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Jilted at the Altar, Chosen by the Heir Novel Cover

Jilted at the Altar, Chosen by the Heir

My arranged marriage to Ronnie Harding was supposed to be a perfect match, finalized on our college graduation day. But as I prepared to walk down the aisle, I discovered my custom-made bridal shoes were completely the wrong size. Instead of helping, Ronnie dismissed my distress, entirely absorbed in his phone. The shocking truth emerges when his junior classmate, Christina Taylor, casually reveals she already wore my custom wedding shoes, shattering my expectations of a perfect life.
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Chapter 2

2: 2

A wave of nausea rolled through me.

My fiancé, holding another woman in his arms right in front of me, tender as anything.

The way the two of them clung together, if it weren't for the crowd around them, they'd have put on a show right there.

"Get out!"

"Both of you, get out of here!"

My voice shook as I snarled it, finger stabbing toward the door of the prep room.

Ronnie frowned. "Rose, rein in that temper of yours. Once you're my wife, I'm your whole world, and you learn to be a sweet, obedient little woman."

"Otherwise, the spot as Mrs. Harding goes to Chrissy instead."

Something lit up in Christina's eyes.

But it dimmed just as fast.

She leaned against Ronnie's chest and said softly, "If only my last name were Winfield too."

"That can be arranged," Ronnie said.

"Rose, have a word with Uncle Clyde and Aunt Melissa. Ask them to take Chrissy in as their goddaughter."

"Chrissy's devoted to me, and I can't return it, so giving her the role of a little sister is a way of making it right for her."

Hearing that, my first thought was how absurd it all was. Then my hand itched, and I wanted nothing more than to give Ronnie another slap across the face.

"Is your brain caked over with filth? Why on earth would I agree to that?"

"Rose, clearly you didn't take my words to heart. I told you, marry me and you'll be an obedient wife! Now, right now, arrange for Chrissy to be taken in!"

"And if I won't?"

"Then don't count on marrying me!"

I couldn't believe Ronnie was throwing threats at me. We had a childhood arranged marriage, grew up together, the bond between us was hardly ordinary!

Angry and hurt, I said out of spite, "Fine, then I won't!"

"Rose, don't you dare regret this!"

And Ronnie didn't so much as try to coax me. He stripped off his wedding suit, put his arm around Christina, and walked straight out.

The makeup artist, the stylist, and the photographer left in the prep room looked at one another, every face wearing the same "this is bad" expression.

The makeup artist asked carefully, "Miss Winfield, we're running out of time. Shall we do your makeup as planned?"

I came back to myself.

I took a deep breath. "Do the makeup."

Ronnie had left, but I was certain he wouldn't skip the wedding.

We'd grown up together, we knew each other well enough. He was only trying to scare me; he wouldn't leave me with no way to save face. Besides, this marriage tied the Winfield family and the Harding family together. If he called it off, he'd never get past the elders of the Harding family!

After turning it over in my mind for a while, my racing heart settled.

I clenched my fist and swore that if Ronnie didn't apologize properly, tonight there was no way I'd let him through my bedroom door!

Telling me I should treat my husband as my whole world—had some feudal ghost crawled into his head???

I'd show him how I'd deal with him, drain all that water out of his brain.

...

The makeup artist pulled out every trick she had and finished the bridal look ten minutes before the ceremony began.

Looking at the woman in the mirror, wearing only light makeup yet stunning all the same, I curled the corner of my mouth.

Ronnie and I had bickered and squabbled for over twenty years. He'd moved into my heart before I even knew what love was.

Between us there was friendship, there was love.

And someday, there would be family too.

We were the two halves that couldn't be split apart.

"Miss Winfield, would this pair of wedding shoes be all right instead?"

The stylist held up a pair of new shoes, close in color to the custom ones.

I glanced down. Very plain in style, completely out of step with the lavish, bold gown.

But the wedding shoes weren't just too small, they carried Christina's sweat inside them now.

There was no way I'd ever wear them again!

Something knotted in my chest, but in the end I nodded and let the stylist change me into the new shoes.

One last check of my makeup, hair, and gown, and I'd be ready to go out for the ceremony.

I looked toward the door of the prep room. Ronnie, who was supposed to come and walk me out, hadn't come.

I was puzzled, but there was no time to dwell on it. The ceremony was about to start, so I walked out myself.

The moment I stepped into the hall, I froze.

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