Claimed by the Man I Shouldn't Love

"Tick... tick..." Jessica Southern had never felt time crawl like this before-only twenty seconds left on the ticking bomb.

Tch, wasn't fate generous? Her fifteenth birthday brought a car crash that took her parents' lives, and shortly after, the guy she loved got engaged to someone else. Now, for her sixteenth, the universe decided to blow her up. Nice.

"Jessica! Go to hell!" The man's voice echoed harshly in her ears.

He was probably off saving his precious fiancée by now, right?

If she had any regrets in her life, it had to be this - setting up a fake kidnapping with the hope that he'd be forced to choose... her. Seriously, what was she thinking?

She really bought into the idea that he still loved her. He had spoiled her since they were kids; she had been his whole world, or so she thought. Fifteen years of being his favorite, and she bet everything on that.

Her only takeaway now? She walked right into it.

Once a man's heart moves on, even if you die in front of him, he won't blink. That's what she'd come to believe.

The countdown kept going, "10... 9..."

Mom, Dad... I'm so sorry. I still haven't found who killed you.

"Boom!" A massive explosion echoed through Clariton in Helvaria.

The headline spread fast-a Young Miss from the Southern family obsessed with Alan Knight, CEO of the Knight Group, hires fake thugs to abduct herself and the CEO's fiancée, hoping to force a choice. The twist? The "fake" kidnappers turned out to be enemies of the Knight family. In the end, both women died.

Alan, enraged and grief-stricken, hunted down every last one of them, avenging his fiancée. As for Jessica? He hated her so much he refused to let her be buried. No grave, no remains-just vanished from existence.

It was the hottest tea of the year. Everyone talked about it.

Four years later, the grandest wedding Clariton had ever seen took place in its cathedral.

The groom: Alan. The bride: Chloe Southern, Jessica's cousin.

A classic fairytale scene-handsome man, beautiful woman, walking down a long red carpet under the gaze of the world. Picture perfect.

"Alan," the priest spoke loud and clear, "do you take Chloe to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together according to God's law, to love her, comfort her, honor and protect her?"

Alan stood there, sharp features carved like stone, icy and unreadable. Even in a moment like this, he radiated a chill that felt almost untouchable.

His eyes, dark and deep, held no light. His lips parted slightly. "I-"

"Alan!" a sharp voice cut in right on cue.

Michael Brooks rushed in, clearly out of breath, and leaned close to whisper something urgent.

"Get them! Don't let the thief escape with the files!"

"Already sent a team! I'm heading there myself!" Michael spun and dashed out just as fast.

Chloe could sense something was seriously off-the man's voice was icy, like death itself. What kind