My sister threw red wine all over my dress at her million-dollar wedding and called me a penniless loser in front of Boston's elite

Richard Campbell stepped forward, intending to order the intruder to leave his daughter’s wedding. But as he raised his hand, his eyes locked onto Nathan’s face, and his breath hitched violently in his chest.

Richard had spent three years desperately trying to secure an investment meeting with Vance Capital to save the failing Campbell Logistics Corporation. He recognized the man standing on the floor immediately.

The microphone lay forgotten near Richard’s feet as his face drained of all color, turning a sickly, pale white. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably against his black-tie jacket.

"No... it can't be him," Richard gasped in utter terror, his knees buckling slightly. "Nathan Vance...?"

Allison’s furious, arrogant grin froze. Her eyes darted from her father’s terrified expression down to the hands joined together between Meredith and the most powerful man in Boston.

Sloane’s groom, Edward Vance—Nathan’s second cousin—stood at the altar, his face turning bright red before dropping into a terrified bow.

"M-Meredith..." Allison stuttered, her voice cracking into a high-pitched panic as she stumbled back over her wedding dress train. "Who... who is he?!"

Nathan didn't answer her. His gaze dropped down to the dark red wine stain soaking Meredith’s silver silk dress. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his skin as a terrifying darkness washed over his features.

He pulled Meredith closer against his side, wrapping his long arm protectively around her waist.