The ballroom pulsed with false laughter and clinking glasses, but all Lily heard was the silence that followed Daou’s disappearance.
He was gone.
One blink, one breath, and the only real thing left in that jeweled cage of a night had vanished into the shadows.
Her heart launched itself into her throat. Without thinking, she stepped back from Leo and darted through the crowd, ignoring the gasps and stares. The skirt of her lavender gown tangled at her ankles, but she didn’t stop. Her only compass was where she last saw Daou—by the curtained edge near the servants’ wing.
“Daou!” she called softly, her voice cracking. “Daou, wait!”
Her heels clicked against the marble, echoing desperation, until a hand clamped down on her arm.
“Enough,” her father’s voice thundered in the hallway.
Lily turned sharply. “Dad, let me go!.”
“Shut up and behave!” Emilio Cruz said, dragging her away from the corridor and deeper into the estate. “You’re putting everything at risk, Lily. Our family, our name—”
“What about me?” she shouted. “What about what I want? Or doesn’t that matter anymore?”
He paused. “You matter. But so does the legacy we built. One doesn’t survive without the other.”
Lily shook her head, blinking away tears. She hated this mansion. She hated its marble, its mirrors, its coldness dressed as wealth. And right now, she hated that her father’s voice—so calm, so resolute—wasn’t lying. He believed it.
She barely noticed the crowd parting around them as Leo approached.
“There you are,” he said smoothly, but his smile had soured. “It’s not polite to leave your fiancé in the middle of his celebration.”
She stiffened as Leo stepped closer, his hand brushing down her bare arm, a whisper of skin on silk. But then he gripped her chin—not cruelly, but tightly enough to send a message.
“You don’t walk away from me,” he murmured. “Not unless you want me to follow.”
Before Lily could react, he leaned in and pressed a rough kiss against her lips, more branding than affection.
She jerked back, slapping his chest. Just enough for the crowd to suspect something but they couldn't see the interaction between them.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
Leo’s eyes flared, something dangerous uncoiling beneath his tailored surface—but before he could speak, Alessandro stepped in between them.
“That’s enough, Leo.”
“She’s your daughter, Don Emilio,” Leo said, voice even but rigid. “But she’s going to be my wife. She needs to learn boundaries.”
“She will,” Emilio said sharply. “But not like this.”
For a second, power shifted. Leo glanced at Lily, then at her father. His jaw twitched, but he stepped back. “Fine. For now.”
Then he looked back at the crowd. “Sorry for the issues, my daughter is handling a lot of pressure especially with the wedding. Continue please.”
The rest of the party was a blur. Lily felt like a mannequin on display, her skin itching under every stare, every congratulations. She didn’t sleep that night.
She couldn’t.
The next morning, she left before dawn.
Daou was in that small apartment Dom owned.
He opened the door before she could even knock, as if he’d been standing behind it all night.
“Lily—”
“I can’t do it,” she whispered, throwing herself into his arms. “I can’t marry him, Daou. I can’t.”
She was trembling. Daou held her as if he never wanted to let go.
“Then don’t,” he said. “Let’s leave. Today.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“I mean it. I’ve got enough saved up. We can go anywhere—Mexico, Europe—wherever they won’t find us. We’ll start over. Just us.”
“But the wedding—”
“We’ll make them think you went through with it,” he said, the spark in his eyes igniting into fire. “You show up. Wait outside. But before you walk the aisle, vanish. I’ll be waiting at the airport with tickets.”
Her lips trembled. “Are you sure?”
He cupped her face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
It was finally the day of the Wedding
The gown was everything a bride was supposed to want—ivory silk, delicately embroidered lace, diamonds stitched into the veil. It was worth more than a dozen college tuitions. But to Lily, it felt like a funeral shroud.
Her mother helped her dress in silence. Neither of them spoke about anything. Celeste had grown quieter in the last two days, her eyes dull with exhaustion.
“You look beautiful,” her mother whispered, choking on the word.
Lily looked at her and hissed.
Celeste’s hands trembled. But she said nothing.
The Cathedral was a spectacle. Photographers. Florists. Politicians. Journalists. Everyone came to see the union of war and wealth—the Cruz heiress and the arms tycoon. Even the President’s cousin was rumored to attend.
Lily’s heart pounded. She arrived at the venue and everyone could see her. There were flashes everywhere but there was another in the car: Rihanna. Her best friend. They had similar looks and decided to style similarly that day.
As the flash light captured Lily she wound the dark glass of the car up and quickly switched clothes with Rihanna. She wore a veil and slipped out of the car with no attention on her. Rihanna also quickly changed into clothes she brought and went out.
Leo stood at the altar, perfect in white, polished like a predator in a wedding suit. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.
And just as the priest needed her to walk down the aisle, she was nowhere to be found.
Her mom rushed to the car, but all she saw was a white gown laying on the chair. She screamed and Rihanna alongside a few other people went but couldn't find her. There were flashes and buzzes and the head line of that day.
“ THE RUNAWAY BRIDE.”
Lily was all over the news within minutes but she didn't care because she was about to run away with the love of her life but Leo cared.
He didn't panic much but his face showed anger. He was definitely going to make Lily regret this action for the rest of their marriage and probably her life.
Hours Later at the International Terminal, Airport
The terminal was quiet, oddly serene for a moment so chaotic.
Lily sat near Gate 47, her heart still sprinting beneath her ribs. The veil was gone, her hair tousled from the run.
But Daou hadn’t arrived.
She checked the time again. It was 11:53 p.m. Seven minutes.
The ticket confirmation he’d texted her wasn’t working. The airline staff checked their records. Nothing booked under her name. Nothing under his either.
Midnight came. Then 12:30. Then 1:15 a.m.
She called. No answer.
She called again.
Straight to voicemail.
Lily felt her chest cave in. A thousand questions hammered through her head.
Did he get caught?
Did he change his mind?
Was this another trick by her family?
No.
No.
She refused to believe it. He loved her. He promised her. He—
Another hour passed.
And then it hit her. The plane was never booked.
He had never planned to leave with her.
Her stomach dropped like she’d been punched. A slow, aching realization crawled into her bones. Her gown wrinkled as she sank deeper into the stiff plastic airport seat, the fluorescent lights above making her feel cold and very, very alone.
All she had was a broken heart, a shattered plan, and a wedding everyone now knew didn’t happen.