He Chose Her, I Bled in Wedding Gown

Linh Snowdon was a renowned beauty doctor with a calm and rational demeanor, and also the white moonlight in countless men's hearts. Yet against all logic, she found herself hopelessly drawn to the brooding, solitary Foster Granger from their very first meeting. Foster, the ruthless CEO of Granger Enterprises, had survived a horrific tragedy six years prior when his drunken future father-in-law accidentally started an inferno during their engagement party, leaving him as the sole survivor. The incident turned him against his former lover Sienna Hale, transforming him into a man so emotionally frozen that even his closest associates kept their distance. Just when everyone assumed Linh's feelings would go unrequited, the man who'd built walls around his heart did the unthinkable—he let her in. For three years, he showered her with a tenderness reserved for no one else, thawing only for her. On their wedding day, as they raised their rings to exchange vows, the unthinkable happened. A wild-eyed woman burst through the crowd, a gleaming dagger aimed straight at Foster's heart. Without hesitation, Linh spun around—taking the blade meant for him. The steel sank deep into her chest as she collapsed against him, crimson blood spreading like a grotesque stain across her pristine white gown. The attacker—now being restrained—let out a guttural scream. "Foster! Our score isn't settled! How dare you marry?" Only then did Linh recognize Sienna, the woman whose love had turned to venom six years ago. Before anyone could react, Sienna twisted free and pressed the bloody knife to her own throat. "I'm done," she whispered hoarsely. "Let this end us." Foster's eyes darkened with panic. He dropped Linh—her body hitting the floor with a sickening thud—and lunged forward, his bare hands closing around the descending blade, blood streaming from his palms. Linh lay forgotten, watching through blurred vision as Foster crushed Sienna against his chest, murmuring frantic reassurances. Watched as he gathered the unconscious woman in his arms and strode past without so much as a backward glance. A bitter laugh escaped her lips, flecked with blood. Of course. Now that she saw Sienna's face—the same delicate features, the same almond-shaped eyes that mirrored her own with cruel precision—the truth stabbed deeper than any blade. She'd always been nothing more than a replacement. As darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, the last thing she heard was panicked shouts. "The bride's bleeding won't stop! Get an ambulance—now, before it's too late!" ***** After three agonizing hours of emergency surgery, Linh finally forced her eyes open in the hospital room. Foster stood by her bed, holding out a document. "Sign this." A pardon letter—for Sienna. Linh's lips twisted into a bitter smile. The knife had come within half a millimeter of her heart. She was still fighting for her life, yet her husband's first words demanded she forgive her would-be killer. "Foster," she rasped, her voice raw, "did you... choose me because I look like her? Was every kindness... just me being her replacement?" His silence spoke louder than words, crushing her more than any confession could—like a dull blade slowly carving out her heart. Suddenly, everything became clear. The nights he'd set aside billion-dollar contracts to soothe her cramps, the vacations when he'd cleared his schedule to witness the Northern Lights with her in Norway, the midnight snacks delivered during her shifts, the unwavering dawn pickups outside the hospital. All his tenderness and affection existed only because she wore Sienna's face. "An ocean of blood and hatred separates me from Sienna. We can never be together." His voice was ice. "That's why my wife will only be you." He paused, then added with chilling finality. "But I won't let her go to prison. Linh, sign the pardon. Don't make this difficult." The last flicker of hope within her died. Her heart didn't just break—it was torn to shreds. His "only you" wasn't a vow of love, but a consolation prize. Her eyes dropped to the thick bandages on his hands—wounds he'd received while disarming Sienna. "Even when she tried to kill you," she whispered, "even when I nearly died saving you... you'd still ask this?" He lowered his gaze, refusing to meet her eyes. "I never asked you to save me." For a heartbeat, she froze. Then she laughed—a hollow, broken sound—as tears spilled over. She laughed at her three years of foolish dreams, at her moth-to-flame stupidity, at the love she thought was real but was just one grand deception. "I shouldn't have interfered." Three years ago, Linh had been asked by a friend to visit the Granger residence to treat Foster. The moment she saw him—wounded yet still poring over documents with intense focus—she was mesmerized by his striking yet lonely elegance. That one look changed everything. Everyone called her crazy. The famously rational Linh, charging headfirst into heartbreak like a moth to flame? Impossible. Yet she did the impossible—she professed her love to Foster. She braced for cruel rejection. Instead, the normally frosty Foster actually smiled. "Linh," he said in a low murmur, "this is something a man should initiate." "Linh," he continued, "will you be my girlfriend?" From that day forward, the brooding, solitary Foster poured all his affection solely into her. The world gasped in disbelief—she had actually melted the ice around his heart. Even she had believed, for a while, that she was his one and only exception. Only to realize now—the love she'd cherished had never been hers to begin with. Very well. If that's the truth, she wanted nothing more to do with Foster. "I'll sign the letter of forgiveness," Linh said, her eyes glacial with newfound distance. "But in return," she continued, voice unwavering, "you'll sign the divorce agreement with me."