Chapter 11
All of this man’s tenderness, all of his love-Cynthia Aquil had probably taken it all.
Morinne Ayla might have claimed Alexander Lowell’s affection in name, but she could never touch his heart.
What he gave her… was only what he allowed her to have.
She had worked so hard, for so long. But even the smallest touch beyond his tolerance would be brushed away like dust.
Let alone the fantasy she once clung to-that love might follow marriage.
The wedding gown, pristine white and breathtaking, felt more like a shackle on her body than a dream come true. The
flawless makeup, the exquisite hair, the couture styling-it all made her look like someone else entirely.
She wore high heels and clung to Alexander’s arm as they made their entrance, but it all felt like a blur, like watching
someone else’s life unfold.
The ceremony began.
Soft pink petals rained down in waves, creating a scene so romantic it felt surreal-like stepping into a dream.
Guests stared at her with envy in their eyes, whispering in low, excited tones:
“Miss Ayla’s really something, huh? Mr. Lowell treats her so well-word is she even outshone that Aquil girl.”
“Oh, Cynthia Aquil? She’s irrelevant now. Just a nobody who fell from grace.”
“Exactly. After today, Morinne Ayla officially becomes Mrs. Lowell!”
The chorus of praise fed Morinne’s fragile sense of security. Her steps grew steadier. Her posture more confident.
Yes… no matter how much Alexander might’ve loved Cynthia, after today, she would be the legitimate Mrs. Lowell.
What was there to fear?
The smile on Morinne’s face became more genuine-one of true satisfaction.
Meanwhile, the celebrant was speaking, but Alexander’s mind was elsewhere.
He had already looked down at the guest seats five times.
At his status, he could behave however he wanted. No one would dare question it.
Some guests even followed his gaze, curious to see what-or who-had caught his attention.
Cynthia’s seat was empty.
His expression tightened, and a strange, uneasy flicker passed through his eyes.
Then the celebrant’s voice rang out clearly
“Do you, Alexander Lowell, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, to love, honor, and cherish, remaining faithful to her until death do you part?”
Chapter 11
42.31%
The room fell silent.
The celebrant repeated the question.
Once. Twice. Three times.
His expression was growing visibly awkward, yet still-there was no answer.
Morinne, on the verge of panic, tugged at Alexander’s hand, her voice trembling.
“Alex… Alex! What are you thinking? Are you nervous? It’s okay! It’s just the excitement-you probably just forgot what to
say!”
She smiled up at him desperately, hoping for a word, any sign of assurance.
Alexander blinked, pulled abruptly from his thoughts. He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He sent a message to the family driver.
“Uncle John, hasn’t Cynthia Aquil arrived yet?”
There was no reply.
Then, suddenly, the phone rang. He answered immediately.
“Mr. Lowell,” the driver’s voice was strained. “Miss Aquil… she’s gone. We’ve searched the entire house-me and the house
staff both. Her luggage is missing too. We think… we think she might’ve left. Run away, maybe.”
Thud-Alexander stood frozen. The phone slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a hollow, muffled thud.
No. She wouldn’t just leave out of spite.
Maybe she just couldn’t bear to watch him marry Morinne… Maybe she just needed time… Maybe…
A hundred thoughts raced through his mind, over and over.
Don’t overthink it, he told himself. Now isn’t the time.
Finish the wedding. Break the last thread between us. Make her give up completely.
