"Tick... tick..." Jessica Southern had never felt time crawl like this before—only twenty seconds left on the ticking bomb.
Tch, wasn't fate generous? Her fifteenth birthday brought a car crash that took her parents' lives, and shortly after, the guy she loved got engaged to someone else. Now, for her sixteenth, the universe decided to blow her up. Nice.
"Jessica! Go to hell!" The man's voice echoed harshly in her ears.
He was probably off saving his precious fiancée by now, right?
If she had any regrets in her life, it had to be this — setting up a fake kidnapping with the hope that he'd be forced to choose... her. Seriously, what was she thinking?
She really bought into the idea that he still loved her. He had spoiled her since they were kids; she had been his whole world, or so she thought. Fifteen years of being his favorite, and she bet everything on that.
Her only takeaway now? She walked right into it.
Once a man's heart moves on, even if you die in front of him, he won't blink. That's what she'd come to believe.
The countdown kept going, "10... 9..."
Mom, Dad... I'm so sorry. I still haven't found who killed you.
"Boom!" A massive explosion echoed through Clariton in Helvaria.
The headline spread fast—a Young Miss from the Southern family obsessed with Alan Knight, CEO of the Knight Group, hires fake thugs to abduct herself and the CEO's fiancée, hoping to force a choice. The twist? The "fake" kidnappers turned out to be enemies of the Knight family. In the end, both women died.
Alan, enraged and grief-stricken, hunted down every last one of them, avenging his fiancée. As for Jessica? He hated her so much he refused to let her be buried. No grave, no remains—just vanished from existence.
It was the hottest tea of the year. Everyone talked about it.
Four years later, the grandest wedding Clariton had ever seen took place in its cathedral.
The groom: Alan. The bride: Chloe Southern, Jessica's cousin.
A classic fairytale scene—handsome man, beautiful woman, walking down a long red carpet under the gaze of the world. Picture perfect.
"Alan," the priest spoke loud and clear, "do you take Chloe to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together according to God's law, to love her, comfort her, honor and protect her?"
Alan stood there, sharp features carved like stone, icy and unreadable. Even in a moment like this, he radiated a chill that felt almost untouchable.
His eyes, dark and deep, held no light. His lips parted slightly. "I—"
"Alan!" a sharp voice cut in right on cue.
Michael Brooks rushed in, clearly out of breath, and leaned close to whisper something urgent.
"Get them! Don't let the thief escape with the files!"
"Already sent a team! I'm heading there myself!" Michael spun and dashed out just as fast.
Chloe could sense something was seriously off—the man's voice was icy, like death itself. What kind of document could have made Alan's expression change that fast?
A petite figure squeezed through the crowd of reporters, a press badge dangling around her neck.
Alan's sharp gaze instantly locked onto her, freezing on her like time itself had stopped.
Chloe noticed the man's sudden shift, followed his eyes—and froze.
Short hair just past her ears, fair skin, eyes that sparkled under neat brows, and lips tinted red with a smirk that seemed both cold and mocking.
The girl's smile deepened with sarcasm. "What's with the look, Mr. Knight? Don't tell me... you think you saw a ghost?"
"Jessica?! You're... alive?" Chloe blurted out, too shocked to wait for Alan to respond.
It was like that called him back to reality. Alan shoved Chloe's hand away and strode toward Jessica, grabbing her arm with a grip that looked like it could snap bones. His eyes had turned terrifyingly dark, like a black hole swallowing light.
"Doing this in front of your bride—don't you think that's a little messed up? Let go!" Jessica frowned, wincing at the pain, trying to pull free. She knew he hated that she lived—but seriously, was he planning to kill her in public? She'd walked in here sure he wouldn't. Now, she wasn't so sure anymore.
Feeling her tug, Alan tightened his grip instead, eyes filled with barely suppressed fury. So she finally came back. Four years, and she'd stayed away unless cornered like this?
Watching the two of them stare each other down like she wasn't even there, Chloe's heart twisted. She felt like an outsider. Like she could never really enter his world. She rushed over and clung to Alan's arm.
"Jessica, what are you doing here? You already ruined everything once—you cost Alan his fiancée, and now you're here to wreck our wedding too? He doesn't love you anymore!"
She knew what button to push—that was Alan's deepest wound. His fiancée, lost because of Jessica. Chloe threw the jab right when it would hurt the most.
Jessica let out a cold laugh and took in a slow breath. "Cost her? Oh, so you wanna bring up the kidnapping now? Perfect. I've got a few things to say too. Like maybe... who the kidnapper really was."
So what if she was here to ruin it all? Chloe thought Jessica had died, that the other woman was history. That she'd finally won. And now she dared to think she could marry Alan? Over Jessica's dead body—it just wasn't happening.
Chloe's face went pale. Her grip on Alan trembled so badly she couldn't hide it. Jessica's words hit like a blow. She didn't dare look at Alan. That name—"the kidnapper"—cut straight into her like a knife.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Whatever you say won't change the past. You were the one who got Alan's fiancée killed. That's what really happened."
Jessica just raised an eyebrow, smirk curling on her lips. "You look nervous, Chloe. I said we should talk about the kidnapping—why so scared?"
Her glare pierced straight into Chloe like a laser, unblinking and sharp.
Right then, Alan's brows furrowed. His unreadable gaze turned to Chloe, heavy with doubt.
