No Bride for the Billionaire

About this story

Before my wedding, my billionaire fiancé chose my sister’s bridal portrait for the hotel entrance.​ Celeste had lived with a heart condition since childhood, so my family believed I should give her anything she wanted—my invitations, my menu, even the right to walk down my aisle first.​ Then William took her hand and stepped onto my wedding aisle with her dressed in white.​ I slapped her.​ Then I gave her the groom too.​ “If you love trash that much, you can keep him.”​ On our wedding day, William left with her to see a cardiac specialist and ordered me to be dressed and waiting when he returned.​ But when he reached the hotel, the bride was gone. The gown was gone. Every design that belonged to me had been removed.​ All that remained was my sister’s giant portrait, her charity donors, and a billionaire wedding with no bride.​ William thought I was throwing a tantrum.​ Then he discovered I was not coming back—and I was about to reclaim the name and talent he had buried for seven years.​ This time, winning me back would cost him the entire Blackwood empire.