I Let Him Watch Me Marry Someone Else

Astra’s POV

I didn’t answer.

Nolan exhaled hard, his tone softening. “If this is about Anna and the ambush—I get it. Me and Riven—we screwed up. We should’ve been there for you. But Astra… think about it. You had your parents, right? You had us too. Anna had no one. We had to protect her.”

He took a step closer. “And about her birthday—think how many people were watching. If I didn’t insist you apologize, what would they think? You know how much reputation matters in our world.”

Still, I said nothing.

Nolan’s voice dropped again, almost coaxing. “Come on, Astra. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I want to marry. Anna? She’ll always be an outsider. We’re going to be a family.”

A pause.

“How about this—come with me to my mother’s party tomorrow night? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

I hesitated. Right—Nolan’s mother. She’d always been kind to me, treated me like a daughter even before Nolan and I were official. And now that I was leaving the city for good… the least I could do was give her a proper goodbye—and an explanation.

“Alright,” I said quietly.

Nolan’s face lit up. He probably took my answer as forgiveness. He didn’t even seem to be mad about the ruined photos in the trash anymore.

“I’ll pick you up myself,” he said, smiling, and leaned in, trying to kiss me like nothing had changed.

I turned my head just in time, and his lips brushed empty air.

…

I wasn’t planning to impress anyone tonight, so I slipped into a simple silver gown and added just a hint of makeup.

“I’ve arrived. Come out when you’re ready,” Nolan’s text read.

I stepped outside, heading toward the first car. But Nolan stopped me, his expression stiff—awkward.

I frowned.

Then Anna’s voice drifted from inside the car. “Astra!”

I froze.

Anna was already seated in the front car.

I turned to Nolan, my voice caught somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion. “What is happening?”

If Anna was already with him, why did he bother picking me up? Was I supposed to play the fool again?

Nolan leaned in, voice low. “You knew Anna had been staying at my Manor recently. I didn’t plan to bring her tonight. But she saw me getting ready, so…”

Of course good-hearted Nolan couldn’t say no to poor, helpless Anna. And now she was riding in the first car, like she was the guest he’d personally chosen to bring to the party.

Riven stuck his head out of the window. “I’m not sitting with the mean queen. Put her in the second car, Nolan.”

Nolan hesitated for a second, then pointed to the car behind the first.

“It’s just a twenty-minute ride. Nothing will go wrong.” He looked at me. “Please?”

The second car was older, a little dingy.

But I didn’t hesitate. I walked over and got in.

It was too late to call my own driver, and Nolan was right—it was only twenty minutes.

What could possibly go wrong?

…

I realized how wrong I was just ten minutes later.

A black car had been following us for a while. At first, I thought I was imagining it. But at every light, every turn, it stayed locked behind the second car like a shadow.

The driver was just about to cross the intersection when the light turned red, so he stopped.

Nolan’s car had already made it past the crosswalk. I reached for my phone, wanting to tell him to wait—just to stay close, in case.

But Nolan didn’t answer.

That’s when the black car pulled up beside us. A man rolled down the back window.

I saw a mask—then the glint of a gun. Before I could move, the shot rang out. My driver slumped forward, blood blooming across his shirt.

And Nolan’s car? It kept going. No brakes. No turning back. Not even a pause. Just… gone.

I scrambled for my phone, hands shaking, breath caught in my throat. I didn’t even manage to dial before another shot cracked the air.

I ducked on instinct, but the bullet still tore through my shoulder, slicing just beneath the collarbone. The pain was instant—blinding—a white-hot burn that knocked the breath from my lungs.

Just when I thought it might be the end, I heard it—shouting, the thud of fists, the sound of a struggle.

Then... silence.

A second later, the handle on my door was yanked open. Light spilled through the crack.

“Please, don’t hurt me!”

“It’s okay now.” A man stood there, silhouetted against the glow of streetlights. He extended a hand toward me. “Are you hurt? The gunman’s been taken care of. You’re safe.”

I hesitated, still curled beneath the seat. But when I reached up, his hand was warm and strong.

He pulled me out gently.

I blinked against the light, and that’s when I saw him clearly—sharp jawline, slicked-back hair, a perfectly tailored black suit. And those eyes, blue, striking, but oddly familiar.

“Thank you…” I murmured, glancing at the lifeless body on the ground. The gun still clutched in the man’s limp hand.

If this man hadn’t shown up, I would’ve died in that car today.

“Have we met before?” I asked, reluctant.

There was something about him—something familiar I couldn’t place. I’d seen him before. I was sure of it.

But every time I tried to remember, pain lanced through my skull, sharp and blinding.

“Thank you for saving me. I’m Astra Quinn. What’s your name?” I asked again, steadier this time.

He smiled faintly and shook his head. “Not important right now. Let’s get you to a hospital.”

The mention of it brought everything back at once.

The adrenaline drained from my body, and the pain came rushing in—hot and raw, blooming from my shoulder like fire.

I staggered slightly.

He caught me. “I’ve got you,” he said softly