Desmond froze, like someone had just poured ice water down his spine.
“What?” His voice cracked. “No. No, that’s not right. I’m supposed to be the groom!“}
He turned to me, his voice softening into a pleading who like he thought charm could still work.
“Cassie… Are you still mad? Stop making it hard for Gwen, and I swear–I’ll marry you.”
I laughed, short and cold. “I told you already. I’m not marrying you.”
“No!” he shouted, desperate now. “That’s not possible! You’ve chased me for years. You’re always saying you wanted to be my wife!“} Then his glare shifted to Terrence, pure venom in his voice. “You’d really marry a cripple just to get back at me?”
“Desmond,” I snapped, “watch your mouth. Terrence is the future head of the D’Angelo family. You’re not even close to being someone who can insult him.”
His expression was twisted, ugly, and bitter. “How could you…how could you marry him?”
I didn’t even respond.
Instead, I turned to the emcee and took the mic.
“Thank you all for coming today to witness my marriage to Terrence D’Angelo,” I said, voice clear and steady across the entire hall.
“And while I have your attention, I need to address something.“0
I looked directly at Desmond, meeting his stunned, pale face.
This man–Desmond Caldwell–has been spreading delusional rumors about marrying me. Worse, he’s been deliberately sabotaging my businesses.”
I turned my gaze to the room. “If anyone here agrees with what he’s done, then feel free to sever ties with the Mercier family starting today.”
The silence cracked into gasps and whispers.
Someone near the back scoffed loudly. “Ms. Mercier must be joking. Him? The Caldwell heir? Don’t make me laugh.”
Another voice added, “Everyone knows his mother was just a mistress. The real wife kicked her out, and she went off the deep end!” One guest near the back scoffed, “He only ever got called ‘Golden Boy‘ because of his looks. Thought he was important just ‘cause he had a pretty face.”
I watched the room transform. There were expressions of shock, hushed murmurs, and a growing wave of disgust.
It was gratifying, so I kept going.
“And just so we’re all clear,” I said, projecting my voice. “Desmond wasn’t even on the list the day the names were drawn. And one more thing…”
I tapped play on my phone!!
His voice poured through the banquet hall speakers, sharp and unrepentant. The call where he casually confirmed Gwen’s pregnancy. played loud enough for everyone to hear.
The reaction hit instantly.
“So it really is a mistress’s baby?”
“Knocked her up before even locking down the wedding? What a disgrace.“>>
“Man’s just trash. That’s all he is.”
Desmond attempted to charge forward, but security acted quickly. They held him back, restraining him as he shouted and thrashed like a man possessed.
He was dragged out screaming.
Gwen didn’t even try to follow. She crumpled under the weight of the crowd’s stares, buried her face in her hands, and ran.
I turned back toward the guests, smoothed out the front of my dress, and walked calmly to Terrence’s side.
“Now,” I smiled, “we can return to the wedding.”
After the ceremony, we returned to the ‘^—
10:19 AM O
…E
After the ceremony, we returned to the D’Angelo estate, a sweeping monument to generational wealth–timeless, refined, and quietly powerful.
Terrence sat straight in his wheelchair, his black suit perfectly tailored, every line neat and deliberate. He looked calm and composed, like
a man who knew exactly who he was and who had finally stepped into his own name.
Later that evening, his grandmother Katherine called me into one of the private sitting rooms.
Her hands were so thin, the skin nearly translucent as they trembled in mine.”
“Cassie,” she began softly, her voice fragile with age, “Terrence has never had it easy. Even in the womb, someone was trying to hurt him. There were people after the D’Angelo family’s medical secrets. They poisoned his mother while she was pregnant.“2
Her voice caught.
“He was born with that poison in him. A condition we’ve spent years trying to treat. And if you ever feel–“>
“Grandma,” I said, reaching over and folding my hand over hers. “Terrence is more than fine.”
…E
Later that night, I returned to our bedroom.
Terrence was at his desk, back straight, every line of him stiff with tension like he was bracing himself for bad news.
I let out a quiet laugh. “You look like you’re about to face a firing squad.”
His gaze dropped, voice low and rough. “I’m not the one for you, Cassie. This marriage…I don’t deserve it.”
I stepped closer, gently sliding my fingers beneath his collar. “Terrence, I married you because I wanted to. I want you.”
He didn’t move, but the tension in his shoulders eased just a little.
I reached for his tie and loosened the knot. His breathing hitched when my fingertips brushed the warm skin of his neck.
“Let me see you,” I said softly. “Please.“}
His Adam’s apple bobbed once, but he didn’t say no.2
I slipped the jacket from his shoulders, the fabric falling away easily. My hands grazed his chest, the heat of his skin rising under my touch.
Then suddenly, Terrence grabbed my wrist. “Cassie, I…”
“Shh,” I whispered, leaning in. My lips met his before he could say another word.
He trembled beneath the kiss.
That night, I gave him everything–my warmth, my trust, and the truth I hadn’t dared to voice out loud until now.
…a
The next morning, golden sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains.
I shifted under the covers, turned my head, and froze.2
His silver mask sat on the pillow, abandoned.
My breath caught in my throat.%
I looked over, really looked at him for the first time.
The scars? The deformity? The monstrous disfigurement? Gone.%
What i saw took my breath away.%
Browse a
098
10:19 AM
Brows sharp and angled like they’d been sketched by an artist’s hand. A nose straight and strong. A jawline sculpted to perfection. And those eyes–amber and luminous, wide and deep like they could hold entire galaxies.
And just beneath his left eye, a single beauty mark. Small. Tear–shaped. Almost heartbreakingly delicate.
Next to him, Desmond might as well have been ordinary.
I stared, speechless, heart thudding.
Terrence stirred, blinked awake, and caught me staring.
He reached for the mask, panic in his eyes. “Did I scare you?“}}
I caught his hand before he could grab it.
“No,” I breathed, standing up and guiding him toward the mirror. “Look. You’re beautiful.”}]
He went still in front of his reflection, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.}
Then, without warning, he stood.”
Not wobbly. Not weak.
He just stood. Steady. Whole.
We locked eyes, and for a moment, the world held still.
Then he laughed–bright and breathless–and swept me up into his arms, spinning me around… “Cassie! I’m healed!”
…D
Still barefoot, Terrence dragged me down the hall, beaming like a kid at Christmas.§
“Dad! Grandma!”
Katherine turned so fast that she dropped the spoon in her hand. Her mouth parted, shocked.
And then her eyes filled with tears.
She reached for his face and his legs, barely able to speak.
“The heavens have truly blessed us,” she whispered. “Cassie, you’re a gift to this family.”
Terrence’s father, Bernard, stepped forward, his fingers steady as he pressed them to his son’s wrist. He stayed silent, brow tightening in concentration as he checked the pulse.
Then Bernard leaned in and whispered something to Terrence in a low voice.”
Immediately, Terrence turned scarlet along his ears, neck, and the whole way down.
It turned out that buried deep in the old D’Angelo family medical journals was a forgotten healing method, which had not been practiced for generations.
The only way to purge the poison was through a bond with someone born with a rare empathic constitution. This required more than science; it demanded a union of emotion, of body and soul, a connection forged through marriage that was both intimate and unbreakable.
And what we’d shared that night, whether by fate or accident, had healed him
