Ethan’s POV
The town car smelled of leather and defeat. I sat in the back seat staring at my phone as the cathedral shrank in the rearview mirror. Notifications flooded the screen—dozens of them in the space of minutes. Friends checking in with careful concern. Business associates suddenly “unavailable.” And the vultures: gossip bloggers, society reporters, and the relentless churn of social media.
The wedding had collapsed.
By the time we reached the family estate, the reception hall that should have been filled with clinking glasses and orchestrated toasts stood half-empty and echoing. Staff moved through the space like ghosts, clearing uneaten canapés and half-drunk glasses of champagne. The five-tier cake remained untouched under its crystal dome, a grotesque monument to what should
