Elena arrived at the Blackwood mansion with one thought repeating in her head.
I am married.
She stared through the car window, barely noticing the buildings disappearing behind them.
Married.
The word still felt strange.
She had spent eight years imagining her wedding day. She had imagined walking down the aisle toward Damian, imagined the way he would look at her, imagined the moment they would finally become husband and wife.
Instead, Damian had left her standing at the altar.
And now she was sitting in the back of a car beside another man.
Her husband.
Elena glanced at Adrian.
He sat quietly beside her, one arm resting against the door. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his expression impossible to read.
She had expected him to say something.
Anything.
But he hadn't.
Finally
