The soft glow from the bedroom lights cast a cozy warmth as the bathroom water shut off. Ana Spencer stepped out, fresh from the shower, her heart a tangled mess of anticipation and nerves.

Catching sight of the broad-shouldered man perched on the bed's edge, she shyly dropped her gaze and offered a soft smile, her face glowing with the bliss of someone head over heels in love. Tonight, she would finally be with her fiancé, Jalen Ryan.

"I'm out of the shower, Jalen," she said, her smile hesitant as she drew near.

But in an instant, Jalen spun around, slamming her onto the bed, his hand tightening around her throat, his eyes burning with contempt. "You think you can manipulate me?" he snapped.

"Jalen... what are you talking about? I don't get it!" Ana stammered, frozen with terror.

Jalen let out a mocking laugh. "Keep playing the innocent act! You think pulling these dirty tricks would make me want you? If you're that cheap, fine—I'll play along."

If it weren't for his father breathing down his neck, he wouldn't have come back at all. The image of Elodie—his real love—stuck in a hospital bed made his blood boil toward Ana. If it weren't for Ana, Elodie wouldn't be lying there.

Still in her nightgown, Ana was dragged and shoved into Jalen's car. At first, she had no clue what was going on, but it didn’t take long for her to realize something was seriously wrong.

Ana had never known her mother. Her father and Jalen’s father had been army buddies way back. When her father passed, he left Ana in his friend's care—the very reason she ended up engaged to Jalen.

But Jalen only had eyes for Elodie. For seven years, Ana had given him her all, and never once had she won his heart.

Just before the wedding, Jalen planned to run off with Elodie. But on the way to the airport, Elodie got into a car wreck and had been in the hospital ever since.

Fed up with the lack of progress between Ana and Jalen, Jalen's father arranged a Thanksgiving dinner, secretly lacing the food with some concoction designed to push them together.

The effects were kicking in fast, leaving both of them miserable.

By the time the car stopped, Ana was almost out of her mind, clinging to Jalen. Then he hurled her out of the car like she was nothing.

"Jalen, I feel awful!"

"You brought this on yourself!" he sneered, grabbing her chin. "Did you really think some cheap potion would get me into bed with you? Since you're so desperate, go ahead—anyone who wants you can have you."

He dumped Ana at the mouth of an alley. She clutched his coat, begging. "Jalen, please don't leave me. I swear, it wasn't me!"

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Jalen shoved her off, climbed into his Bentley, and drove away without a backward glance.

Ana crumpled to the ground, trembling. The streets around her were lined with bars, and she didn't need a vivid imagination to picture the kind of people roaming around.

"Hey there, gorgeous. All alone? Let’s have a little fun."

Men started closing in, their intentions plain as day. Ana dug her nails into her palm, the sting keeping her tethered to reality.

"Get away from me! Leave me alone!" She grabbed a stick from the curb, swinging it to fend off the men who seemed like villains straight out of a nightmare.

Sprinting toward a nearby streetlight, Ana tripped and fell, the men still hot on her heels. Desperate, she grabbed a car door to pull herself up—and it opened. Gritting her teeth, she scrambled inside.

The men eventually backed off, and Ana breathed a sigh of relief. But her discomfort was only getting worse, tears prickling her eyes as she bit down on her hand.

Jalen...

Her head was swimming, and she collapsed onto the back seat. Whatever she leaned against felt strange—firm but giving, cool and weirdly comforting. She moaned softly, burrowing closer for comfort.

"Ah..."

Desmond Spencer's sharp eyes flew open. A little buzzed from a business dinner, he'd been resting while waiting for his assistant to drive him home. Instead, he found an unexpected guest curled right up against him.

He flicked on the car’s interior light, revealing a woman in pajamas nuzzled against him in the most unbelievable scenario.

Desmond frowned, nudging her gently away. Ana, lost in her daze, mumbled a protest and shifted right back against him.

"Who sent you?" he demanded, his tone serious.

Ana, mistaking his voice for Jalen's, clung to him. "Jalen, I knew you'd come back for me. It wasn't me, I swear! I've loved you for seven years—please, just tell me what to do to get another chance?"

Tears streamed down her face as she buried herself in his arms.

"You've got the wrong guy! Look at me—really look."

Ana squinted, but all she could see was Jalen. She snuggled against his chest, her skin soft, eyes glistening with an irresistible allure.

"You have to be Jalen—my future husband. I feel so awful, please help me..." she pleaded, sobbing into him.

Her boldness got to Desmond. Every time he tried to pull away, she just held on tighter, practically throwing herself at him.

Desmond, a man of iron will, felt his defenses crack. In a moment of weakness, he flipped their positions.

"You asked for this..."

***

The harsh sunlight dragged her awake. Ana slowly opened her eyes to an unfamiliar hotel room. Her heart plummeted, and she sat up, memories crashing down like a thunderstorm.

Last night, Jalen had abandoned her on the street. Chased by strangers, she'd stumbled into a car, and then...

She thought...

Ana’s eyes burned red as she clutched the sheets, feeling like daggers were twisting in her heart. Jalen had been so heartless, leaving her there. The marks on her body told her all she needed to know, and hot tears jerked her into painful awareness.

She let out a bitter laugh, numb as she climbed out of bed and reached for some clothes.

So Jalen had finally gotten what he wanted. Seven years of devotion, ended like this—so cruelly. Ana’s heart went cold as the truth settled in: she and Jalen were never meant to be.

Ana Spencer felt like she was drifting through life like a ghost, not even sure how she’d managed to find her way back to the Ryan estate.

As she stepped into the garden, she spotted Jalen Ryan on his knees, with his mother, Ruth, hovering close by. The second Ruth laid eyes on Ana, she stormed toward her, the sharp click-clack of her heels slamming against the pavement—and then bam, a stinging slap landed right across Ana’s face.

“You’re nothing but bad luck. Always bringing trouble on my son.”

Ana cupped her burning cheek, completely blindsided by the attack.

“Mrs. Ryan, I—”

“Quiet! Who said you could address me? How dare you show your face here again? Stay out all night and waltz right back in, flaunting those clothes like you’re announcing to the world you’ve been off doing God knows what with some lowlife!”

Ruth’s anger flared as her gaze latched onto Ana’s designer outfit. If it weren’t for this girl, her son wouldn’t be knee-deep in this mess. In Ruth’s book, Ana was nothing but trouble wrapped in pulse and skin.

Ana forced a bitter smile. She knew this whole situation was Jalen’s doing, yet somehow she was the one getting roasted for it.

“Mrs. Ryan, maybe get your facts straight before pointing fingers. You know damn well who’s really at fault here.”

“Oh, you’ve found your voice now, have you? Feeling all wounded? You’ve been living under our roof for years, clinging to my son without an ounce of shame. Jalen doesn’t want you, and whatever mess is going on, that’s on you.”

Having lost her father and depending on the Ryans for everything, Ana knew she had zero ground to stand on.

“What’s all this noise about?” Edward Ryan, Jalen’s father, strode closer with a stern face, shooting a cold look at Ruth. “Are you still putting on a spectacle?”

“Edward, just look at this! Am I wrong? Sure, you once had a soft spot for this girl, but now she’s damaged goods. A woman like that has no business marrying our Jalen. Elodie is a way better match—”

“Do you want to go kneel right out there next to your son?” Edward shot his wife a look so pointed it shut her up instantly.

Edward took Ana’s arm gently and led her inside. As she passed Jalen, she caught the raw hostility burning in his eyes, and her heart dropped into her stomach. It was crystal clear—whatever she and Jalen had was dead and gone.

In the study, Edward poured her a cup of coffee. “Ana, I know what happened. This is partly on me. Just calm down; I’ll make sure Jalen apologizes to you.”

Ana smiled wistfully as she set the cup aside. “Mr. Ryan, there’s no need. Some things can’t be forced. I’ve come to terms with it. Maybe…”

“Ana, I can bend on just about anything, but not this wedding. I made a promise to your father that I’d look after you. This whole disaster is Jalen’s doing. Tell me what it’ll take to make it right. He’ll stay on his knees until you’re satisfied.”

“Mr. Ryan, why are you pushing this? You’ve done more than enough for me. I can handle myself.”

“No! I have to keep my word to your father. Everything else is on the table. If Elodie’s presence bothers you, she can be sent abroad—whatever it takes for you to feel safe here.”

“Mr. Ryan, doing that’ll just make Jalen hate me even more. Can’t you see? He doesn’t care about me. I’ve tried everything.”

“Feelings can grow. He’ll come around. No matter what, this wedding is happening.”

Edward wouldn’t budge. Ana stared at him, her brows knitting hard, then stood. “Mr. Ryan, I’ve decided to move out.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Forced love never works. I wish you’d just let this go. My dad wanted me to be happy.”

“Jalen will treat you right; I’ll see to it.”

“Can you watch him every second, Mr. Ryan? You can guard a person, but not their heart.” As she peered out the window at that stubborn figure still down below, her chest felt heavier than ever.

“Let’s just end this, Mr. Ryan. I’m exhausted. I’ve made up my mind—it’s done.”

Edward saw the steel in her eyes and knew his son’s actions had carved wounds too deep. He stepped closer, his voice pleading. “Ana, give him one last chance. The invitations have already gone out, everything’s set—we can’t afford a scandal like this. I swear to you, he’ll do right by you. Do I have to get down on my knees?”

Edward started to kneel, desperate to sway her.

She rushed to stop him. “Mr. Ryan, you’re putting me in an impossible spot.”

“Please, just take a few days to think. I’ll be right here, waiting for you to change your mind. We’re not calling off the wedding.”

No matter what Ana said, Edward refused to let her leave the Ryan household.

He truly loved her like his own flesh and blood, but she couldn’t force herself to stay where she wasn’t wanted. Edward’s stubbornness only made it harder on her.

Soon, a heavy downpour started pounding outside. Watching from the window, Ana saw Jalen still kneeling in the rain, just as bull-headed as ever. The sight only froze her heart over more.

It felt like he genuinely despised her. Forcing them together was a dead end.

Jalen stayed on his knees a full day, finally collapsing unconscious in the storm. The house erupted into chaos as Edward and Ana looked on while he was carried inside, Ruth ramming past Ana with a glare that could kill.

“If anything happens to Jalen, I’ll never forgive you.”

Ana stayed stone-faced, just watching. The guy she’d poured seven years of love into was now someone she was ready to walk away from.

No point in slicing each other open any further.

Back in her room, Ana threw a few clothes into a bag and, under the cover of night, slipped out of the Ryan house without a soul noticing.

“Sir, Miss Spencer left this,” a servant handed Edward a note the next morning.

After reading it, Edward snapped at his wife, “Look at the damn mess you and Jalen have made. Find her! Whatever it takes, bring her back.”

Ana figured leaving the Ryan house would be the final chapter. She planned to slide back into her ordinary life, shut that door for good. But not even two days later, Edward Ryan showed up at her tiny apartment himself, begging her to come back.

“Ana, I don’t break promises made to your father. Please, come home. Jalen’s come around—he’s agreed to the marriage. Do it for me. Give him one last chance, yeah?”

Edward Ryan's stubborn persistence left Ana Spencer with no room to refuse.

When she finally nodded, Edward's face broke into a delighted grin. "Don't you worry about what anyone else thinks. I know exactly what's on your mind. Once the wedding's over, you'll have your own space, and if anything comes up, you just come talk to me. For now, I've set you up at a hotel where no one will bother you. Just kick back and look forward to being a bride!"

Ana was tucked away in the hotel, enjoying a few days of quiet.

On the wedding day, she woke up early, swarmed by a flurry of people fussing over her every little detail. She felt like a puppet being styled into something almost too perfect. Staring into the mirror, she saw a breathtaking princess looking back at her—regal and stunning. She'd always dreamed of this day, but now, her feelings were a tangled mess she couldn't name.

In the grand ballroom, guests packed into every seat. Everyone in the city knew about this wedding, and the crowd was full of big shots and socialites.

Ana had agreed to the marriage mostly out of gratitude for Edward's kindness.

As the clock ticked closer to the main event, Ana stood ready, waiting… but Jalen was nowhere to be found.

"Did something go wrong?" she wondered, catching Edward outside through the mirror, his face creased with panic as he whispered orders to the makeup artist. Something definitely felt off.

The makeup artist gave a reassuring smile. "Don't stress, Ana. Today, you're the bride. Just focus on looking gorgeous." Despite the soothing words, a knot of anxiety tightened in Ana's chest.

As it neared noon, Jalen still hadn't shown. Ana smiled faintly at her own reflection, fully grasping what was unfolding. She stood, ready to walk out, only to be blocked by the makeup artist. "Miss Spencer, the ceremony's about to start—you can't leave."

"There's no point pretending anymore—Jalen didn't come. How exactly is a wedding supposed to happen with just me up there?" If he'd planned to be here, he would have shown by now.

It was her own soft heart that had let this painful truth sink in. The night he walked out on her, she should've known she meant nothing to him.

"Let me go!"

"Miss Spencer, you really can't just walk out."

As they argued, the door swung open and Edward strode in. "Ana, it's time. The ceremony is starting. The makeup artist will take you to the hall—you'll see Jalen in just a second."

"Mr. Ryan, I…"

"Still calling me Mr. Ryan? Pretty soon you'll be calling me something else. It's tradition you two don't see each other before the ceremony, so don't overthink it." Edward shot her a reassuring look before turning away, his expression hardening.

"Did you find him?"

The people trailing behind him shook their heads, and Edward's face darkened with frustration. "Useless idiots! Can't even track down one person. I'll go drag that stubborn boy here myself! Keep an eye on things—don't screw this up."

"Go on! I've got everything handled here, don't worry." Ruth smiled sweetly, watching Edward's car drive off with a cold, calculating glint in her eye.

"Ana Spencer, I will never let a fallen woman like you ruin my son's life." She muttered under her breath, dialing a number. "Everything ready? Good, start now."

Backstage, Ana waited with the makeup artist, her stomach churning.

When the music started, Ana's nerves spiked. Had Jalen finally arrived?

The melody played, and a clear voice rang out from the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's welcome today's star, the most beautiful bride, Ana Spencer!"

Every girl dreams of being walked down the aisle by her father. Today, Ana walked alone, but she still managed a smile, imagining her dad watching from above. She wanted him to see that she would be happy.

Standing on the stage, she was the center of everyone's attention.

"The bride is stunning, so our groom must be quite the catch too. Give a big round of applause as the groom makes his debut!"

As the seconds ticked by, Ana stood alone on the stage, waiting for Jalen, who never appeared. The guests started murmuring—a groom vanishing at his own wedding was serious gossip.

"I heard Jalen doesn't even care about Ana, he's just being forced into this."

"How pathetic can you get? If it were me, I would've never agreed to a marriage like this. Totally shameless."

Ana felt the weight of all those curious, judgmental stares, stuck there with nowhere to hide.

Then, images flashed onto the giant screen behind her. The crowd gasped. Ana spun around, her heart dropping as blown-up photos of her disheveled state from that night on the street filled the screen.

"Oh my god! So she's a total tramp, dressed like that at night—probably out hooking up, and with multiple guys even!"

"What a disgrace to her family. No wonder the groom didn't bother showing up."

"Look, she's getting into a car. Who knows what went down in there? Then coming out of a hotel in different clothes—shameless!"

The whispers grew into a roar, everyone pointing and gossiping, while Ana stood frozen. She had no idea where those photos came from. Scanning the crowd, she spotted Ruth smirking wickedly in the corner, and it all clicked.

Ruth had orchestrated the whole thing. She was out to destroy Ana's reputation.

Someone from the crowd shouted, "Why go through with this joke of a wedding? Get off the stage already! If I were the groom, I wouldn't have shown either."

Standing there, Ana clenched her fists tight. What had she ever done to deserve this? Why did Jalen's family treat her like garbage? Her quiet endurance had only made them bolder.

In that moment, rage boiled up inside her—toward everyone who had shoved her into this spotlight. She suddenly snatched the microphone from the emcee, facing the crowd. "The wedding is happening."

If they wanted a spectacle, she'd give them one.

She was about to go on when the doors burst open. A tall, commanding figure strode up the aisle, microphone in hand, making his way toward her.

"Sorry I'm late." Dazed, she watched him approach, the lights revealing his face. In that instant, Ana was stunned speechless.

How could it be him?

As he stopped right beside her, the crowd erupted in shock.

Because the man on that stage was none other than Desmond Spencer—the one person whose influence no one in this city could match.