Chapter One
“Greg Manny, do you take Ella Clove to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, honour her, and stand beside her for the rest of your life?”
The minister’s question settled over the church, followed by a silence so complete that Ella could hear the faint rustle of her wedding gown against the floor.
She stood beside Greg beneath an enormous arch of white roses, her bouquet held gently between both hands. Hundreds of people filled the church, dressed in their finest clothes for the occasion. Members of the Clove family sat near the front, while influential businessmen, family friends, and men who worked under her father occupied the rows behind them.
Every person in the church was waiting for Greg’s answer.
Ella looked at him, and a nervous smile touched her lips.
This was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life.
For fifteen years, she had known that this day would eventually come. Greg had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. He had entered their home as a grieving boy after his father, Henry Manny, died protecting her father, George Clove, from an attack. Ella had been too young to understand what that sacrifice meant at the time, but she had grown up hearing the story.
Her father had never forgotten Henry’s loyalty.
He had taken Greg in, raised him, educated him, and eventually made him his second in command. To George, Greg was more than a trusted employee. He was family.
And to everyone around them, Greg had always been Ella’s future husband.
Their marriage had been decided years ago.
George had often spoken about the future as though it were already written. One day, he would hand the Clove organisation over to Ella and Greg. They would run the business together, protect the family, and carry on everything he had built.
Ella had believed him.
She had believed in Greg too.
She looked at him again, expecting to find the familiar warmth in his eyes, but his expression gave her nothing.
His face was strangely still.
The minister waited patiently.
“Greg?” he asked.
Greg did not answer.
Ella's fingers tightened slightly around her bouquet. A small crease formed between her brows as she studied him.
“Are you all right?” she whispered.
Greg finally turned his eyes toward her.
For a brief moment, their gazes met.
Ella searched his face for an explanation, but whatever she was looking for was not there. His eyes were cold, distant, almost unfamiliar.
Her stomach tightened.
Perhaps he was nervous.
That had to be it.
Anyone could become overwhelmed standing before a church filled with hundreds of people. Greg had always been composed, but this was different. Today was not another business meeting or family gathering. Today was the day they were supposed to become husband and wife.
Ella gave him a reassuring smile.
He did not return it.
The uneasiness inside her grew.
She glanced toward the front row.
Her father was watching them.
George Clove looked tired. His illness had weakened him considerably over the past year, and even though he had tried to hide it from everyone, Ella had noticed how difficult simple things had become for him. He had lost weight, his movements had slowed, and there were days when he could barely make it through a business meeting without needing to rest.
Yet he had insisted on being present today.
He wanted to see his daughter married.
When he noticed Ella looking at him, his expression softened into a proud smile.
She smiled back.
For her father, she would do anything.
Her gaze returned to Greg.
The minister repeated the question.
“Greg Manny, do you take Ella Clove to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
The words seemed to echo through the church.
Ella's heart began beating faster.
This was the part she had dreamed about.
She had imagined Greg taking her hand and looking into her eyes before giving his answer. She had imagined the applause that would follow. She had imagined her father smiling with relief as the final piece of the future he had planned for her fell into place.
She had imagined growing old with Greg.
She had imagined children.
She had imagined waking beside him every morning and building a life together.
Now all she needed was his answer.
Greg looked at the minister.
Then he looked at Ella.
Something about his expression made the warmth drain from her face.
There was no love in his eyes.
No tenderness.
No hesitation.
Ella's smile disappeared.
“Greg?” she whispered.
His jaw tightened.
The silence became unbearable.
Someone in the congregation shifted in their seat. Another person cleared their throat, but no one spoke. Everyone was waiting.
Ella could feel hundreds of eyes moving between her and Greg.
She did not understand what was happening.
She had known this man for half her life. She knew his habits, his temper, his ambitions, and the way he carried himself. She had trusted him with secrets she had never told anyone else.
There was no reason for him to be standing there like a stranger.
The minister looked at Greg one final time.
“Do you take Ella Clove to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Greg slowly drew a breath.
Ella waited.
Then he answered.
“No.”
For a moment, Ella did not understand the word.
Her mind seemed to reject it before she could even process what she had heard.
No.
She stared at Greg, her fingers frozen around the bouquet as the colour slowly drained from her face.
Surely she had heard him wrong.
Surely there had been some mistake.
But Greg was still standing beside her.
And he was looking directly at her.
Ella could only stare at him in disbelief.
