Your Regret Isn't My Problem

Eric's hands twitched, but he didn't move.

I kept the blade steady, dragging Briana with me toward the door.

"What do you want?" he snapped, jaw tight.

"Easy," I said, chin lifted. "I walk out safe—and you both stay far away. At least until I marry Shelby."

"Fine! Fine, I promise!" He waved the bodyguards off, fast.

I backed out, Briana still in front of me. We made it through the corridor.

At the entrance, I shoved her straight into Eric's arms—then vanished into the night.

And just like they promised, they never came near me again.

Everything stayed chill... right up to the wedding.

The Leones and Santoros were buzzing from sunrise. Two weddings, one day? Total spectacle.

Carmorian tradition said the bride had to wear a lace veil until the private reveal. So, I kept mine on the whole time.

Right before I left the bridal suite, Eric texted:

[Lena, just follow the maid later. Don't worry, my brother won't be into you. I'll come get you first thing in the morning!]

I rolled my eyes and blocked him.

The bride swap went off without a hitch—exactly how Eric and Briana planned it.

That night, I sat on the edge of the bed, hands clammy, heart racing.

The door creaked open.

Footsteps. Calm, steady.

Fingers brushed back the lace veil.

***

Shelby.

No shock. No double take.

Just this quiet look—like he'd known it was me the whole time.

He let out a low chuckle. "Took you long enough."

I smirked. "Appreciate the help with the footage."

Shelby and I went way back.

Last time around, Briana bailed on the wedding, and Shelby got dragged through the mud.

Me? I married Eric. Ended up broken, beaten... dead.

Never did I learn what happened to Shelby.

Right after I came back, I reached out to him.

No hesitation—he helped me, no questions asked. That's when it hit me... maybe he actually liked me.

But if that was true, then why did he want to marry Briana at all?

While I was lost in thought, Shelby stepped closer, and I caught the sharp tang of alcohol.

"You've been drinking?" I glanced up.

"Everyone kept toasting." His jaw tightened, hands curling into fists. "Something's wrong."

Right then, his breathing went shaky.

His eyes flared—wild, burning. I jerked back.

"It was spiked."

My stomach sank. I didn't need proof—this had Briana written all over it.

"Lena." His voice dropped, rough and strained. "Don't look at me."

But I did.

Met his eyes, steady.

Then he kissed me.

Hard. Desperate. Like he was falling apart and I was the only thing holding him up.

His hands shook.

He was trying not to lose control.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissed him soft.

"It's okay," I breathed against his lips. "I want this."

His arms locked around me like he'd never let go.

"Okay."

***

After a long night wrapped up in each other, I was still curled against him when—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The pounding on the door yanked us both out of sleep.

"Open up! Open this door now!"