No one moved until I walked out.

Then Flora's voice cut through. "Really, Mia? Making up some taaffeite ring story? Dad didn't even give ME one—why would he give it to her?"

The crowd jumped on it.

"Yeah, right. Like that ring's real."

"She even paid some guy who sounds just like Austin Anderson—the guy who basically runs the Anderson empire. Bet that cost a fortune."

Warren finally relaxed, smirking. "Please. Like she could ever land my uncle? No one else would even want her. Just being dramatic. Give it a few days—she'll be begging me to take her back."

Laughter burst out again, all the tension gone.

"Told you. She's obsessed with Warren."

"She'll drop the drama before the wedding."

***

The wind hit hard as I tried flagging a cab.

Then a sleek car rolled up.

Window down. Him.

Sharp jaw. Clean lines. Cool like he didn't even try.

"Get in." Calm voice. Zero room for debate.

I slid in. "Mr. Anderson."

He laughed. "That formal? Think I'm skipping out before payday? Relax. I keep my promises. Just call me by my name."

I did. That's when he nodded—like that's what he'd been waiting on.

He didn't bring up the scene back there. Maybe he was being nice.

He drove me straight to what should've been my future with Warren. But the second I saw those stupid flowers—[Warren Anderson and Mia Montclair Forever]—I felt sick.

This was supposed to be my home. Now it made my skin crawl.

The wallpaper? Loud and ugly. Flora's "forest vibe." Warren went with it, no questions.

She hated portraits, so our photo got swapped for some bland landscape.

She trashed my lavender garden. Warren turned it into a dog park—for her dog.

The more I saw, the worse it felt.

Right in front of Austin, I ripped the flowers off the wall, grabbed our photo, and cut Warren out.

"This isn't my home anymore."

I threw my stuff together, ready to crash at a hotel.

Austin had been leaning on the door, arms crossed, quiet. Then he stepped in, grabbed whatever I couldn't reach.

"If you need anything, say it. You don't have to handle this alone—not with me here."

I mumbled a quick thanks. Didn't push him away.

He packed fast and carried my suitcase like it weighed nothing.

The whole ride, I braced for him to drop me at the Montclair estate. My stomach was a mess.

But he didn't.

He pulled up to the city's most expensive hotel. Booked the presidential suite.

"I'll come by on the wedding day."

Then he handed me a black card. Eyes soft. Shadowed lashes. A hint of a smile that made me wonder if he was waiting for an invite in.

My heart skipped—I bolted.

I holed up in the hotel for a few days. Nobody bothered to check in—except Austin.

I thought maybe my dad would remember I was still his daughter, maybe show up, say something. He didn't. Not a call, not a word. Like I didn't even exist.

Fine. If he didn't care, I wasn't clinging to that title either. From now on, I was done depending on anyone but me.

Come wedding day, I grabbed my dress and headed downstairs—only to find a whole lineup of luxury cars outside, turning heads left and right.

Austin stood next to a limousine, sharp in a tailored suit, practically glowing. He looked right at me and held out his hand.

"Mia, I'm here to take you home."

The way he smiled made my heart skip.

After we got in the car, we rolled up to the church. I slipped backstage to change while Austin went to handle the guests.

Just as I finished getting dressed and waved off the staff, that voice I hated rang out.

"Mia, why are you here all alone?"

Flora, of course—leading a pack like she was the main act. They closed in like they were front-row for a trainwreck.

Warren, arm slung around her like some smug prizewinner, smirked. "Told you she was bluffing. And look—she still showed. So, where's this mystery groom? Go on, bring him out. We're dying to see."

Cue the laughter behind him.

Flora faked a pity look. "Mia, seriously? You went and hired someone just to mess with Warren? Now look at you—awkward and alone. Worth it?"

Someone in the crowd snorted, "That guy who dipped earlier? Totally an actor. Bet she paid big."

"She blew cash on a limited-edition limousine and a full motorcade for the drama. Must've cost a fortune. No wonder he bailed—probably off settling the bill!"

"I've never seen anyone crash and burn this hard."

"If this is how she acts in public, imagine the mess she is behind closed doors. Total waste of space."

Flora was practically glowing, but kept up the fake concern. "Okay, guys, that's enough. You'll make Mia cry."

I looked around at all of them talking trash and said, "You done?"

I let out a dry laugh. "You've really been working overtime—plotting one minute, stalking me the next.

"But if I was really racing to return a rented car, would I still be here, fully dressed for a wedding? Think, guys.

"If someone's spreading that kind of rumor, their brain's gotta be soup. No wonder they think everyone else is as pathetic as they are."

Someone snapped, "You just rejoined the Montclairs. Where'd you get the cash for a limousine? Who knows where that money came from?"

I shrugged. "Didn't you hear me at the engagement party? The car belongs to my new fiancé."

Silence. No comeback. No receipts. Just awkward quiet as their weak attempt to drag me crashed and burned.

Warren's face twisted. He stomped up and grabbed my arm. "New fiancé? So now you're throwing yourself at the first rich guy you see? You disgusting—"

Smack.

The slap cracked through the room, snapping his head to the side.

Warren held his cheek, staring like I'd just slapped the sky. "You hit me?"

Flora shrieked, shoved me. "Are you insane? How dare you hit Warren?! I'm telling Dad! He'll kick you out!"

I rolled my eyes. "What, you think you're bulletproof? FYI—false accusations are illegal. And you two? Playing engagement like it's some dumb skit? Zero shame."

Behind them, the makeup crew started whispering.

"Did he really bring his side chick to humiliate the real fiancée? Trash move."

"And that side chick was acting all superior too. Gross cheating couple..."

Warren's face twisted. Then he snapped—came at me, fists clenched. "You've lost it! Totally insane!"

I didn't move. Let him try. I'd have him cuffed in five with the bruises to back it up.

Didn't have to, though.

A hand caught his punch mid-air.

Then came that voice. Calm. Ice-cold.

"Warren, what are you doing?"

He froze. Spun around. "Uncle Austin?! What are you doing here?"

Austin didn't blink. "Didn't know I needed an invite."

Warren shut up fast.

Flora jumped in instead, dabbing at fake tears. "Mr. Anderson, please don't be upset. It's all my fault. I should've stopped Mia. Warren only snapped because of me."

Austin didn't even glance at her. His eyes were locked on me. "What happened?"

Flora rushed ahead. "It was just a silly joke! Mia freaked out, dumped Warren in front of everyone, then dragged in some random guy to fake being her groom. I followed her 'cause I was worried—and then she slapped Warren!"

Warren jumped in, red-eyed. "Even my dad's never hit me! And she smacked me in public! She needs to be put in her place. We're canceling the wedding—let her act out her little drama alone!"

Lie after lie, like they were building a wall.

Austin gave one nod. Looked straight at me. "You slapped him?"

I held his gaze, nodded.

Warren jabbed a finger at me. "See? She admitted it! This shameless woman—without some rich guy backing her, she wouldn't even get near a car like that!"

Austin raised a brow and fished out a key fob. The car logo was clearly visible on the car key.

"You mean MY car?" he said, all chill.

Warren's face went crimson. No words.

Flora tried to laugh it off. "Big misunderstanding! We must've gotten it wrong. Mia said she found someone else, so we just assumed she meant... you know, a random guy. That's why we thought the car was rented."

Austin let out a cold chuckle. "No misunderstanding. She DID find someone else."

He looked at me.

"I'm her groom."