Chapter 1

Seraphina's POV

The gasp that ripped through the bridal suite was loud enough to shatter glass.

"Archer Vane, are you out of your mind? Seraphina is your fiancée! Today is your wedding day! How can you stand there and tell her to marry someone else?"

One of my bridesmaids was trembling, her face pale with shock.

But Archer, the man I had loved for five years, just stood there, leaning against the doorframe with a look of bored arrogance. He swirled the champagne in his glass, looking at me not with love, but with disdain.

"Why is everyone whining?" Archer sneered, his eyes cold. "Neither the Vane family nor the Cross family has any objections. Seraphina knows exactly why this is happening."

He took a step closer to me, his expensive cologne suffocating me.

"Last week, you sent Lyla to the hospital. She's still crying her eyes out because of you," Archer spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you can hurt my secretary and get away with it? Consider this your punishment, Seraphina."

He pointed a finger at the corner of the room.

"Be obedient. Marry that madman over there. If you refuse, don't you ever think about stepping foot in the Vane manor again."

I followed his gaze.

Sitting on a velvet stool in the corner was Damon Vane. Archer's older half-brother. The family disgrace. The "Madman."

Damon was staring blankly at his own hands, his head tilted at an odd angle, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him. He was rumored to be violent, unstable, and utterly insane.

And Archer... Archer wanted to swap places with him. On our wedding day.

I let out a breathless, broken laugh. The absurdity of it clawed at my throat.

"Punishment?" I whispered.

Last week, Lyla Frost—his 'innocent' secretary—had barged into my office. She 'accidentally' spilled scalding coffee all over a merger contract I had spent months negotiating. When I scolded her for her incompetence, she ran out crying, tripped over her own feet, and scraped her arm on the wall.

A scraped arm. That was it.

But to Archer, it was a tragedy. He had rushed her to the hospital like she was dying, forcing me to apologize to her for hours.

I had endured it. I endured five years of his coldness, six months of stressful wedding planning, and his constant defense of that woman.

But this?

Publicly humiliating me in front of the entire elite circle? Treating me like a piece of property he could just toss to his mentally ill brother?

Archer watched me, his expression brimming with smug confidence. "Well? The guests are waiting. Lyla needs me at the hospital, so hurry up. Don't make me lose my patience, Seraphina."

He thought I was a dog. A dog that would beg for scraps, that would swallow any insult just to keep the title of 'Mrs. Vane.'

He trampled on my dignity just to make Lyla smile.

Something inside me snapped. It wasn't a loud break, but a quiet, final severance. The love I had held for five years turned into ash in an instant.

I straightened my spine. I wiped the single tear that had escaped my eye.

"You're right, Archer," I said, my voice eerily calm.

I turned away from him and walked toward the corner of the room. Toward the Madman.

Damon Vane was tall, with broad shoulders that strained against his ill-fitting suit. He didn't look up as I approached.

I reached out and took his hand. It was large, calloused, and shockingly warm.

"Damon Vane," I said, my voice ringing clear in the silent room. "Will you marry me?"

Archer's smug smile vanished. His face twisted into an ugly frown. "Seraphina! What kind of stunt is this? I told you to hold a ceremony with him to save face, I didn't say you actually had to—"

"Don't fall for it, Archer," Lyla's voice drifted in from the hallway. She appeared, leaning weakly against the doorframe, a bandage wrapped dramatically around her elbow. She smirked at me. "Seraphina just wants the Vane family name. She's bluffing. If you give in now, she'll walk all over you for the rest of your life."

Archer's hesitation vanished. He let out a cruel laugh.

"You're right, Lyla. She's desperate." He looked at me with disgust. "Fine! After the ceremony, change your dress. A wedding gown touched by a madman is filthy. I don't want you bringing his stench back to me."

He wrapped an arm around Lyla's waist, squeezing her hip intimately.

"Seraphina is going to the church with the madman. I'm not interested in this circus. Lyla and I are going to... the office. For a meeting."

He strode out, laughing, leaving me standing in the ruins of my dreams.

The bridesmaids left, awkward and whispering. The door clicked shut.

I sat down on the edge of the wedding bed, the heavy silk of my dress feeling like a cage. A coldness bloomed in my chest, spreading to my fingertips.

I was alone. Married to a stranger. Abandoned by the man I wasted my youth on.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over me.

A warm, solid presence enveloped my trembling frame.

Damon had moved. He leaned down, his large frame hovering over me, and gently embraced me.

Startled, I looked up.

I expected to see the vacant, chaotic eyes of a madman.

Instead, I was met with a gaze that was dark, deep, and terrifyingly lucid.

He reached out, his rough fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a jolt of electricity down my spine.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice a low, rumbling baritone that showed no sign of insanity. "I do. I will marry you."