Today was the last day. My memories of Alexander were already fading, like trying to see through frosted glass. Soon, they’d disappear completely.
As we drove past Elmvale West Boulevard, I caught a glimpse of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, its front drive lined with luxury cars.
Through the window, I saw Alexander helping Sophia out of a car. He was wearing a custom-tailored Valestre suit, and she wore a gown by Maison Verelle.
“Careful on the steps, Sophia.”
In our past life, he had done the same for me—held my hand at every major event, attentive to every detail.
“Emma, you’re my princess. I won’t let you get hurt.”
Now, watching him do the same for someone else felt like witnessing an absurd play.
The city’s elite gathered around them, showering the golden couple with praise.
Softly, I said, “May you grow old together, and may we never meet again.”
Claire slammed on the gas. “What scumbag and skank! They’re a match made in hell.”
As we turned the corner, our car passed Alexander’s Rolls-Royce head-on.
He looked out the window, frowning. Something in his gut twisted.
But he quickly shook his head and muttered to himself, “There’s no way Emma would be heading to the airport. She’s the heir to the McKenzie family. She wouldn’t agree to a political marriage.
“After today, I’ll go to her. We’ll start over.”
…
Inside the Waldorf Astoria Hotel’s grand ballroom, crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead.
Alexander held a glass of champagne but kept glancing toward the entrance, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Moments before the engagement ceremony began, he summoned his assistant.
“Check Emma’s schedule for today.”
The assistant looked surprised. “Mr. Smith, Ms. McKenzie already departed for Droskav this morning as the family representative. She’s attending the contract signing for the business alliance with Romanov Corporation. Her private jet took off ten minutes ago. Didn’t you know?”
