Time slipped away, and the wedding day loomed ever closer.

After the engagement, Ellie and Theo plunged headfirst into a whirlwind of romance—dinners under candlelight, long drives through the city, and an extravagant Valentine's celebration.

Meanwhile, Gracie hadn't heard from Brayden since that last, measured conversation in his study. She'd buried herself in research instead, finding solace in the quiet hum of her laboratory.

After several rounds of negotiation, the two families agreed to host both weddings on the same day—a grand double ceremony designed to dazzle society.

The night before the wedding, a pristine white gown and a box of glittering accessories arrived at Gracie's door, all carefully prepared and sent by Brayden's assistant.

As promised, Brayden maintained the façade in public, presenting her with all the poise and reverence her title demanded.

"Ms. Sullivan," Charlie Willis, the assistant, said with a respectful nod. "This is a bespoke haute couture gown Mr. Brayden Stanley commissioned three months ago. And these are rare blue diamonds, handcrafted by a master jeweler from a centuries-old atelier and personally selected by him."

The gown shimmered under the light, the necklace catching glimmers like captured starlight.

Gracie merely curved her lips into a serene smile. "Thank you," she said softly, her tone calm, unshaken by the grandeur before her.

Brayden's earnestness couldn't be denied. As long as she upheld their agreement, she figured, he would keep his end of the bargain.

Once Charlie left, Gracie turned back and found Ellie lingering in the living room.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Ellie said with a faint edge of envy glinting in her eyes. "Marrying Brayden definitely puts you above the rest."

Recalling all that Ellie had done in her previous life, Gracie saw no point in engaging with someone so small-minded. Her voice remained calm and cool. "You and Theo seem to get along well. I doubt he'll cut corners. Every detail of the gown and accessories must be selected with thoughtful precision."

In their previous life, Theo had hidden behind a flawless façade, revealing his true nature only three months after their marriage. Before that wedding, the gown and jewelry he'd arranged for her, while modest compared to what Brayden had given her in this life, were still of respectable quality.

Even so, Gracie's calm remark cut deep into Ellie's pride.

Theo had reasoned that since both weddings were to be held on the same day—and Brayden was the family heir—it wouldn't be proper for theirs to appear more extravagant.

Though Ellie's gown and accessories were elegant enough, beside Gracie's dazzling ensemble, they seemed dull and inferior.

"Feeling proud of yourself, are you?" Ellie curled her lips into a spiteful smile, her eyes gleaming darkly. "Don't get too cozy."

In their previous life, she had destroyed Brayden, leaving him scarred and crippled.

Now, she convinced herself that with Theo's love, she could lift him to the position of heir.

Gracie gave only a mild nod, unwilling to waste another word, and brushed past Ellie with quiet grace.

At four in the morning, the makeup team showed up. Gracie and Ellie were assigned to separate rooms to get ready.

Having spent the entire night absorbed in her research, Gracie had barely caught an hour of sleep. Even as the stylist unpacked her brushes and palettes, her own thoughts lingered on a single line of data looping in her mind.

"That's strange," the makeup artist muttered, frowning as she twisted open a tube. "This lipstick looks off. Could it be expired?"

"Doubtful," the assistant stammered, her tone edged with unease. "I think it's just how it is. We're running out of time—let's use a different shade for her instead."

The makeup artist, unconcerned, reached for another tube and leaned closer to Gracie's lips.

"Hold on," Gracie interjected, lifting a hand to stop her. "Let me take a look at that lipstick first."

Her gaze shifted toward the assistant, and for a split second, she caught the flicker of panic flashing across her face.

The makeup artist passed the lipstick to Gracie. "It does look odd, but maybe that's just how this brand is. Good thing we've got a few backups."

The assistant added quickly, "Right, we'll save this one in case we need to touch up during the ceremony."

Gracie lowered her eyes, uncapped the lipstick, and studied the smooth surface. She lifted it closer, inhaled lightly, and a faint smile ghosted across her lips.

The scent gave it away—it contained peanut powder. And she was allergic to peanuts.

No one but Ellie would be this malicious. Gracie couldn't imagine anyone else going to such lengths.

Ellie had always favored such petty tricks, even in their previous life.

Gracie's lips curved in a knowing smile as she handed the lipstick back, then beckoned the makeup artist closer with a single, elegant gesture.

Bending slightly, the artist listened while Gracie murmured something under her breath.

The assistant hovered uneasily, straining to catch their words but hearing nothing.

A moment later, the makeup artist's face changed subtly, and she nodded with quiet resolve. "Got it."

When the final touches of makeup were done, the bridesmaids entered the room in a flurry of satin and perfume.

Gracie had only one—Jessie Holt, her lifelong best friend and partner in mischief.

Jessie leaned close, her eyes gleaming as she whispered, "Everything's set, just like you wanted. But seriously, how did you guess Lia would pull that stunt? Are you sure she's even coming to the wedding?"

Brayden's heart had always belonged to Lia Douglas. In their previous life, Ellie had gone after Lia time and again, desperate to claim Brayden for herself. In the end, she'd even joined forces with his enemy to orchestrate a trap that left him grievously injured—his once-sharp features scarred, his powerful frame bound to a wheelchair.

Lia, the woman he had nearly died protecting, stayed by his side for three months. But when she saw he could no longer serve her ambitions, she walked away without looking back.

"I can't say for certain," Gracie murmured, her lips curving into a serene smile. "But it never hurts to be prepared."

In their previous life, Lia had barged into the wedding and turned the crowd's sympathy against Ellie.

Jessie gave a thoughtful nod. "You're right. Even if your marriage to Brayden is just a contract and you're not coming between them, Lia might still take it personally. Better to stay alert."

Gracie had confided in Jessie for a reason—because in that other lifetime, Jessie had died protecting her from Theo's rage.

Gracie had made up her mind—this time, she wouldn't let anything happen to her friend.

Soon, the brides and grooms made their way to the grand ceremony hall.

At the entrance, the four of them paused—Gracie and Brayden standing at the forefront, poised and elegant, while Ellie and Theo followed just a step behind.

When the doors finally swung open, a wave of applause burst forth, echoing through the glittering venue like a tide of celebration.

With effortless charm, Brayden offered his hand, and Gracie took it, the two stepping inside in quiet sync.

To the guests, they seemed every bit the elegant, harmonious couple.

Ellie followed a short distance behind.

Just before walking out, she dabbed on a final layer of lipstick, checked her reflection, and looped her arm through Theo's with a confident smile.

Yet the moment the spotlight hit her, the air went eerily quiet, the festive buzz collapsing into stunned silence.

A sudden throb of unease rippled through Ellie. Heat flared along her lips, then crept across her cheeks in a spreading burn.

Her pulse quickened as she turned toward Theo. "What's happening? Is there something wrong with my face?"

Theo's brows drew together, his voice steady but edged with concern. "Relax. It looks like a mild allergic reaction. I'll have someone bring ointment right away."

Ellie froze, disbelief flickering across her face. An allergic reaction? That couldn't be right. The suffering was meant for Gracie all along, not her!

A sharp glint of malice lit her eyes as realization struck. Gracie had clearly meddled with it! That deceitful woman—when had she learned to turn the tables so ruthlessly?

Kevin and his son, Erik Stanley, occupied the front row, both wearing grim, unreadable expressions.

The ceremony was a lavish spectacle, drawing every influential figure in town. Perfection was the bare minimum—any slip would turn their family into tomorrow's gossip fodder.

And yet, Ellie managed to stumble at the most pivotal moment, her thoughtless mistake souring both Kevin's and Erik's impressions.

Still, the wedding had to go on; this wasn't the moment for chaos.

Theo quietly ordered someone to fetch a doctor and ointment.

While they waited, the ceremony pressed forward as though the disruption had never occurred.

Brayden cast a look at Gracie. Her expression remained composed—no shock, no trace of satisfaction.

As the rings were exchanged, Brayden clasped her hand and murmured, "You don't look the least bit surprised by Ellie's allergic reaction."

Gracie's lashes flickered, and for an instant, her poise faltered.

He stood a full head taller, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. The cool gaze that looked down at her was edged with both curiosity and a silent warning.

She hesitated before the realization settled in. Her family stood to gain so much from this alliance. She had signed the agreement, yet she knew his distrust remained. Was he wondering whether ambition might one day stir in her—whether she might grow possessive, and try to claim him not just in name, but in truth? Could she even become a threat to Lia, that gentle, sweet woman, if it meant securing what she wanted?

Their hands remained joined, yet neither moved closer, the air between them weighted with distrust.

Gracie's tone remained even. "Since I was the one targeted, it's only fair I look out for myself—and remind her not to test her luck. Marrying you doesn't give anyone the right to push me around."

Brayden's gaze sharpened. "Ellie caused trouble for you?"

Her lashes fluttered as she looked down, silent confirmation in the gesture.

"Lia's not that kind of person," Brayden said calmly. "You've got nothing to worry about."

A faint, almost indifferent smile touched Gracie's lips, the kind that revealed nothing of what she truly thought.

In the blink of an eye, a bright, melodic voice cut through the murmurs. "Brayden."

From the crowd stepped a poised woman in a flowing white gown that shimmered under the lights—so reminiscent of a wedding dress it drew every eye in the room. A faint, ironic smile curved her lips. "As your good friend, I brought a wedding gift."

No doubt about it—it was Lia.

The crowd went utterly still.

Brayden's jaw tightened, his expression hardening as a deep frown shadowed his face.

Kevin shot Erik a sharp look and hissed, "What the hell is this? How did she even get in here?"

They had long been aware of Brayden's relationship with Lia, but her background offered no benefit to their ambitions. That was why Kevin had pushed Brayden into marrying a Sullivan daughter instead.

Gracie turned slightly, catching sight of Lia stepping gracefully from the crowd.

Her beauty was striking—an ethereal mix of poise and innocence that naturally stirred a man's instinct to protect her.

To their left, Ellie and Theo had just exchanged rings. The moment Ellie spotted Lia, her smile deepened, curling into something far too pleased.

It was happening all over again—history looping like a cruel joke from another lifetime. Only this time, the one destined for humiliation was Gracie, not her.

"This is a music box." Lia said softly, stepping toward Gracie and Brayden with an air of calm that didn't quite mask her trembling composure. Her delicate fingers brushed the lid as she smiled—a gentle, almost innocent curve that failed to hide the wistful sorrow in her eyes. She murmured, her voice carrying just enough ache to stir the crowd, "It was a gift from Brayden. A symbol of our love."

Only the three of them caught her final words.

Brayden's jaw tightened, anger flickering in his eyes. "Lia, go home."

He had told her countless times that his marriage to Gracie was nothing more than a convenient front.

They'd agreed that once the moment was right, they'd end it cleanly, leaving no ties behind.

Yet Lia, fragile and anxious, could never let it rest—forever doubting, forever asking whether he still loved her, as if hearing it once could never be enough.

With quiet poise, Gracie smiled, unbothered by the all-too-familiar setting.

"Inside is our song, Brayden," she said softly. Lia acted as though Brayden hadn't spoken at all. With trembling fingers, she flipped open the lid and set the music box playing.

She wanted every guest at the wedding to see—to understand—that she, not Gracie, was the one Brayden had truly loved.

Even if her defiance infuriated Brayden, she didn't care. All she wanted was for Gracie to remember this day forever—with nothing but hatred in her heart for the man she'd married. Only then could she feel certain he would never slip from her grasp.

As the lid lifted, the music box chimed to life, its tinkling notes floating through the hall.

Gracie's calm wavered; a faint smile touched her lips, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

But the tune never came. Instead, a scratchy recording spilled from the tiny speaker.

"I've stuck by his side all this time, and all I get are worthless little gifts. Just wait—once I marry into the Stanley family, I'll make sure he hands over shares in the company."

The voice belonged unmistakably to Lia.

Lia froze. How could this be? Her fingers trembled as she fumbled to stop the recording, panic flashing across her face when she looked at Brayden.

His expression had turned thunderous, that icy stare freezing her in place.

From below, the guests whispered in a rising tide of curiosity and shock.

Ellie, who had expected to relish the drama, felt an odd mix of irritation and unease.

Only she possessed the advantage of memories from another lifetime. Who else would could have sabotaged Lia's little act if not her? How could this be possible?

Gracie stepped forward to retrieve the music box from Lia's trembling hands. "Thank you for the gift," she said evenly. "You can return to your seat now."

A perceptive staff member moved at once, guiding the ashen-faced Lia back to her place among the guests.

The ceremony continued as if nothing had happened.

Brayden slid the ring onto Gracie's finger, his voice low enough for her alone. "It wasn't supposed to happen. I'm sorry."

His remorse sounded genuine, and for a fleeting moment, Gracie softened. "Do you even know who Lia really is?" she asked quietly, her tone carrying more concern than accusation.

"This is between the two of us," Brayden said, his tone frosty. "You'd do well to stay out of it."

Gracie curved her lips into a faint smile. "Then I suppose I spoke out of turn."

In that moment, a shadow shifted at the edge of her vision—someone was coming closer.

For a heartbeat, fragments of her past life surged to the surface, making her hands tremble despite herself.

That visceral fear—one she could never unlearn—belonged solely to Theo.

Noticing her subtle recoil, Brayden furrowed his brow. With an almost imperceptible motion, he shifted his stance, placing himself squarely between Gracie and Theo.

The small, protective gesture seemed to calm her; the stiffness in her shoulders softened.

What was it about Theo that frightened her? It puzzled Brayden—he was certain the two had never even met before the engagement.

The ceremony dragged on, and once it concluded, the banquet began, and guests began to raise their glasses in polite toasts to the newlyweds.

Whether by coincidence or deliberate intent, Brayden always seemed to place himself between Gracie and Theo.

The subtle barrier he created was something Gracie couldn't quite make sense of, yet it shielded her from any more fear.

By the time darkness spread across the estate, the celebration had faded to soft music and scattered laughter. The newlyweds were finally ushered to their suites.

Gracie politely excused herself and slipped into the bathroom to freshen up.

A sharp knock echoed through the suite.

Gracie froze, listening as Brayden went to answer it. His voice turned clipped. "Why are you here?"

"Brayden, please listen to me." Lia's tone was delicate, trembling just enough to sound sincere. "That recording was fake. I never said any of it."

Feeling awkward, Gracie turned on the shower, hoping the sound of rushing water would drown out the couple's private conversation.

Still, Lia's muffled sobs slipped through the hiss of the water.

"All this time, I've known how much you've sacrificed for us." Lia's voice trembled between pauses. "I understand you never wanted this marriage... What I said at the ceremony—it came from jealousy. You can't imagine how long I've dreamed of walking down the aisle with you. Before we ever said our vows, you already belonged to another, didn't you?"

Her tone dripped with delicate sorrow, each word threaded with just enough fragility to draw sympathy.

Her voice, low and tremulous, carried that practiced vulnerability that made even Gracie's chest tighten for a fleeting second—let alone Brayden, who had long been swayed by her gentle demeanor.

What sounded like an apology was, in truth, a masterful twist of guilt—an accusation cloaked in remorse, designed to sting while appearing soft-spoken.

Any man with a shred of conscience would have felt a twinge of guilt.

Right on cue, Brayden's voice drifted through the thin wall. "I've said this more times than I can count. If you're feeling uneasy, I'll make time for you. But Gracie has nothing to do with what's between us—she isn't your rival. She won't affect our relationship."

A humorless breath slipped from Gracie's lips. She couldn't tell whether to laugh or sigh. The irony was sharp—every word he used to defend her would only make Lia hate her more, as if his calm explanations were drawing the target squarely onto her back.

Still, Gracie had no doubt left that Brayden was nothing like Theo.

After her shower, she found Brayden waiting with a folded set of pajamas in hand. His manner was calm and restrained, his face unreadable beneath that composed exterior. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on the sofa," he said with polite finality.

She didn't bother refusing. "Thanks," she murmured, too weary to argue.

The moment her head touched the pillow, exhaustion pulled her under.

By morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains—and the room was silent. Brayden had vanished. A neatly dressed man in a tailored suit waited outside the door—Brayden's assistant, Charlie.

"Mr. Stanley had an urgent matter to attend to," he said politely. "He asked me to see you home. I've taken the liberty of ordering breakfast for you. I'll drive you over to his villa once you've finished."

"Alright. Thank you," she replied softly.

Just as breakfast arrived, her phone started to ring.

She picked up the call.

"Hi, Gracie!" Her assistant, Phoebe Quinn's cheerful voice came on the line. "How's married life treating you on day one?"

"Spare me the small talk," Gracie said dryly, already sensing trouble.

Phoebe gave a nervous laugh. "Right, well… our team's main machine just broke down."

The spoon froze halfway to Gracie's lips. A chill crept through her chest. "You're telling me the machine worth millions just broke?"

Though she had an entire research team under her command, she kept that fact under wraps, claiming she was just another employee to keep Ellie and Jane from catching wind of it. In truth, the whole research company belonged to her.

Phoebe's tone carried an awkward edge as she admitted, "Those machines are delicate, and with the company short on funds, replacing one isn't exactly easy."

A wave of pressure settled over Gracie's chest. "Alright. I'll handle it."

Once the call ended, she leaned back and mentally tallied her remaining assets, the weight of every dollar pressing on her mind.

Her savings existed, but buying high-precision machines would still drain her dry.

Worry gnawed at her, killing her appetite.

When she stepped into the elevator downstairs, she unexpectedly came face-to-face with Theo and Ellie. They stood shoulder to shoulder, an unmistakably intimate pair.

Ellie's eyes flicked over Gracie with thinly veiled disdain. "Where's Brayden, Gracie? Why are you wandering around by yourself? Did you actually spend your wedding night alone?"

Ellie's tone dripped with mockery, her chin tilted in smug amusement.

Gracie met her gaze with an easy smile. "He had work to handle."

"How heartless," Ellie sneered, feigning sympathy. "It's your wedding night, for heaven's sake. No man that busy should abandon his bride." She tossed her hair back, looping her arm through Theo's with a tinkling laugh. "You really should put more effort into your looks. Don't give other women a chance to swoop in. The wedding was humiliating enough—if Brayden ends up in a scandal, the entire family will take the hit."

Gracie, untouched by the jab, stayed as serene as ever. "It's fine," she replied, her tone as cool as still water.

That unbothered composure only fueled Ellie's irritation; trying to get a reaction from Gracie felt like shouting into a void.

Her smile stiffened as she tightened her grip on Theo's arm, resentment flickering in her eyes. In her mind, Gracie's indifference was nothing more than a façade—just a desperate attempt to save face in front of her.

She was sure Gracie had spent the night crying, and the thought alone brightened her mood.

Theo's eyes, however, lingered on Gracie for a moment longer than expected.

Sensing his scrutiny, Gracie instinctively shifted to stand partly behind Charlie, using him as a quiet shield.

A flicker of disdain crossed Theo's face, sharp and fleeting, before he looked away. Gracie really did seem as useless as Ellie had said.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.

Ellie strutted out first. "So, Gracie, what's the plan for your honeymoon? Theo and I already booked our flight for this afternoon—we're heading overseas. What about you?" she asked with a bright, mocking lilt. "Did Brayden say anything about where you two are going for your honeymoon?"

Her tone dripped with false sympathy, her real aim to watch Gracie's calm façade splinter. With Brayden's heart clearly tied to Lia, a honeymoon between him and Gracie seemed laughable.

Gracie, however, merely shifted her gaze toward Theo, her expression cold and unreadable. "We're busy. There won't be a honeymoon."

Ellie gave a low, mocking chuckle, leaning in close enough for her perfume to sting the air. "It's one thing to lie to everyone else, but convincing yourself? That's just pathetic."

Her smirk deepened as she added, "Brayden's probably off with another woman right now, while you're left here all alone. How tragic."

Gracie lifted her gaze, her expression calm and composed. "That doesn't bother me."

Ellie arched her brow with a smug tilt of her chin. "Let's hope you're not just saying that."

Before the tension could stretch further, Charlie, who had been standing quietly nearby, finally spoke to Gracie. "Mr. Stanley asked me to inform you that he's been overwhelmed with work lately and won't have time for a honeymoon. So, he set up an account with eight million dollars in your name. You're free to spend it however you please."

A flicker of light sparked in Gracie's eyes. The knot of worry she'd carried about funding her machine suddenly loosened.

Ellie's smugness faltered, her smile turning brittle as irritation flickered in her eyes. Theo had handed her nothing more than a two-million-dollar card—barely enough to flaunt.

All she'd managed was to humiliate herself.

With a bitter laugh, she snapped, "Well, I hope you enjoy your happiness—alone." Then she spun on her heel and stalked off, anger tightening every step.

A flicker of excitement trembled in Gracie's voice as she faced Charlie. "Is that true?"

Charlie let out a quiet laugh, his tone teasing. "Guess your husband's devotion isn't your biggest concern."

"Sometimes, money outweighs emotions," Gracie said lightly, then hesitated as a thought hit her. Her eyes narrowed. "Wait—you were just trying to help me save face, weren't you? There's no card at all, is there?"