Blind Box Bride Escaped and He Lost It

The business world's reigning emperor, Ian Wade, was a lunatic.

He locked a hundred women inside a villa and treated them like blind-box prizes. Pulling one at random, he would marry whoever he drew.

Everyone thought getting picked was luck. Only I knew it was a curse.

In my last life, I was the one whose name came up.

After being reborn, I planned to destroy the magnetic strip on the blind box and dodge that twisted fate altogether.

But by some cruel twist of chance, I still ended up being the "lucky" one.

On the wedding day, history repeated itself.

Ian took a phone call, panic flashing across his face as he tore off his boutonniere.

"Jemma doesn't want to marry. She's threatening suicide. I have to go get her," he said.

The man who was supposed to marry Jemma Lane—Leland Riley, the Crownport's golden heir, stormed in, radiating icy fury.

He didn't chase after the runaway bride. Instead, he walked straight up to me and looked me over from head to toe.

"Ian ran off with my wife," Leland said, grabbing my chin.

"His debt becomes yours. You marry me and become Mrs. Riley. Fair enough, right?"

Staring at this man I had never crossed paths with in my previous life, I wiped away the tears I had been ready to fake.

Since Ian had shown no mercy, I saw no reason to play nice.

I smiled and nodded.

"Fair enough. I'll marry you."

Ian would get his wish and marry Jemma.

Whether they lived happily ever after or tore each other apart had nothing to do with me anymore.

The moment I spoke, every guest's gaze snapped toward me.

Leland curled his lips. The chill in his eyes eased, replaced by a hint of amused interest.

He released my chin and instead seized my wrist, his palm burning hot.

"Let's go," he said.

Then he turned and pulled me along.

My wedding gown trailed across the red carpet.

The Wade family's bodyguards tried to stop us.

Leland's men stepped forward, forming a human wall.

"Mr. Riley, this isn't proper—" the Foster family's butler stammered, face drained of color.

Leland didn't even look back. He lifted a hand slightly. In an instant, his men restrained the butler.

The scene spiraled into chaos. Camera flashes went wild. Reporters had probably never witnessed anything this explosive in their lives.

A socialite bride switching grooms on the spot. I could hear Ian's mother shrieking in rage behind me, hear the guests buzzing in disbelief.

"Is she insane? How dare she?"

"That's Leland—the Riley family heir. Their families are sworn rivals."

"This is going to be good."

Those voices faded farther and farther away.

Leland shoved me into a black luxury sedan. The door slammed shut, sealing out the noise.

He leaned over to fasten my seatbelt.

We were so close I could smell him—the faint mix of tobacco and fir.

Unlike Ian's aggressive cologne, this scent was colder, cleaner.

"Scared?" he asked suddenly.

I shook my head. In my last life, I had been afraid of everything.

Afraid of upsetting Ian. Afraid of Jemma. Afraid even of dying a miserable death.

This time, I didn't want to be afraid anymore. Leland studied me, the playful curve of his mouth deepening.

"Heh. Interesting," he scoffed inwardly. "Ian really is blind—she's all claws beneath that calm exterior."

He said nothing else, just floored the gas. The car roared away from the wedding venue that had witnessed the humiliation of both my lives.

The car pulled into the Riley estate—an even grander property than the Wade ancestral home, ablaze with lights.

Leland lifted me straight out of the car. My gown brushed the ground, damp with night dew.

He carried me through a long corridor. The butler and servants all lowered their heads, not daring to breathe.

He kicked open a bedroom door and gently set me down on the plush bed.

"Rest. Someone will bring you clothes in a bit," he said, looking at me, his gaze dark and unreadable.

"Don't worry. If Ian dares to come demanding you back, I'll break his legs."

With that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

I looked around. The room was black, white, and gray, just like him.

I walked over to the desk, meaning to grab a tissue to wipe the dust from my face, but accidentally knocked over a photo frame lying face down.

I reached out to steady it, then froze when I saw the picture.

It was slightly yellowed, low resolution. Clearly a candid shot.

The background was an alley behind a youth center ten years ago. A girl in a school uniform was crouched on the ground, feeding a stray cat with a broken leg a piece of ham. She wore her hair in a ponytail, her profile still young, her eyes focused and gentle.

That girl was me.

My heart skipped violently.

Ten years ago, before I ever met Ian, before I became the so-called blind-box bride, I was just Margot Norris.

Why did Leland have this photo?

And why was it placed in the most prominent spot on his desk?

So while I had been blindly chasing Ian all those years, there had been someone else, watching me quietly from a corner I never noticed, for a full decade.

The sound of running water from the bathroom stopped.

Panicking, I flipped the frame back down and retreated to the sofa, my heartbeat refusing to calm.

The room fell silent. I lay on the bed, staring up at the crystal chandelier, everything feeling unreal.

Barefoot, I walked to the window and looked out at the unfamiliar estate.

Could this life really be different?

My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket.

I took it out. On the screen flashed a name I hadn't wanted to see ever again—Ian.

My heart clenched.

I didn't want to answer, but the phone kept ringing, relentlessly.

Finally, I slid to accept the call.

"Margot," Ian said, his voice cold.

No accusations, no anger.

"Where are you?"

I gripped the phone, silent.

"Jemma was just throwing a tantrum. I've handled it."

His voice was calm, as if the one who had run away today wasn't me at all, just someone utterly insignificant.

"Come back. Now."

I took a deep breath. "Ian, we're done."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then, I heard a soft laugh, cruel and undisguised.

"Margot, did you forget? Your mother is still lying in the ICU at Ridgewell Hospital."

My heart collapsed inward. He always knew exactly where to hit.

"Just now, I cut the power to her ventilator. And I withdrew the surgical fees. The doctor says she has maybe half an hour left," he added, his tone unhurried, as if discussing the weather.

"Be at the villa before dark. Otherwise, you'll deal with the aftermath yourself," he said softly.