Evelyn wasn’t given a choice.
Damian had told her what he wanted.
He wanted her to understand who was in control.
He wanted her to realize that, to him, she was nothing more than a possession he had claimed that night.
And all of that became painfully clear the moment she looked at herself in the mirror, dressed in the burning red wedding gown.
The color should have represented the fiery passion of love.
Instead, all Evelyn could see was betrayal.
“Eve, are you okay?” Isla, her younger sister, asked hesitantly.
Her voice was timid and soft, as though she wasn’t sure whether she should even be asking.
Evelyn had nothing to smile about.
Yet when she heard her sister’s concern, she looked at her through the mirror and forced her lips into a reassuring smile.
“Of course I am, little sister.” Her fingers lightly brushed over the red lace at her waist.
“Isn’t this wedding dress prettier than the one I wore before?”
Isla stared at her.
She might have been young, but she understood exactly what had happened in the wedding hall.
And she understood the pain hidden behind Evelyn’s smile.
She was young, but not too young to recognize when her sister was hurting.
“Eve, if you don’t want to marry him, then don’t.” Isla stepped closer.
“Run away.
I’ll cover for you.”
Evelyn froze.
She stared at her sister through the mirror, and the warmth behind her eyes slowly gave way to tears.
Before she could stop them, a few slipped down her cheeks.
Isla immediately rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her.
“Eve, don’t cry.
I’m here for you.
I’ll support you even if you decide to leave right now.
I will—”
The door was suddenly thrown open.
“You’ll support her if she elopes?”
Lyla stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed sharply on Isla.
A faint curve touched her lips —not quite a smile.
But there was something almost satisfied in her eyes.
“You certainly have the wrong kind of courage, Isla.”
Isla immediately stepped back, instinctively moving closer to Evelyn as if trying to hide behind her.
The sight made Lyla’s expression tighten.
“Elder Sister, I…
I…” Isla stammered nervously.
“I was just worried about Eve.
She—”
“Worried?” Lyla let out a cold laugh.
“Who are you to worry about her?”
Her expression hardened.
“Don’t forget who you are.
You’re nothing more than an illegitimate child Father brought home.
You’re not our sister, and you never will be.”
Isla lowered her gaze.
Her fingers tightened unconsciously around Evelyn’s.
Evelyn felt the tremor in her sister’s hand and immediately stood straighter.
“Sister.” Her voice was sharper now.
But Lyla didn’t care.
Perhaps she had been waiting for this moment for far longer than anyone realized.
For years, Evelyn had been the favored daughter —the beautiful, rebellious one who could defy their father and still remain precious in his eyes.
And Lyla had watched it all.
Watched their father indulge Evelyn.
Watched people admire her.
Watched Evelyn receive the things Lyla had once wanted for herself.
Now, for the first time, Evelyn had fallen from that pedestal.
And Lyla found it surprisingly easy to breathe.
She stepped closer.
Then slapped Evelyn across the face.
The crack echoed through the room.
Isla froze.
“Eve!” Her grip on Evelyn tightened.
“You’ve brought such disgrace to our family.” Lyla’s voice was cold.
“Are you happy now?”
Evelyn said nothing.
Her face remained turned to the side.
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
Lyla watched it fall.
For the briefest second, something almost resembling satisfaction flickered in her eyes.
Then it disappeared.
“Don’t disgrace us any more than you already have.
If you’ve had enough, stop causing trouble.
Go back to the wedding hall and finish the ceremony.”
She turned to leave.
But just before stepping through the door, she paused.
“Oh, and I came here to tell you what Father said.”
Evelyn slowly lifted her eyes.
Lyla looked back at her.
“After tonight, you may still carry the Beaumont name, but you’re no longer a Beaumont.”
Her lips curved faintly.
“So when you leave this house after finishing the wedding, don’t ever think about coming back.” She paused deliberately.
“For Father, you’re no longer his daughter.”
The words struck Evelyn harder than the slap.
Yet she refused to let Lyla see it.
She simply stared at her sister.
And Lyla held her gaze for another moment before finally walking away.
The door closed behind her.
Only then did Evelyn’s composure finally break.
She slumped back into the chair and closed her eyes as tears silently streamed down her cheeks.
Isla immediately reached for a tissue and gently dabbed them away.
Her own eyes had turned red.
“Eve, don’t listen to Elder Sister.
How could you not be a Beaumont?
She must have said that because she’s angry.
Once Father calms down, everything will settle.
You’ll still be his daughter … and our sister.”
They were only words of reassurance, and Evelyn knew that better than anyone.
Nothing would return to the way it had been.
Nothing about her would remain the same.
The moment she would take the vows with the man who had betrayed her, something inside her would be ruined forever.
Everything she had once believed in…
Everything she had once trusted…
Everything she had once considered beautiful…
Would become nothing more than a painful reminder.
She would never … ever … believe in love the same way again.
“Eve, you—”
“I’m fine, LaLa.” Evelyn forced a weak smile.
When she opened her eyes again, there were no tears left in them.
She stood and simply said, “Let’s go.
The night is too heavy.
I want to end it as soon as possible.”
With that, she turned and walked toward the door.
Isla’s brows knitted; however, she quickly followed.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
In the main hall,
The massive doors opened once again.
By now, the chaos that had shaken the wedding hall had settled into an uneasy silence.
The guests returned to their tables, though hardly anyone was paying attention to the food and drinks in front of them.
Everyone was waiting.
Waiting to see what would happen next.
So when the doors opened, hundreds of eyes immediately turned towards them.
And then —
The hall fell silent.
But she was no longer wearing the white wedding gown she had entered in.
She was dressed in red —a deep, burning red.
The lace gown hugged her figure before falling into a dramatic train behind her.
Intricate lace covered the bodice and swept down her waist, while the delicate embroidery caught the light in every movement.
The gown wasn’t merely beautiful —it was striking, almost dangerous.
The color transformed her completely.
The white gown from earlier had made her look like a beautiful bride.
But this one … this one made her look like a woman walking willingly into a fire.
Her steps were light and graceful, yet there was no softness in them.
No nervousness.
No anticipation.
She walked with her head held high, her expression calm and unreadable.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
They simply stared.
The same guests who had been mesmerized by the exquisite white gown now found themselves struggling to look away.
Someone finally whispered, “Is that the same bride?”
“With one change of dress, she looks completely different.”
“That gown…” another voice murmured, almost breathlessly.
“It makes the previous one look ordinary.”
The first gown had been magnificent —everyone knew that.
But this one was something else entirely.
The red lace looked almost alive beneath the chandeliers.
It made Evelyn’s pale skin appear even more luminous and sharpened the delicate angles of her features.
The train followed behind her like a trail of flames.
“I thought this was supposed to be a wedding of betrayal and revenge,” someone whispered.
“Then why does she look like that?”
Another guest swallowed.
“Like she’s the bride of some forbidden kingdom.”
Whispers slowly spread through the hall.
But Evelyn heard none of them.
She simply kept walking.
At the end of the aisle, Damian stood perfectly still.
He was still dressed in black, though the subtle gold accents on his lapel and tie revealed that he, too, had changed.
He looked as handsome as before.
Yet somehow, he seemed entirely different now.
The darkness around him no longer felt like a hidden mystery.
But rather, it felt like the truth.
The more Evelyn looked at him, the more vividly she remembered his betrayal.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her gown.
Charles stood nearby.
But he hadn’t stepped forward to fulfill the traditional role of walking his daughter down the aisle.
So Evelyn walked alone.
When she neared the altar, Damian stepped forward and extended his hand toward her.
Evelyn stopped.
Her eyes dropped to his hand.
Then she lifted them to his face.
For a second, their gazes met.
But … she said nothing.
She simply ignored his hand and climbed the stage on her own.
Damian slowly withdrew his hand.
His jaw tightened.
Evelyn didn’t look at him.
She took another step, intending to walk past.
But then—
Her heel caught in the fabric of her gown, and she stumbled.
She tried to regain her balance, but the long train tangled beneath her feet.
Realizing she wouldn’t be able to steady herself, she instinctively braced for the fall.
Just then, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, catching her just in time.
Evelyn’s eyes widened.
She looked up and met his deep, unwavering gaze.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
His hold around her waist was firm, steadying her without hesitation.
“Careful!”