I died on the night of my wedding to Carlos Fowler, the duke's second son. He left me to be killed by kidnappers while he saved the woman he truly cared about. Before I took my last breath, I saw Vincent Fowler, Carlos's crippled older brother, storm in like a madman to avenge me. Reborn, I stood before the priest and canceled the wedding in front of everyone. I turned and walked toward Vincent, who sat in his wheelchair in the corner, under the stunned gazes of the crowd. "Vincent, I want to marry you." Carlos thought I was just trying to get his attention. But he would soon realize he had lost everything.
I died on the night of my wedding to Carlos Fowler, the duke's second son.
He left me to be killed by kidnappers while he saved the woman he truly cared about.
Before I took my last breath, I saw Vincent Fowler, Carlos's crippled older brother, storm in like a madman to avenge me.
Reborn, I stood before the priest and canceled the wedding in front of everyone.
I turned and walked toward Vincent, who sat in his wheelchair in the corner, under the stunned gazes of the crowd. "Vincent, I want to marry you."
Carlos thought I was just trying to get his attention.
But he would soon realize he had lost everything.
...
"I refuse." My firm voice echoed through the solemn church, setting off a shockwave.
The priest's hand, holding the Bible, froze in midair.
The guests erupted into a buzz of whispers, like a swarm of bees.
Carlos, my handsome fiancé, stood there with his smile frozen on his face.
His blue eyes, which I once adored, flashed with shock, then burned with anger.
"Aria, what are you doing?" His voice was low, each word forced through gritted teeth.
I didn't look at him.
My gaze passed over him, over the shocked and amused faces, and settled on the quietest corner of the church.
There, Vincent sat alone in his wheelchair, out of place in this grand wedding.
He was Carlos's older brother, the true heir to the dukedom, crippled in an accident ten years ago, left silent and forgotten by almost everyone.
Except me.
I remembered my final moments from my past life, when the kidnapper's knife pierced my heart. It was Vincent, the man everyone mocked as a cripple, who burst through the door like a raging beast, snapping the kidnapper's neck with his bare hands.
Blood splattered on his pale face as he held my cold body, his wails tearing through the air.
Meanwhile, my "beloved" Carlos was safely elsewhere, holding his precious Isabella Johnson, celebrating her survival.
I lifted the heavy hem of my dress and walked toward Vincent.
The expensive wedding gown dragged across the floor, rustling as if mourning my past life's foolishness.
Every eye followed my steps.
Carlos hurried after me, grabbing my wrist so hard it felt like he'd crush my bones.
"Come back, Aria! Don't humiliate me in front of everyone!" he hissed through clenched teeth.
I yanked my arm free.
"Humiliate?" I turned, meeting his eyes with a coldness he'd never seen before. "Compared to letting me die at the hands of kidnappers for another woman, what's more humiliating?"
Carlos's pupils shrank.
He didn't know why I said that.
He thought I was just being irrational.
"Are you out of your mind?" His face showed a flicker of impatience. "Isabella is just a friend. Stop trying to get my attention with these ridiculous stunts."
I laughed.
In my past life, I believed he would save me.
He never came.
I ignored him and walked straight to Vincent.
He looked up, his deep gray eyes calm, as if this drama had nothing to do with him.
I knelt before him, gazing up. "Vincent, I want to marry you."
My words were clear.
The church fell deathly silent.
Even the guests' breathing seemed to stop.
Vincent looked at me, his long lashes hiding whatever lay in his eyes.
After a long pause, he spoke, his voice as flat as ever. "Fine."
Carlos stared at us in disbelief, his face turning from red to pale to ashen.
"Vincent! You wouldn't dare!" he roared.
The duke, their father, rose from his seat.
His face was grim as he struck his cane hard against the floor. "Enough! Haven't you embarrassed us enough?"
His sharp gaze swept over the three of us. "If Aria has changed her mind, let her have her way."
He turned to the priest. "Continue the ceremony."
The priest stammered, confused. "My lord, the groom is..."
"Vincent." The duke's two words left no room for argument.
Carlos froze.
He probably thought his father would take his side, scold me for my impulsiveness, and force me to go through with the wedding.
He was wrong.
In the duke's eyes, the marriage was about my family's influence. It didn't matter which son I married.
In fact, marrying the rightful heir was even better.
Other books by rabbit
More