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The Price of His Youth Novel Cover

The Price of His Youth

On the eve of her wedding, a woman discovers her fiancé, Lucian Drake, staged bridal photos with his best friend, Marisol. When confronted about the betrayal, Lucian dismisses her pain as jealousy, claiming he was merely comforting a depressed friend to commemorate their shared youth. Refusing to be humiliated, the protagonist cancels the marriage and withdraws her financial support from Lucian’s failing company. She also halts the medical arrangements for his mother, leaving him to face the consequences of his infidelity alone.
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Chapter 3

Early the next morning, just as dawn began to break, the makeup artist was applying my makeup, hesitating as if she wanted to say something.

“Are you really not going to wear the wedding dress?”

“Nope.”

I felt disgusted by anything that had been touched by something unclean.

“I’ll wear this suit instead.”

At exactly eight o’clock, it was time for the groom to come fetch the bride.

But downstairs, everything was eerily quiet.

There were no fireworks, and there was no sign of Lucian.

My bridesmaid, Valerie Bohr, rushed in, her eyes reddened with anger.

“Eva, this is too much! That bastard Lucian still hasn’t shown up! I just called the groomsmen—guess what they said?”

I put on my earrings unhurriedly, my tone calm. “What did they say?”

“They said that Lucian had taken the wedding car!”

Valerie stomped her foot in fury.

“They said Marisol suddenly had a depressive episode and was threatening to jump off a building.

“She insisted on riding in that limited-edition limousine to calm down!

“That idiot actually drove it away and even told you… told you to take a taxi to the hotel!”

I let out a soft laugh.

As expected, there was nothing they wouldn’t dare to do.

That limousine had been specially brought out from my father’s garage—a globally limited edition.

Marisol certainly had an eye for luxury.

Even in the middle of a depressive episode, she chose the most expensive car.

My phone rang—it was Lucian.

After I answered, the sound of rushing wind came through, along with Lucian’s anxious voice, “Eva, go to the hotel first and handle the guests.

“Marisol is very unstable right now. She almost jumped from the rooftop!

“A life is at stake, so don’t throw a tantrum at a time like this!”

“Oh?” I applied a bold red lipstick in front of the mirror. “And?”

“I’ll bring the car back in a while! Just take a taxi, or have your family driver send you. Your family has plenty of cars anyway—you won’t miss this one.”

Lucian spoke as if entirely justified; he even dared to sound annoyed at me.

“You’re the bride—you should be more understanding. If anything really happens to Marisol, we’ll carry that guilt for the rest of our lives!”

“Lucian, ” I cut him off.

“Remember what you just said.”

With that, I hung up and blocked his number.

“What do we do now, Eva?” Valerie was on the verge of tears.

“It’s almost time.”

I stood up and adjusted the collar of my suit.

“My family lacks neither money nor cars.”

I took out my phone and called the butler.

“Bring out every car in the garage and mobilize all the bodyguards. Since Lucian isn’t coming to fetch me, I’ll go myself.”

By the time the motorcade arrived at the hotel, most of the guests had already gathered.

When the guests saw me enter alone with a group of bodyguards, they exchanged glances and began whispering among themselves.

I ignored the probing looks and walked straight toward the backstage lounge.

Just as I reached the door, I caught sight through the gap of Lucian sitting on the sofa, holding Marisol in his arms.

She had changed into casual clothes, yet still wore a fragile expression.

Marisol clung tightly to Lucian’s arm, practically pressing herself against him, holding a cup of hot water as she sipped from it in small, delicate mouthfuls.

“Did I cause you trouble again, Lucian? Eva must be angry…”

Lucian lowered his head and carefully wiped the water from the corner of her lips, his tone gentle.

“Don’t overthink it. You’re like this because you’re sick.

“If she doesn’t even have this much tolerance, then she doesn’t deserve to be my wife.”

Meanwhile, Miriam, seated in her wheelchair, not only failed to reprimand her son at the sight, but instead took Marisol’s hand, her face full of tender concern as she wiped away tears.

“Good child, you’ve suffered.

“It’s a good thing that Lucian values loyalty. This is the kind of responsibility a real man should have.

“Evangeline usually seems sensible, so why is she being so unreasonable today, even making a fuss over a car?”

Hearing this, a wave of nausea rose in my stomach.

This was the very woman I had spent the past year caring for.

No matter how busy I was with work, I had made time to visit the hospital, paid heavily for caregivers, and brought in specialists to keep her alive.

The values of this entire family were rotten to the core.

I pushed the door open, the loud crash startling everyone inside.

Lucian instinctively shielded Marisol behind him.

When he saw it was me, his brows furrowed.

“Why are you only here now? Everyone is waiting. And what are you wearing? Where is your wedding dress?”

I swept my gaze coldly across the three people in the room, finally letting it rest on Lucian’s impatient face.

“The dress was dirty. I threw it away.”

I spoke calmly. “Since everyone is here, let’s go. Don’t keep the guests waiting.”

Lucian seemed to relax, as if he thought I had compromised once again.

He stood up, adjusted his suit, and even tried to take my hand.

“Alright, stop sulking. After the wedding, I’ll explain everything to you.”

I stepped aside, avoiding his hand, my eyes devoid of any warmth.

“There’s no need to explain. Let’s go.”

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