Blind Box Bride Escaped and He Lost It

The business world's reigning emperor, Ian Wade, was a lunatic.

He locked a hundred women inside a villa and treated them like blind-box prizes. Pulling one at random, he would marry whoever he drew.

Everyone thought getting picked was luck. Only I knew it was a curse.

In my last life, I was the one whose name came up.

After being reborn, I planned to destroy the magnetic strip on the blind box and dodge that twisted fate altogether.

But by some cruel twist of chance, I still ended up being the "lucky" one.

On the wedding day, history repeated itself.

Ian took a phone call, panic flashing across his face as he tore off his boutonniere.

"Jemma doesn't want to marry. She's threatening suicide. I have to go get her," he said.

The man who was supposed to marry Jemma Lane—Leland Riley, the Crownport's golden heir, stormed in, radiating icy fury.

He didn't chase after the runaway bride. Instead, he walked straight up to me and looked me over from head to toe.

"Ian ran off with my wife," Leland said, grabbing my chin.

"His debt becomes yours. You marry me and become Mrs. Riley. Fair enough, right?"

Staring at this man I had never crossed paths with in my previous life, I wiped away the tears I had been ready to fake.

Since Ian had shown no mercy, I saw no reason to play nice.

I smiled and nodded.

"Fair enough. I'll marry you."

Ian would get his wish and marry Jemma.

Whether they lived happily ever after or tore each other apart had nothing to do with me anymore.

The moment I spoke, every guest's gaze snapped toward me.

Leland curled his lips. The chill in his eyes eased, replaced by a hint of amused interest.

He released my chin and instead seized my wrist, his palm burning hot.

"Let's go," he said.

Then he turned and pulled me along.

My wedding gown trailed across the red carpet.

The Wade family's bodyguards tried to stop us.

Leland's men stepped forward, forming a human wall.

"Mr. Riley, this isn't proper—" the Foster family's butler stammered, face drained of color.

Leland didn't even look back. He lifted a hand slightly. In an instant, his men restrained the butler.

The scene spiraled into chaos. Camera flashes went wild. Reporters had probably never witnessed anything this explosive in their lives.

A socialite bride switching grooms on the spot. I could hear Ian's mother shrieking in rage behind me, hear the guests buzzing in disbelief.

"Is she insane? How dare she?"

"That's Leland—the Riley family heir. Their families are sworn rivals."

"This is going to be good."

Those voices faded farther and farther away.

Leland shoved me into a black luxury sedan. The door slammed shut, sealing out the noise.

He leaned over to fasten my seatbelt.

We were so close I could smell him—the faint mix of tobacco and fir.

Unlike Ian's aggressive cologne, this scent was colder, cleaner.

"Scared?" he