“Do you, Tessa Quinn, take Roman Blackwood to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Tessa stood frozen at the altar, every heartbeat louder than the murmurs rippling through the courtyard. The grass carpet felt soft beneath her feet, the scent of lilies hung heavy in the air — everything immaculate, elegant, expensive.
Her gaze flicked briefly to Roman, who looked maddeningly composed. His dark suit fit like a weapon, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on her as if daring her to no.
Her fingers trembled.
Before she could force out a word, she took a slow step back. “I… I need a minute.”
A collective gasp rose from the guests. Cameras clicked. Roman didn’t move at first, his expression unreadable. Then, with a curt nod to the priest, he followed her.
They stepped aside, toward the grand colum
