He made 180 guests wait for his first love, so I dropped my bouquet and married his boss instead

The Charleston Country Club ballroom had been booked for six hours, and Ethan Hayes made sure every single minute of it was unforgettable.

When we made our grand entrance into the sprawling, crystal-chandeliered hall, the band struck up a roaring jazz tune, and the 180 guests—who had spent the afternoon digesting the most scandalous wedding plot twist in South Carolina history—rose to their feet and gave us a standing ovation.

"You realize," I murmured into Ethan’s shoulder as we took our first spin around the dance floor, "that by tomorrow morning, this will be the number one trending topic on every corporate gossip blog in the country."

Ethan chuckled, his hand resting firmly on the small of my back, guiding me effortlessly across the polished mahogany floor. "Let them talk. Calder Systems stock went up two points just on the rumor that I fired Jack Conway. Imagine what the investors will say when they find out I acquired his brilliant ex-fiancée instead."

"You treat me like a corporate asset," I teased, though a flush of heat warmed my cheeks.

"You’re the best acquisition I’ve ever made," he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed my ear. "And unlike Jack, I intend to protect my investments with everything I have."

The first half-hour was a blur of flashing cameras, champagne flutes, and bewildered well-wishers. My mother cornered us near the ice sculpture, demanding to know if we were going to honeymoon in Bora Bora or the Amalfi Coast, while my father kept staring at Ethan as if trying to calculate his net worth in his head.

Rachel, meanwhile, had appointed herself my personal hype-man, marching around the room with a glass of Veuve Clicquot in each hand, loudly recounting the exact moment Jack got dragged out by security.

"Honestly, it’s cinematic," Rachel told a group of wide-eyed cousins at table three. "One minute Jack is screaming about his ex, the next minute Ethan Hayes swoops in like Batman and puts a ring on it. It’s poetic justice."

As the evening wore on, the tension in the room completely dissolved into a high-energy celebration. The open bar was working overtime, the prime rib was phenomenal, and the DJ was playing floor-filling hits that got even my conservative uncle bobbing his head.

Ethan and I finally escaped to a quiet corner booth near the French doors that opened out onto the moonlit terrace. The sea breeze drifted in, cool and salty, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine.

"Tired?" Ethan asked, pouring me a fresh glass of sparkling water.

"Exhausted," I sighed, kicking off my Jimmy Choos under the table and letting out a blissful groan. "Today has been the most chaotic, terrifying, and exhilarating twelve hours of my entire life."

Ethan sat beside me, his shoulder pressed against mine, his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone. He looked relaxed, completely in his element, yet his grey eyes never left my face.

"Do you regret it?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing the back of my hand. "Any part of it? I know this wasn't the quiet, traditional wedding you spent a year planning."

I looked out through the glass doors, watching the moonlight dance across the Atlantic in the distance. I thought about the hours spent picking out napkins, the endless arguments over seating charts with Jack, the gut-wrenching realization that I was always going to be second best to Chloe.

Then I looked down at the platinum signet ring on my finger, and beside it, the brilliant diamond band Ethan had slipped on during the ceremony (which he had mysteriously acquired from the jeweler on retainer within twenty minutes).

"Jack spent a year planning a wedding," I said quietly, turning to meet Ethan's gaze. "You spent twenty minutes building a future. No, Ethan. I don't regret a single second."

A slow, devastatingly tender smile crossed his face. He reached up, his fingers gently brushing a stray curl away from my cheek. "Good. Because I’ve been watching you from across boardrooms and charity galas for six months, Lindsay. I was waiting for the exact right moment to make my move. Jack just happened to hand me the opening on a silver platter."

"You planned this?" I gasped, half-joking.

"Not the ex-girlfriend meltdown," he laughed softly. "I’m good, but I’m not *that* good. But I knew Jack was taking you for granted. A man who makes a woman like you wait while he coddles an ex doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone wear your ring."

Before I could respond, the heavy oak doors of the ballroom swung open with a loud, dramatic bang.

The music stuttered. The chatter died instantly.

All heads turned toward the entrance.