Married Twice Loved Once

The night should have been beautiful. The lights in the ballroom glowed like fallen stars, the air filled with the scent of roses and champagne. From the outside, it looked like a fairy-tale party. But inside the room, Aria Carter's world was ending.

She stumbled backward, her chest burning with pain. Her hands pressed against the wound, but warm blood kept spilling out, soaking through her white silk gown. The dress she had dreamed of wearing on her wedding anniversary was no longer pure and shining. It was stained in deep red.

Her vision blurred. Each breath came like fire in her lungs. The voices around her echoed, cruel and sharp.

"Look at you," Sophia Hart's voice rang out. She stepped forward, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Her lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "The great Mrs. Cross... brought down like a dog. All that pride, all that patience, and what did it give you? Nothing."

Aria's heart clenched, not only from the pain but from the sight of the woman before her. Sophia her best friend. The one she trusted with secrets, with tears, with dreams. The one she defended countless times.

"You... Sophia..." Aria's lips trembled. She could barely form words.

Sophia crouched down, tilting her head like she was studying a broken toy. "Don't look at me like that. Did you really think I cared about you? Everything I ever did was for myself. You were just... convenient."

The words cut deeper than the wound.

Behind Sophia, another figure leaned against the doorway. Vivienne Carter. Her own sister. Dressed elegantly, her smile was calm, almost lazy, as if she was watching a play she had already seen before.

"Father was right," Vivienne said softly, her voice dripping with mockery. "You were always the mistake. You weren't fit to be a Carter. And you were never fit to be Mrs. Cross."

Aria's body shook. Betrayal pressed down on her chest heavier than the blood loss. Her sister. Her best friend. And the man she thought was her husband.

Her eyes searched the room desperately. And then she found him.

Damian Cross.

Her husband.

He stood a few steps away, tall and cold, dressed in his usual dark suit. His face was as perfect as ever, sharp lines and deep eyes that once made her heart race. But now, those eyes were empty, darker than the night itself.

Aria reached out weakly, her bloody fingers trembling. "Damian... help me..."

For a moment, just a moment, she hoped. Hoped he would step forward, hold her, stop the pain, protect her like a husband should.

But Damian didn't move.

His lips parted, his voice calm, low, and merciless.

"You should never have been my wife."

The words struck harder than any blade.

Aria froze, her hand still stretched out, hanging in the air. Slowly, it dropped back to her side. Tears streamed down her pale face, mixing with the blood on her lips.

Her world