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On Our Wedding, He'll Witness the Ballerina He Blinded Novel Cover

On Our Wedding, He'll Witness the Ballerina He Blinded

Seven days before her wedding, a blind heiress discovers a devastating truth: her fiancé, Alexis Berstein, caused the tragic fire that ruined her family and sight. Not only has he been deceiving her with his uncle, but he also plans to humiliate her at the altar and give her stolen choreography to his lover. Refusing to remain a victim, she secretly books life-changing eye surgery. She vows to reclaim her stage at the Paris Opera House and expose his betrayal once and for all.
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Chapter 3

Darcey’s POV

Babe?

The word almost made me laugh.

I genuinely didn’t understand what kind of sick fucking composure Alexis had to look at a woman he had personally destroyed and still call her that.

“I came home today and you weren’t there. You really scared me.”

He leaned in, brushing against me in a soft, almost coaxing way.

There was a time when I couldn’t resist that.

His gentle kisses, his firm embrace, they always gave me the illusion that I was needed, that I was cherished.

Every time he got close like this, I would forget whatever I had been questioning him about.

All that remained was a softness I couldn’t control, and somehow, I would end up comforting him instead.

But this time, all I felt was disgust.

In my mind, the same image replayed over and over again: him standing on that stage, kissing Yasmine in front of everyone, as if I meant nothing.

My stomach churned violently.

I shoved him away without hesitation.

“I have a cold,” I said, my voice tight, though I forced it to remain steady. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

He clearly hadn’t expected that.

It was the first time I had ever pushed him away like that.

His brows furrowed instantly, a trace of displeasure flashing through his eyes. But when he heard my reason, that emotion gradually faded.

He sighed, his tone softening again.

“Why would I be afraid of catching something from you?”

The irony was almost laughable.

What he had told his friends the night before, that he had been “saving himself” for Yasmine, was complete bullshit.

He was a healthy, impulsive man. When things turned intimate between us, there was no way he had ever stopped midway out of some twisted sense of restraint.

I only realized the truth just now when I felt his body react earlier.

And the moment it clicked, a wave of nausea surged through me.

The thought that I had been nothing more than a clueless object, handled, shared, and used at their convenience, made my skin crawl.

It was so revolting I nearly threw up.

Fortunately, whatever desire he had was gone.

As if nothing had happened, he reached out and held my arm.

“Come on,” he said gently. “I’ve prepared a surprise for you.”

I didn’t resist. My vision was recovering. I couldn’t risk exposing it.

“I upgraded the dance studio,” he continued. “From now on, everything you choreograph can be recorded by an intelligent system.”

“We can upload it to the ‘Butterfly’ account.”

“Even if your eyesight doesn’t recover for now, your dances can still be seen.” He smiled faintly. “Do you like it?”

If this had been before, I might have been moved to tears.

For a dancer who had lost her sight, being able to leave her work behind in the world would have meant everything.

But now, all I felt was cold.

Because I knew exactly why he had rushed to upgrade the studio.

Six days later, on the day after our wedding, Yasmine would be competing for the position of principal dancer.

And “Butterfly’s” choreography was her greatest bargaining chip.

That account… was mine.

I created it before the Georgsens ever took me back, back when I was trying to earn money just to keep dancing. I hid my face, uploaded my choreography online and gained recognition almost overnight.

People in the industry were willing to pay an absurd price for a single piece from the so-called genius choreographer “Butterfly.”

But I had never intended to reveal myself. To me, choreography had always been something personal.

Now, Yasmine was using my work to build her reputation.

It was fucking absurd.

“I don’t want to choreograph anymore.”

He stiffened.

His voice dropped sharply, the irritation no longer concealed.

“If you don’t choreograph, what exactly are you going to do? Sit around and be useless?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake.

“I mean—”

He quickly corrected himself.

“Don’t you want to dance again at our wedding in six days? I’m preparing a custom stage for you. Even if you can’t see, you won’t fall. You can dance safely.”

Dance at our wedding?

I let out a silent, humorless laugh.

The one dancing that day would never be me.

Seeing that I wasn’t reacting the way he expected, his jaw tightened.

“And your adoptive father woke up recently, didn’t he?”

“Don’t you want him to see you dance again?”

I almost admired the audacity.

He was willing to use even my father as leverage just to make me choreograph for Yasmine.

Fine.

If that was what he wanted, then I would give it to him.

I let my voice waver slightly, as if I were hesitating.

“Then I’ll choreograph one more piece.”

He visibly relaxed.

“Good. I won’t disturb you.”

He turned and walked out of the studio.

Through the narrow gap of the door, I heard him make a call.

“Yasmine, she agreed. The studio’s monitoring system is already synced to you. At the wedding, you can claim that you’re ‘Butterfly.’”

“With the footage, you’ll be able to explain every movement in detail. There won’t be any inconsistencies. And the next day, your audition for principal will go much more smoothly.”

“After that, you’ll be the principal dancer.”

“And the genius choreographer. Butterfly.”

I bit down so hard I nearly drew blood.

So this was their plan.

They weren’t just stealing my choreography.

They were going to take my name, my identity, everything I had fought for.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I forced them back.

There were cameras in the studio.

So I continued practicing, as if I knew nothing.

Yasmine wanted to become Butterfly?

Then let’s see whether she’s actually worthy of it.

I stayed in the studio for an entire day and night.

My vision recovered quickly, the once-blurred world gradually sharpening into clarity.

And during that time, I didn’t forget to gather evidence.

Evidence that would ruin Alexis completely.

The next day, he suddenly pushed open the studio door.

“Take a break today,” he said. “I’ll take you to pick out a wedding ring.”

I tried to refuse, but he had already led me outside.

By the time we reached the car, someone was already seated in the passenger seat.

Yasmine turned around, her smile soft and gentle.

“Darcey, Alexis said you can’t see well, so he asked me to help you choose a ring.”

She tilted her head slightly, her tone sweet, almost sickening.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

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