After a few days, I had stormed into Britney’s hospital room the moment I got the text.
Come to the hospital. There’s good news… and bad news.
When I saw her awake, her frail body propped against crisp white pillows, my heart soared.
Finally. Finally, I could stop this nightmare.
But then, my father had pulled me aside, his expression unreadable.
“She doesn’t remember anything,” he said, his voice cold and firm.
My blood ran cold. "What?!"
“She has amnesia.”
I took a staggering step back. "No. No way."
"The wedding is in two weeks," he continued, his gaze pinning me in place. "Duke Trayson is the only thing keeping us from bankruptcy. If this marriage doesn’t happen, we lose everything."
I wanted to scream.
To run.
To burn everything to the ground.
But the look in his eyes told me I had no choice.
And now, here I was.
Standing in a grand cathedral, drowning in lace and pearls, walking down an aisle toward a man who thought I was someone else.
The scent of fresh roses filled the air, thick and suffocating. Hundreds of eyes were on me, watching, waiting.
Duke stood at the altar, his broad shoulders rigid, his icy blue gaze locked onto mine.
He looked… perfect. Too perfect.