Dumped by the Man I Saved, I Married His Worst Nightmare

My body went rigid as I tightened my grip on the phone. I didn’t really know this man on the other end of the line. All I knew about him came from Dorian—how his tone sharpened every time Landon’s name was mentioned, how hatred rolled off him whenever their rivalry came up. And strangely, that alone was enough.

If Dorian loathed him that deeply, then perhaps Landon was the sharpest blade I could use to cut Dorian down.

A cold smile crept onto my lips. My voice stayed calm, but my chest felt like it was burning from the inside.

“Then maybe you should be the one to come get me.”

His laugh was slow and confident, the sound of someone who never doubted himself.

“Running away from your groom? I like that idea.”

A weak chuckle slipped from me. “Tomorrow, then,” I murmured, ending the call before I could change my mind.

My heart pounded—not with fear, but with something darker and far more dangerous.

Revenge.

Then I turned—and nearly jumped out of my skin.

Dorian was standing in the doorway, watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Who was on the phone just now?” he asked.

I forced my expression to remain relaxed despite the panic in my veins. “Mara,” I replied lightly. “You remember her—my best friend. She’s coming to the wedding.”

He stared at me for another moment before speaking again. “Actually…” His tone shifted, suddenly casual. “I think we’ll need to delay the wedding.”

The words knocked the air from my lungs. “Delay it?”

He moved closer, sighing. “Something urgent came up overseas. I have to leave on a business trip. Once I’m back, I’ll focus on us again.”

I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting in a brittle smile. “Of course.”

“You’re not upset?” he asked carefully.

I shook my head. “I get it.”

His fingers brushed my hair, guilt briefly flashing across his face. “I really am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Should I help you pack?” I offered quietly.

He gave me a tired smile. “That would be great.”

That night I folded his clothes, lined up his shoes, zipped his suitcase with hands that felt strangely calm. When he kissed my forehead goodbye, convinced everything was still under his control, I stood alone in the penthouse after he left.

To distract myself, I began tidying up—and noticed his laptop still open.

I knew I shouldn’t touch it.

But I did.

The email on the screen made my blood run cold.

“Maldives Wedding Confirmation — Dorian & Yvette.”

I laughed aloud, a hollow, broken sound. “So that’s your business trip.”

My phone buzzed.

A message from Yvette—along with a photo of her kissing Dorian, his hands buried in her hair.

Doesn’t he look happier with me?

I stared at it for a long time before blocking her number.

The next morning, Dorian texted like nothing had happened: I’ll buy you something nice when I’m back.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I slipped on my coat and walked toward the exit.

The butler looked up. “Madam, where are you heading?”

“Just to buy something for the wedding,” I replied smoothly. “I’ll take a taxi.”

I left my packed bags behind on purpose. If anyone was watching, they would think I was staying.

But around the corner waited a black limousine.

The window slid down.

Landon smiled at me—sharp, unreadable. “So, ready to disappear?”

A flicker of fear passed through me, but I pushed it aside. Anything was better than the prison I’d lived in.

“I am,” I said.

Hours later, as his private jet lifted into the sky, I removed my SIM card, staring one last time at Dorian’s name. Then I tossed it away.

“Goodbye,” I whispered.

---

Dorian’s POV

I couldn’t stop pacing. Camille hadn’t replied to any of my messages.

“Dorian,” Yvette purred, wrapping her arms around me. “Why bother with her? She’s probably throwing another tantrum. We’re the ones getting married—”

I shrugged her off. “Don’t.”

She smiled lazily. “Don’t remind you that you belong with me?”

I glared at her. “This is business. I’m still marrying Camille.”

She laughed. “After everything you did to her? Please.”

Her words struck harder than I expected. I pulled out my phone.

Camille’s name was gone.

Blocked.

My stomach dropped.

I called the butler immediately. “Where is Camille? Why isn’t she answering me?”

A pause. Then his answer: “She left yesterday, sir… and never returned.”