Wedding Defied by Ex

I stood in the shadow of a marble column, my fingers pressing into the cool stone as if it might absorb some of my pain. The grand ballroom of the Blackwood Tower glittered with crystal chandeliers and the diamonds of Manhattan's elite, but all eyes were fixed on the same tableau—my husband and his newest acquisition.

Alexander Blackwood, with his perfect posture and that practiced smile that never quite reached his glacial blue eyes, was sliding a delicate orchid corsage onto Victoria Sterling's slim wrist. Her laugh tinkled across the room like wind chimes, musical and light. The photographers surged forward, capturing the moment with rapid-fire clicks.

"To Victoria," Alexander's voice carried effortlessly across the room, commanding attention without effort. "Whose unique grace has brought new light into all our lives."

I flinched at the words. Five years of marriage, and he had never once spoken of me with such tenderness. My gaze fixed on Victoria's face—the high cheekbones, the almond-shaped eyes, the cascade of dark hair. She looked so much like Serena that my chest constricted with a double grief. My sister's ghost, wearing another woman's skin, accepting my husband's adoration.

I reached for the silver locket at my throat, the one piece of Serena I had left. Inside was a tiny photo of us as children, before death and betrayal had torn our world apart. Before I had made the fatal mistake of believing Alexander Blackwood could love anyone but her.

"Mrs. Blackwood." A waiter appeared at my elbow, offering champagne. "Would you care for a drink?"

I shook my head, watching as Alexander guided Victoria through the crowd toward a circle of investors. His hand rested possessively at the small of her back—a gesture he had never used with me in public. I was the wife who stood three steps behind, the convenient accessory to be displayed when protocol demanded and ignored when it didn't.

"Gentlemen," Alexander's voice carried across the ballroom as he introduced Victoria to the group of gray-haired men whose collective wealth could buy small countries. "I believe you've all met my wife."

For one disorienting moment, I thought he meant me. Then Victoria smiled and extended her hand, and I realized he hadn't even acknowledged my presence. I stood just steps away, invisible in plain sight.

"Victoria has shown extraordinary insight into our Asian market expansion," Alexander continued, his voice warm with pride. "Her background in international relations has been invaluable."

The knife twisted deeper. I had a degree in business from Columbia that had gathered dust since our wedding day. Alexander had made it clear from the beginning that my role was decorative, not functional.

I slipped away, unable to bear another moment of the charade. The ladies' lounge offered momentary sanctuary, its plush seating and soft lighting a stark contrast to the sharp edges of my reality. I sank onto a velvet bench, clutching my sister's locket so tightly the edges bit into my palm.

"Don't cry," I whispered to myself,