~ Camilla's POV ~

The first thing I heard was static-like the rush of ocean waves inside my skull.

Then voices. Muffled. Urgent.

"...She's waking up."

"Camilla? Sweetheart... Can you hear me?"

My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, lashes damp with tears I didn't remember shedding. The ceiling spun above me as I tried to open my eyes. Tried sitting up, but Olivia pushed me gently back on the bed.

"Just stay still," she said, brows furrowed with worry.

My mother's pale, tear-stained face hovered into view. Beside her, Olivia gripped my hand so tightly my knuckles ached, her forced smile doing a terrible job of hiding the storm in her eyes. My stomach twisted.

It wasn't a dream. George hadn't shown up.

I pushed myself up slowly, every movement heavy with ached, as if an iron band had wrapped around it, tightening with every breath.

"Where...where is he?" My mother's expression crumpled.

"We don't know, darling. He never showed up at the venue. His phone is off. No one's seen him since last night."

The veil slipped from my shoulders, pooling around me like the ghost of a fairy tale that had died before it began. In the mirror across the room, I saw her, the bride who was supposed to be me. Makeup smudged, hair undone, eyes hollow like a doll cracked straight down the middle. A small laugh escaped my mouth.

"We talked last night, Mama... he said he couldn't wait to see me in my dress." I shook vehemently, fear engulfed me, and tears threatened to fall.

"It's okay baby" My mother wrapped me in her arms, patting my back softly.

What could've happened?! He couldn't leave me like that, could he? The thoughts kept ringing in my head.

A sharp knock shattered the silence. The door burst open, and my father stormed in like a thundercloud, suit half-buttoned, tie hanging loose, and jaw so tight it looked painful.

"This is a goddamn circus," he barked. "We're all over the internet. 'Abandoned at the altar.' Do you have any idea what this will do to our name?"

I flinched at the sound of his voice.

"James, please..." my mother began, but he cut her off with a wave.

"I told you that boy was trouble. And now he's dragged our entire family into disgrace!"

"I didn't know..." My voice came out small and raw. "Didn't know? he snapped.

"Didn't know you were marrying a coward who'd humiliate you-and us-on live broadcast?"

"Dad, something could have happened to him." My voice came out sharper than I thought it would.

"What could have happened to him? Wake up Camilla Baker, that boy has nothing to offer you but ruins."

"Okay, enough" Olivia shot back, standing so fast her chair scraped the floor. "She's the victim here."

My father turned on her; Olivia didn't flinch, she pressed on.

"You wanted this too, this wedding too; isn't only about her getting married," Olivia paused for a second.

"What?!" My father said voice low and stern, his face held an unexplained expression of rage.

"Whether George is a legitimate son of the Millers or not, he's the only son, and getting your daughter married to him would strengthen the ties of your company. Now, things goes south and you blame your daughter?"

"And who are you to tell me what to do in my own house?!" My father yelled angrily, rage all over his face. It was very obvious he cared less about what happened to George or how I was feeling.

"She is telling the obvious truth, John. "This isn't the time to blame anyone," my mother added, her voice soft, trying to calm my father down, who just angrily paced the room.

The silence that followed was suffocating. My breaths came short and shallow. My mother continuously tapped my back gently as if to tell me to hold my anger in.

I couldn't take it.

The walls were closing in.

I stood, my gown rustling like brittle leaves, and fled to the bathroom.

I slammed the door and collapsed to the cold tile floor, my knees buckling under the weight of it all.

I didn't cry.

I just sat there, drowning in layers of tulle, clutching the velvet ring box I never got to open. It felt weightless now.

Meaningless.

I didn't need to open it to know it was empty.

I could still hear my father's raging voice, my mother yelling as it turned to sobs, doors opening and slamming, then silence.

A soft knock on the bathroom door, but I didn't budge.

"You can come out now, Cam," Olivia said and continued knocking.

Just then my phone dinged; I didn't realize I was holding it all along.

My shaky hands swiped open the phone to see the heart-wrenching message my husband-to-be left behind:

I can't do this, Cam. I'm sorry, but ... you're not just good enough for me to settle with ..."

My heart sank; the whole cell in my body went numb.

Not good enough for two years...

How could he say this to me?!

Just when I start to think about where I had it all wrong, a message from an unknown source sends a picture of George and a woman half naked on the bed, but the woman's face was blurred out.

I held my breath in for a couple of seconds stunned...and that was when I felt it, the lump at the back of my throat and the pain of my heart ripping apart.

It all felt like a dream.

But it wasn't.

~ Unknown POV ~

The night sky glittered with stars as he stood on his rooftop balcony, the city lights sprawling beneath him like fallen constellations. A half-empty glass of whiskey dangled from his hand, the ice long melted. The wind tugged at his shirt, but he barely felt it. His mind wouldn't stop turning.

On his phone screen, the video of the abandoned bride dominated the news. The clip had already gone viral, spliced, remixed, memed, and dissected. Yet he wasn't interested in the spectacle. He was interested in her.

She hadn't cried, not at first. Not in public. Not until the very last second, when her knees gave out and her world visibly shattered.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself.

"Camilla Baker." He tested her name, tasting the weight of it. The faint smile that touched his lips vanished the moment he saw her father's face. Those same eyes stared back at him...haunting him once more, though this time it wasn't just physical. That look of fear and confusion... he wanted more of it.

He wanted to be the reason for that fear.

His lips curled into a slow, humorless smile as he raised the last of his whiskey. Fate had finally handed him leverage, and this time, he would use it.

A low, sharp laugh broke free from his chest, echoing into the night as his grip on the glass tightened.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his PA. It rang a few times before she finally answered.

"Get me a meeting with John Baker," he ordered, ending the call without another word.

--

~ Camilla's POV~

"No... no." My fingers trembled as I stared at the file the house help had delivered that morning.

My name. Bold across the top, right beneath the words Marriage Contract.

And in my father's handwriting.

This couldn't be real.

Mother had gone to the grocery store. Father hadn't spoken to me since the scandal, the wedding that never was. I knew he was furious, but this?

Tears spilled as I pressed the papers to my chest. My life already felt ruined, and now this contract was supposed to fix it?

I reached for my phone and dialed Olivia.

"Hi... can you come by after work?" My voice cracked.

She hesitated. "Cam... I've got a lot to finish today. I don't think I'll close early."

"Oh. Okay." I sniffled, staring down at the file. "It just feels like you've been avoiding me."

"Camilla, that's not true. I've just been busy. Wait... are you crying?"

"It's the same job you've had for weeks. You haven't called, haven't replied to my texts..." My throat tightened and the words tumbled out with the tears.

She sighed. "Calm down. I'm coming, okay?"

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia burst into my room. She wrapped me up without a word, her arms tight around me.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, cupping my face. "I shouldn't have left like that last week. I didn't know what to say to you."

I shook my head. "I just feel so alone. George cheating, the wedding... I just need closure."

"It's been two weeks, Camilla. You have to let him go. He's not worth it."

"It's not that easy," I whispered. "I even tried finding out who that woman in the picture was. The one that came blurred. Someone sent it to me for a reason... I need to figure it out."

Olivia pulled back, eyes flashing. "You what? Cam, we talked about this."

"Relax, I just... I need to know why he chose her over me." My voice shook. "Maybe it'll make sense of everything."

"To what end? It won't change what happened." She dropped my hands and paced.

"I know. But maybe it'll save me from what's coming." I slid the file toward her.

Her brows furrowed as she read, her mouth twisting. "What?! Camilla, this is insane."

"I know my Dad hates me now... but this is too much." My sobs broke again.

"Hey," she said softly, pulling me close again. "We'll figure this out. But stop chasing what's gone, it'll only hurt you more."

We sat on the bed in silence. My chest felt hollow, my head heavy.

"You want a drink?" she finally asked.

"Sure."

She came back with whiskey and glasses. We clinked and drank. The burn stung, but it dulled the ache a little.

"That's heartbreak doing its part," Olivia said with a crooked smile. "Whiskey just plays backup."

A weak laugh escaped me.

We drank, talked, even laughed over old memories. Then the silence came again.

"Do you think I wasn't enough?" I whispered.

"Don't." Her voice was firm. "You gave everything. He's the fool who didn't see it."

I leaned against her shoulder, tears dampening her sleeve. "I feel so stupid."

"You're not. You're human. And humans love the wrong people sometimes. That's all."

I nodded, clutching the glass in my hand.

"What are you going to do about the file?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. Dad hasn't spoken to me in weeks, and the first thing he does is send this."

"Maybe... maybe it's for the best," she muttered.

I turned my head sharply, but she looked away.

Silence hung between us.

"Where's the whiskey?" I finally whispered.

She poured another round, and we clinked glasses again, slower this time, sadder.

"Thanks for being here."

"Always," Olivia said. "You break, I break. That's the rule."

I smiled faintly. "Best friends."

"Best friends."

But inside, a storm brewed.

If my parents thought they could trade me off like a pawn, they had another thing coming.

Just... not tonight

~ Camilla's POV ~

The next morning came with a pounding headache. My temples throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the ache clawing at my chest. The whiskey had faded, but the memories hadn't. They burned, raw and unrelenting.

I needed answers.

The contract trembled in my hands, though I tried to hold it steady. Every word inked on that page felt like venom seeping into my veins. I stood in the doorway of the living room, staring at my parents as if they were strangers.

"You arranged a marriage behind my back?" My voice was sharper than I expected, slicing through the quiet. "With Travis Walker?"

My father didn't flinch. He sat there in his pressed shirt, coffee cup in hand, as calm as if I had asked him about the weather.

"You're lucky he's even willing," he said.

The words landed like a slap. I glanced at my mother, hoping she'd defend me, but she only shifted uncomfortably, her lips pressed into a tight line.

"I'm not doing it," I snapped. "I don't even know him. You had no right-"

"I had every right," my father cut in, standing slowly, his presence filling the room. His tone was iron, unyielding. "This isn't about rights, Camilla. This is about survival. If you hadn't been so damn foolish, we wouldn't be in this mess."

My breath hitched. My own father-blaming me.

"You're blaming me?"

His gaze hardened. "I warned you about George. From the very beginning, I told you. But you insisted. You paraded your heartbreak in front of the world, and you let the media feed on it. Our name became a joke, our investors walked away, and now you expect sympathy?"

Tears pricked my eyes. His words cut deep, sharper than any headline I had endured.

"I'm fixing it," he continued, his voice cracking for just a moment, almost too quiet to notice. "That's what I do. I clean up your mess."

His voice caught, and for a second he looked less like my father and more like a tired man who'd run out of fight.Then he forced it down, like he always did.

"You think I want this?" His hand tightened around the edge of the table. "You think I don't hate what this family has become?"

Finally, my mother spoke, her voice low. "We didn't want it to come to this, sweetheart. But your father is right. We don't have a choice."

I swallowed hard, anger swirling with grief. "You could have told me. You could have asked."

My father's eyes narrowed. "Would you have said yes?"

The silence between us was my only answer.

"Exactly," he said, brushing past me like the conversation was over. "You're marrying him. That's final. I won't let your pride bury this family any deeper. I've given you enough time to cry over that boy."

My voice cracked. "And if I refuse?"

He didn't look back. His words were ice.

"Then don't bother calling yourself my daughter."

"Dad?!" My voice broke, but he was already gone. I turned to my mother, desperation clawing at me. "Mom, you have to do something. I haven't even recovered from George. How can you let this happen?"

I caught the flicker in his eyes but it vanished, replaced by the calm, unshakable mask she always wore. She wrapped her arms around me, patting my back while I sobbed against her shoulder.

"My baby," she whispered, "your father's mind is made up. It's for the best."

I pulled away, my chest heaving. "This isn't right, Mom. There has to be another way."

"There's no other way, Camilla." Her tone was soft, but her words cut sharper than my father's. "Your father is trying to save your future."

"No, he's saving himself. His company. He doesn't care about me." My voice trembled with rage. "It's not my fault the wedding was called off. Why am I the one taking the blame?"

Her lips tightened. For the first time, her voice turned sharp.

"Because you are the weak one. And the weak always pay the price. That is why marrying Travis Walker is the best decision for you. For all of us. Listen to your father, Camilla."

Her words knocked the breath out of me. My mouth opened, but no sound came. When I finally found my voice, it shook.

"It's my life. You should let me choose. I don't love this man-I don't even know him."

Her eyes narrowed. "And what happened to the man you loved?"

I froze. The mention of George was enough to reopen every wound. She saw the pain, softened, and her voice dropped.

"Listen to me. My marriage to your father was arranged too. Look at us now. Love will come. It always does."

She took my hands, gripping them tightly, as if she could force her conviction into me.

"We love you. If there was another way, we would have taken it. But there isn't."

Then she let go. She hugged me briefly before turning away, her footsteps retreating down the hall.

I stood frozen in the silence, my tears drying on my cheeks. Something inside me shifted. The ache in my chest hardened into resolve.

If they were forcing me into this, then I would face Travis Walker on my own terms.

---

The café was too bright, too cheerful for the meeting ahead. Sunlight streamed through tall window. People around me laughed, worked, and lived as though the world wasn't caving in.

I sat in the corner booth, arms crossed, my stomach knotted.

11:58.

Two minutes early. Just enough time to run. But I stayed, my father's voice echoing in my head.

You're marrying him. That's final.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay.

A shadow fell across the table. I looked up. A man in dark pants and a blue T-shirt stood there, casual but confident.

"Camilla Baker?" His voice was calm, professional.

I nodded. "You're late, Billy Scott."

"Traffic," he said with a small shrug, shaking my hand.

I leaned forward, trying to steady my voice. "So, what do you have for me?"

He hesitated. "Whoever sent that message doesn't want to be traced. It'll take time."

Of course. Always time. "That's why I came to you. Don't tell me you can't do it."

"I didn't say that. I just need more time."

"Billy, this is my life. If you need more money, I'll pay. Just make it fast."

His expression shifted. "The only thing I managed was a location. An old hotel. But when I pulled the CCTV... everything from that day was gone. Wiped clean."

My shoulders slumped. Back to nothing.

"No nearby cameras? Street footage? Anything?" My voice was thin, desperate.

"There were some," he admitted, "but those were erased too. Someone doesn't want to be found."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Ms. Baker."

I forced a smile, stood, and left the café with disappointment heavy in my chest.

On the walk home, Olivia's words echoed in my head. Maybe it's for the best.

If I could find out who that woman was, the media storm would die, the investors would return, and I wouldn't have to marry a stranger. But now... now I was trapped.

Maybe it really was for the best.

At home, I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling as my breath came in shallow bursts. The contract sat on my desk, waiting like a curse. I hadn't even read it.

Dragging myself up, I reached for the file. My eyes landed on the name again.

Travis Walker.

My hands shook as I pulled open my laptop. Within seconds, his profile appeared on the screen.

My eyes widened.

No. It couldn't be.

Of all people-

The man my father wanted me to marry was none other than the arrogant, coffee-spilling jerk I had cursed at the airport.