Abandoned Bride's Ruthless Comeback

For the seventh time, I stood at the altar, pregnant with his child, waiting to marry Justice Keith.

And for the seventh time, he abandoned me. His phone rang, and just like that, he was gone-rushing to the side of his "fragile" stepsister, Kamala, who was supposedly having another panic attack.

He pushed me aside in front of everyone, his family sneering that a "new-money girl" like me would never understand their loyalty. This was the man who baked her special cakes in the middle of the night while ignoring my own hunger, the man who had left me at seventeen other almost-weddings and rehearsals.

But this time, as I stood there in my wedding dress, the humiliation was a physical weight. I was tired of being his second choice, the understanding fiancée he always came back to with empty promises.

So I walked out. I cancelled the wedding, shattered his family's priceless heirloom, and secretly terminated the pregnancy that tied me to him. I wasn't just leaving anymore. I was going to spend the next seven years meticulously planning how to burn his entire corrupt, old-money empire to the ground.

Chapter 1

CLARA O'DONNELL POV:

The chill of the chapel air was a familiar ache, a ghost of seventeen other almost-weddings. Justice Keith had always been good at leaving. Not just me, but the expectations, the promises, the future we' d meticulously planned. But this time, standing there in the pristine white of a gown that felt more like a shroud, I felt a kick. A soft, undeniable flutter beneath my silk-covered belly. It wasn' t just my heart that broke anymore.

I smoothed my hand over the fabric, a small, involuntary gesture.

Justice, handsome and imposing in his tailored tuxedo, hadn't noticed. Or maybe he had, and chose to ignore it. He was looking at me, though, his eyes a confusing mix of adoration and something else I couldn't quite name.

"Our little one," he whispered, his lips grazing my forehead. "Soon, we'll be a family. A real family."

It sounded like a vow. It felt like a lie.

The minister cleared his throat, his voice rich and resonant, ready to begin the sacred words. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Then, the shrill, obnoxious ring of a phone cut through the hallowed air. It was Justice's.

His jaw tightened. The tenderness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, distant look. It was the same look I' d seen so many times before. The mask of obligation settling over his face.

I reached for his arm, my fingers closing around the expensive fabric of his sleeve. "Don't," I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper. My grip was desperate.

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to the phone, then back to my pleading eyes. He didn't answer it. A flicker of hope, foolish and fragile, sparked in my chest.

Then, it rang again. Persistence. Always persistence from her.

"I have to see who it is," he murmured, already