As she approached the building, she spotted them through the window of what was supposed to be her marital home – Quentin and Daisy locked in an intimate. embrace, whispering sweet nothings.
She accessed the security cameras, and piece by painful piece, the truth unraveled before her eyes.
In the years she knew nothing about, it turned out,
Quentin and Daisy had shared a passionate history.
Eight years ago, Quentin had tried to shed his trust fund heir image by starting his own business, only to face bankruptcy after a failed investment.
At his lowest point, he met Daisy at a hostel.
In just one month, Daisy had replaced Fiona – his supposed childhood sweetheart
– becoming the most important person in Quentin’s heart.
But the Sherwood family would never accept a daughter–in–law of such humble
origins.
So Quentin settled for Fiona as his second choice, while keeping Daisy secretly
enshrined in his heart.
Fiona had believed they were childhood sweethearts, destined for each other.
In reality, she was nothing but a replacement, chosen for convenience and social
3/4
01
status.
Her feet were raw and bleeding from walking for hours, but it was nothing
compared to how thoroughly her heart had been shattered.
The handprint burning across her cheek felt like a brand of shame, a scarlet letter seared into her skin. In that single, stinging moment, decades of love and devotion. shattered like fine crystal thrown against concrete.
Fiona knew, with devastating clarity, that it was time to let go of the man she’d loved for over a decade. But this wedding–God, this wedding–had been her dream for fifteen years. It had embodied every romantic fantasy she’d harbored since she was a starry–eyed teenager, representing the perfect future she’d imagined for herself. During her darkest days, planning this wedding had been the lighthouse guiding her forward, the promise of happiness that kept her going when nothing else could.
She’d be damned if she’d let them have it all–her dreams, her carefully crafted plans, her meticulously arranged perfect day. Let them enjoy the fruits of her labor? No. Not after everything.
Instead, she would transform this wedding into something else entirely: a grand finale, a spectacular ending to her fifteen–year love story. It would be her
masterpiece, her way of drawing a line under everything–the family who never truly chose her, the man who betrayed her love, all of it.
This wouldn’t be just an ending; it would be her declaration of independence. Her final bow before walking away from it all, head held high.
It was time to close this chapter of her life. And she would do it on her own terms.