SEVEN DAYS TO SAY FOREVER

"I'm getting married!"

I blinked, my coffee mug freezing halfway to my mouth. "Huh? You guys were even talking again?"

"Of course we were silly. Real love always finds a way back." My stepsister, Clara, laughed over the phone.

She sounded absolutely ecstatic. That was the first red flag.

"Is it to that fitness influencer? The one who spent your entire savings on a crypto scam in Miami?" I asked, rubbing my temples.

"Ew, no. Marcus was a child," she snapped, her tone instantly dropping its sugary coating.

"Umm, congrats, I guess... but who is the lucky guy?"

Unlucky, if I was being completely honest. Clara changed partners faster than the seasons.

"Check your porch, Sav. I had a courier drop it off five minutes ago. Open it. Now."

I sighed, walked over to my apartment door, and pulled open the heavy oak. Resting on the mat was a thick, textured black envelope sealed with a heavy wax stamp of a gold crest.

Dread immediately coiled tightly in the back of my throat.

I broke the wax and pulled out the heavy cardstock, unfolding it. The elegant calligraphy practically glared back at me.

*You are cordially invited to the wedding of Clara Westbrook and Dominic Reed.*

My heart didn't just skip a beat. It fell through the floor, plummeted straight down to the basement, and shattered.

"Dominic Reed," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "My Dominic?"

"My Dominic," Clara corrected instantly, her voice chirping through the speaker like a morning bird. "Isn't it just crazy? The universe works in mysterious ways. He came back to New York last month to handle his family's estate, we ran into each other at a gallery opening, and—boom. Instant chemistry. We just clicked."

I stared at the wall, my mind spinning.

Dominic Reed was my ex-fiancé. The man who had left me standing at the altar exactly one year ago. No phone call. No letter. Just a text from his lawyer saying the wedding was off, followed by total radio silence.

The one man I had given everything to. The one I still saw every time I closed my eyes.

And now he belonged to my stepsister.

"You're marrying my ex-fiancé?" I choked out.

Clara rolled her eyes so loudly I could practically hear it through the phone. "Oh, please, Hazel. You two were a lifetime ago. Plus, he told me it was never really a good fit anyway. You were always so... legalistic and focused on your little interior design startup. A man like Dominic needs a woman who understands luxury."

My mouth went completely dry.

"Anyway," Clara continued, not even waiting for me to breathe. "The wedding is a week-long event at his family's private estate in Aspen. Chateau Reed. Very exclusive. And guess what? I'm making you my maid of honor! I need someone reliable to manage the itinerary, and you're so good at organizing things. Plus, Dominic's groomsmen are all single tech millionaires. Maybe you can finally find someone to take you out of that depressing apartment."

I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached.

"Clara, you know exactly what he did to me. You sat on my bed while I cried for three weeks straight!"

"Oh, sweetie, don't be so dramatic," she sighed, her tone melting like sugar in hot tea. "That was a whole year ago. Get over it. Oh, and by the way, the dress code for the bridal party is midnight blue. Rich, heavy satin. Don't go buying those cheap synthetic blends from the discount racks. It ruins the photos, and Dominic is very particular about aesthetics."

Something snapped inside me. A hot, blinding wave of pure fury rushed through my veins.

If she wanted to play dirty, we were going to play dirty.

"Actually, Clara," I said, my voice suddenly turning ice-cold and smooth. "I won't be coming alone. I have some big news of my own. I just didn't want to steal your thunder."

A sharp pause on the other end. "What news?"

"I'm engaged too."

Clara loudly choked on whatever upscale green juice she was drinking. "You? To whom? You haven't been on a date since the altar incident."

I lifted my chin, staring at Maya reflection in the hallway mirror. "Axel Blackwell."

The name slipped out before I could stop it. He was my absolute best friend in the world, the guy who had held my hair back when I puked from stress, and coincidentally, one of the most powerful finance moguls in the city.

"Axel Blackwell?" Clara’s voice pitched an octave higher, completely losing its poise. "The Blackwell? The finance billionaire? You're dating *him*?"

"Engaged," I lied, without blinking. "We've been keeping it incredibly private. You know how the media gets with men of his status. We didn't want the drama."

"I... I don't believe you," she stammered.

"Believe what you want. We'll see you in Aspen. Now, if you'll excuse me, Axel is calling me on my other line. Love you, sis."

I slammed the hang-up button, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My fingers were trembling so violently I almost dropped the phone.

What had I just done?

Suddenly, my phone vibrated. Then it vibrated again. And again.

A barrage of text messages started flooding my screen.

*Mom: Oh my god, Hazel! Axel Blackwell?! Is it true?!*

*Stepdad: Congratulations, pumpkin! I knew you'd land a big fish!*

*Aunt Sharon: Is he paying for the Aspen flights?!*

*Clara: Eeeee! So happy for you, Sav! Can't wait to meet him!*

Clara had already screenshotted my lie and blasted it to the entire family group chat. There were over thirty people in that chat, and they were all currently losing their minds.

I looked down at my phone screen, my heart hammering against my ribs. Axel didn't even know he was in a relationship, let alone engaged.

I had exactly twenty-four hours to make a billionaire my fake fiancé, or my life was completely over.

I grabbed my coat, threw on a pair of running shoes, and ran out the door. It was midnight, but I didn't care. I needed to see Axel right now.