The wedding venue was a grand estate nestled along the coast, with marble columns, crystal chandeliers, and a red carpet that stretched out like a royal invitation.
Emily Bennett stood at the center of it all, radiant in white lace, surrounded by reporters, socialites, and elite families. She was the center of attention—
Until the black car arrived.
The crowd turned. Flashes exploded. Whispers turned into gasps.
Out stepped Isabella.
Dressed in that jaw-dropping black gown, she was the only splash of midnight in a sea of ivory and gold. Her heels clicked against the marble. Her posture was regal. Her chin lifted like she owned the world.
"She came…"
"Is that Isabella Stone?"
"Did Adrian invite her?"
Adrian, standing at the altar, froze when he saw her.
It was like time cracked.
For a moment, his bride disappeared. His guests vanished. The music dulled. All he saw was the woman who once wore his last name—and now looked more powerful without it.
Emily's grip on her bouquet tightened.
Luna walked beside Isabella, smirking like the devil's assistant. "Darling, you just broke the internet."
Isabella didn't flinch.
She wasn't here to cause a scene.
She was the scene.