0.She Told the Maid She’d Never Sleep in His Bed Again, and by Morning the Wedding Was Gone Before the Sheets Were Dry..

The rehearsal dinner was a masterclass in high-society deception. Three hundred guests filled the massive white tent on the south lawn, drinking expensive champagne and laughing at speeches that meant absolutely nothing.

Caroline sat at the head table, glowing in a backless silk gown, playing the perfect, radiant bride. She held Nathaniel’s arm, laughing musically at his colleagues' jokes, entirely confident that her threats had secured her victory.

She believed Erin was gone.

She was wrong.

Erin stood in the shadows near the catering entrance, wearing her stark black-and-white server uniform, holding a tray of empty glasses. She hadn't packed her bags. She hadn't run.

After Caroline left the pavilion, Erin had walked straight into Nathaniel’s study to resign. But before she could speak, Nathaniel had simply looked at her, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying, protective fire, and said, “I heard everything. You are not leaving. Trust me.”

So, Erin stayed, watching the woman who had threatened her mother’s life play the victim.

During the main course, the string quartet began playing a slow, elegant waltz. The guests politely applauded as Nathaniel stood up, offering his hand to his beautiful bride for the ceremonial first dance of the evening.

Caroline beamed, standing up gracefully and stepping onto the small wooden dance floor in the center of the tent. She rested her hands on his shoulders, waiting for him to pull her close.

Nathaniel didn't move toward her.

He stood there for a fraction of a second, the entire tent watching. Then, he smoothly, deliberately turned his back on Caroline Sloan.

He walked across the dance floor, past the head table, and straight toward the catering entrance in the shadows.

The murmuring of the crowd died instantly. The string quartet faltered, the cellist losing a note as he watched the billionaire groom abandon his bride.

Caroline’s smile froze, turning into a mask of sheer, unadulterated panic.

Nathaniel stopped directly in front of Erin. He didn't care that she was holding a tray of dirty glasses. He didn't care that she was wearing a cheap uniform. He looked at her with an intensity that sucked all the oxygen out of the massive tent.

“Put the tray down, Erin,” Nathaniel ordered softly.

Erin was trembling so violently she almost dropped it. She set the tray on a nearby prep table, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.