THE BILLIONAIRE'S DYING HEART: HIS JILTED BRIDE

When Edra stepped out in her wedding gown that morning, her face glowing with joy and her stomach fluttering with excitement, she had no idea this day would mark the beginning of her destruction. She'd missed his call the evening before. She was getting her nails done, laughing with her best friend Chloe about honeymoon plans. The salon was loud. Women chattering. She hadn't heard her phone ring. When she checked it an hour later, she had four missed calls. Michael. Then came the text: ‘Hey babe, I need to tell you something.’ Her fingers flew to call him back, but James's call came in just then. He was at her apartment to surprise her. She'd been thrown into excitement and had forgotten to call Michael back. After James left at night, she called Michael. There was no answer. Straight to voicemail. Three times. Nothing. She should've been worried, but she pushed it away. Maybe he was nervous. Maybe he was with his groomsmen. After all, she was marrying him today. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing. Now she stood at the head of the aisle, her fingers gripping the bouquet so tight the stems were crushing in her hands. Her wedge heels sank into the soft grass with every small movement. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, trying to ease the ache building in her calves. Her eyes stayed locked on the gate entrance. Unblinking. Desperate for someone who should've arrived two hours ago. Sunlight came through the trees and fell on the roses lining the aisle. Grand Stallion Garden was quiet. The string quartet had stopped playing. The violinist kept glancing at her with pity. She hated that look. The air felt heavy, suffocating. It was like all of Bel Air in Los Angeles was holding its breath with her. Waiting. Waiting for Michael Hayes. The love of her life. Her husband-to-be. Two hours late. But she knew he'd come. His phone still wasn't connecting. But she refused to sit down. She wanted him to see her standing there when he walked in. Perfect. Radiant. In her twenty-four thousand-dollar gown—the gown he'd paid for—and her LV wedge heels. She wasn't even mad at him. Just eager to see him. The man she'd given herself to completely for the last couple of months. They'd been together two years, first as friends, then as lovers. They got engaged four months ago. She'd been afraid initially. But he'd been gentle and patient with her. She had no regrets. After all, she was marrying him today. Her mother sat in the front row, sobbing quietly into a tissue. Her father had stormed out earlier, his face red with anger, grumbling something about terrible choices and shame. But Edra stood there. Waiting. Believing. "He's gone, Edra." The words came from behind her. Soft. Careful. "Gone? Who's gone?" Edra didn't turn around. She didn't hear the panic in Chloe's voice. Her eyes stayed glued to that gate. "Michael is gone." Now she turned. Slowly. Her heart still hadn't caught up to the words. "What do you mean Michael is gone? Gone where?" She threw her hands up, the bouquet shaking. Chloe's face was pale. Her eyes were red. "He left the hotel this morning. Never showed up here. Didn't go to his father's place. They've called everyone. His friends, his cousins, everyone, Edra." Edra stared at her. The world felt like it was tilting. "Maybe he's stuck in traffic. Maybe he lost his phone. Or his car got hit." The words tumbled out. Desperate. Weak. She barely believed them herself. "No." Chloe shook her head. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "He left a note. Only for his mother. Said he couldn't do it. He left Los Angeles, Edra." The bouquet slipped from Edra's fingers. "There was no message for you," Chloe whispered. "No apology. No explanation. He just abandoned you here." Abandoned. The word hit her like a fist to the stomach. "What?" Her voice came out broken and small. The rows of white chairs blurred into nothing. Her heart started pounding. Hard. Fast. Like it was trying to break through her chest. The full weight of it crashed down on her all at once. He'd abandoned her. Dumped her. Trashed her like she'd never mattered at all. I need to tell you something. That text. That call she'd missed. He'd tried to warn her. And she'd been too blind, too in love, too stupid to see it coming. "I'm so sorry, Edra." She heard Chloe, but the pain was louder. It felt like someone had ripped her chest open and torn her heart out with bare hands. The ache spread everywhere. Through her bones. Her blood. Her lungs. She pressed a hand to her chest. Tears burned her eyes. Her legs shook. She'd been standing for hours. But she couldn't move. "Oh my God." The words barely came out. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs refused to work. "Edra, please—" Chloe stepped closer, reaching for her. Edra stumbled back. Her throat closed up. The tears broke free. Hot. Fast. They streamed down her face, ruining the makeup she'd spent two hours perfecting. She could taste salt. Could feel mascara burning her eyes. "He left me." Her voice cracked. Shattered. "Michael left me." The scandal exploded in her mind. The headlines. The gossip. The whispers behind hands. Her father—a Court Commissioner—publicly humiliated. Because of her. Because she'd been foolish enough to love a man who didn't love her back. The nausea hit hard and fast. She swallowed it down. Her body felt hollow. Empty. Like all her bones had dissolved into nothing. The world started spinning. The faces around her blurred. The roses. The white chairs. The sky. A gasp went up. "Edra!" Chloe lunged forward, but she was too late. Edra's knees gave out. Her body crumpled to the ground. Her twenty-four thousand dollar gown pooled around her like a white puddle of broken dreams. Everything went dark. But not before one final thought burned through her mind like fire. Michael Hayes would pay for this. She would make sure of it. Even if it destroyed her.