His Runaway Bride's Revenge

The wedding gown felt heavier with each step Claire Donovan took. Layers of delicate tulle and intricate lace, once a symbol of purity and love, now clung to her like shackles. Every pearl and embroidery thread seemed to weave a cage around her, tightening with each breath. The grand ballroom of the Donovan estate gleamed in opulence-golden chandeliers dripped with crystals, their warm glow casting an ethereal light over the gathered elite. Everything about the night was perfect. Too perfect.

Yet, beneath the facade of laughter and raised champagne flutes, Claire felt the first prickle of unease. It slithered along her spine, an unnamed dread curling in the pit of her stomach.

Something was wrong.

Her fingers trembled slightly around the bouquet of white roses as she stood poised at the centre of attention. Her father, Richard Donovan, a man known for his iron-clad control and ruthless business acumen, lifted his crystal glass. The room fell into a reverent hush as his voice rang clear.

"To my beautiful daughter and her future husband, Liam Carter," he declared, his deep voice laced with pride. "May their love be eternal."

A chorus of applause followed glasses clinking in celebration. Liam, tall and composed, stood at her side, his palm resting lightly against the small of her back. To the outside world, they were the picture of the perfect couple-two dynasties uniting in wealth, power, and prestige.

But when Claire glanced up at Liam, her breath caught. His blue-grey eyes, usually filled with warmth, were distant. Detached. A small, almost imperceptible shiver travelled through her. He was there, standing right beside her, but something about his posture, the careful mask of indifference on his face, sent alarm bells ringing.

Then, the world shattered.

A sharp voice sliced through the chatter.

"Excuse me, everyone."

The room stiffened. Conversations halted. The soft melody of the string quartet faltered into silence. Claire turned toward the entrance just as two uniformed officers strode into the ballroom. Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

"Miss Claire Donovan," one of the officers announced with grave authority. "You are under arrest for grand larceny."

Claire's heart plummeted.

A stunned hush blanketed the ballroom. The weight of a hundred stares pressed against her, suffocating. The scent of roses turned sickly sweet, cloying in her throat.

Ava Donovan, her stepsister, gasped theatrically, stepping forward in her shimmering emerald gown. She clutched her pearl necklace, eyes wide in a perfect display of heartbreak. "Claire... tell me this isn't true."

Murmurs swirled through the room like poison. Claire turned to Liam, her only lifeline in the chaos. But instead of stepping forward to defend her, he remained still, his jaw taut.

One of the officers pulled out a small, black velvet case. With a flick of his fingers, he flipped it open to reveal a stunning diamond necklace-the heirloom of Liam's late mother.

"We received an anonymous tip that this was found inside Miss Donovan's belongings," the officer stated, his voice devoid of sympathy.

Claire's breath hitched. "That's impossible! I-I've never even seen that necklace before!"

Ava bit her lip, her voice trembling just enough to be believable. "Claire, how could you? That necklace... it's worth millions."

Panic clawed at Claire's throat as she turned desperately to Liam. "You don't believe this, do you?"

Silence.

A suffocating, deafening silence.

His face was unreadable, his body rigid.

Then, Liam exhaled a slow, measured breath. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

The words sliced through her like a blade.

A collective murmur of condemnation rose among the guests.

"A thief..."

"She had everything. Why would she need to steal?"

"What a disgrace to the Donovan family."

The ground beneath Claire's feet became unstable, a dizzying blur of betrayal and disbelief. The officer reached for her wrist, pulling it behind her back. Cold metal snapped around her skin. The weight of the handcuffs was crushing, suffocating.

"Liam!" Her voice cracked, desperation lacing every syllable. "Please, you know me! You know I wouldn't-"

He stepped back.

As if she were a stranger. As if she were a criminal.

The guests watched, their eyes filled with judgment, disgust, and curiosity. Not one of them moved to help her.

Ava let out a trembling sob, pressing herself into Liam's side. "I just... I just don't understand how she could do this to us."

That was when Claire saw it-the slight twitch of Ava's lips, the flicker of triumph in her eyes.

Realization slammed into her like a freight train.

Ava had planned this.

The betrayal was absolute.

As the officers dragged her toward the exit, her world crumbling around her, Claire's gaze burned into Liam one last time.

But he turned away.

His silence cut deeper than any knife ever could.

Three Years Later

The prison gates groaned as they slid open, the sound rattling through Claire's bones.

She stepped out, her feet meeting the cracked pavement, the first taste of freedom a cruel reminder of all she had lost. The air smelled different out here-of gasoline, cigarettes, and distant rain. The sun, too bright after years of fluorescent lights, made her squint.

No one was there to pick her up.

No father. No stepsister. No Liam.

For three years, she had been trapped in a world of concrete and steel, surrounded by whispers of guilt for a crime she hadn't committed. Three years of learning that survival meant becoming something harder, sharper, and unbreakable.

Her delicate hands were now calloused. Her soft heart? Hardened into steel.

She had lost everything.

But she had also gained something.

A purpose.

Revenge wasn't just a desire.

It was a promise.

The Donovan family had taken everything from her.

Now, she would take everything from them.

A Deal with the Devil

The office smelled of leather, power, and danger. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the wall, revealing a sprawling city bathed in the golden hues of dusk.

Claire sat stiffly in the chair, her spine straight, her gaze unwavering. Across from her sat a man whispered about in hushed tones.

Adrian Blackwood.

A name feared by many. A name that held weight in every room it was uttered in.

He leaned forward, his dark eyes sharp with intrigue. "Marry me."

Claire's fingers curled against the armrests. "Excuse me?"

Adrian smirked, slow and deliberate. "Marry me, and I'll give you what you want-revenge against Liam Carter and Ava Donovan."

A cold laugh escaped her lips. "And what do you get in return?"

His gaze darkened. "Let's just say our enemies align."

She studied him, the raw power he exuded, the effortless command in his every move. This was a man who didn't offer things without a reason.

A contract marriage. A dangerous game.

Reckless. Suicidal.

And yet, she found herself saying the words that would change her life forever.

"When do we start?"