Chapter 1

The organ music swelled, then abruptly died.

A hush fell over the Sterling family's private chapel.

Every head, adorned with fascinators and expensive haircuts, turned.

Jackson Sterling, my fiancé, finally stood at the entrance.

But he wasn't alone.

A woman clung to his arm, her dress too bright, her smile too wide.

Brandy Hawkins. A cocktail waitress from some downtown dive bar he'd been seen with.

My breath caught.

This was our wedding day. Hundreds of guests. Media vans parked discreetly down the long drive of the Sterling estate.

Jackson's father, Senator Sterling's older brother, started forward, his face a mask of thunder.

"Jackson! What is the meaning of this?"

Jackson raised a hand, his voice surprisingly steady, carrying through the sudden, awful silence.

"There's been a change of plans."

He looked past his fuming father, past the bewildered guests, his eyes briefly meeting mine.

No apology. No regret. Just a cool assessment.

"The wedding is off," he announced. "I'm with Brandy now. We're leaving."

Gasps rippled through the chapel.

My mother made a small, wounded sound beside me.

Brandy snuggled closer to Jackson, her expression triumphant. She openly smirked at me.

They turned, and walked back out of the chapel, together.

Leaving me.

Alone at the altar in my white lace gown, a thousand Swarovski crystals glittering mockingly.

The whispers started then, a rising tide of shock and pity, and cruel amusement.

Emilia Winston, jilted. The society pages would feast on this for weeks.

My carefully constructed world shattered.

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and shameful. I would not cry. Not here.

Then, a different figure moved from the Sterling family pew.

Senator Alexander Sterling. Jackson's uncle.

A man of immense power in Washington, his presence always commanding, his demeanor usually cool, almost distant.

He walked towards me, his expression unreadable.

He stopped before me, ignoring the cacophony of the crowd.

He held out a hand. In it, a document. It looked like a formal agreement.

"Emilia," his voice was low, but it cut through the noise. "This is an outrage. A stain on my family's name."

He paused, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something warm in his usually guarded grey eyes.

"The Winstons and Sterlings were meant to be joined today."

He took a breath.

"Since you were to marry into the Sterling family anyway," he said, his gaze direct, unwavering. "Perhaps you would consider marrying me instead?"

The chapel fell into an even deeper, more profound silence.

My mind raced. Marry Alexander? Jackson's uncle? The formidable Senator Sterling?

It was madness.

But the alternative? To walk out of here, the subject of ridicule, my future in tatters?

I looked at Alexander. At the quiet strength in his face. The unexpected offer.

A lifeline.

A strange calm settled over me.

I slowly nodded.

"Yes," I said, my voice surprisingly clear. "Yes, I will."