“Now you’ll never marry my son!” my mother-in-law laughed, setting my wedding dress on fire. I wiped my tears, smiled coldly, and said, “Enjoy destroying that dress, because the wedding was never the real trap.” Her face went completely pale when I made one quick phone call…

The practical survivor inside me—a muscle built through years of scraping by—stepped up to the microphone in my brain. “Absolutely not. The wedding is happening today. The logistics are simply… shifting.”

The heavy oak door to the suite blew open with the force of a detonation.

Jason stood in the threshold, clad in a razor-sharp black tuxedo, looking continue reading …