My Fiancé Married My Best Friend Chapter 05

My Fiancé Married My Best Friend Chapter 05

Tires shrieked. Dozens of them. At once.

A convoy of black armored Maybachs swarmed in. Doors flew open. Men in dark suits moved with

organized, lethal efficiency.

Then he was there. On his knees in the street. Gathering me gently into his arms.

“Nina. Cristo. I’m here. I’m sorry I’m late.” His voice, usually so deep and steady, was raw.

Liam raced to the hospital in a blind panic. He burst through the ER doors, his heart slamming against his

ribs.

Only to find Chloe sitting primly in a waiting room chair, sipping water, looking perfectly fine.

He skidded to a halt. “You… you said you were in a car accident!”

Chloe looked up. Her eyes were huge. Wet. She stood and threw her arms around him. “I was so scared! A

car barely grazed me. I’m okay, but I panicked… I needed you.”

His relief was swallowed instantly by a tidal wave of ice-cold dread. Nina. The way she’d looked at him

before she jumped. The utter finality in her eyes.

He shoved Chloe away. His hands shook as he pulled out his phone. He called her. Once. Twice. Ten times.

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

The cold truth crashed down. This wasn’t a tantrum. This was finished. His words. His choices. They’d

wrecked something forever.

He had to find her.

“I have to go,” he breathed.

Chloe clutched his arm. “Stay. Please. I’m still shaking. Nina… she needs time to cool off. We’ll go together

later. Explain everything…”

Liam shook her off, his eyes landing on the blood smeared across the passenger window. “Chloe. I made her

jump out of a moving car. For you. She’s hurt. There was a man… he took her. I have to find her or I’m going

to lose her forever.”

Her hand fell away. Her voice came out small and shattered. “Liam… do you… do you still love her?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just ran, the ghost of his own voice echoing in his head. *Nina is the purest

thing in my life.* He’d forgotten. He’d trampled it. For what?

He drove to the wedding venue like a man possessed.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

The plaza was lined with those black Maybach sedans. A crimson carpet-wider and more lavish than the

one he’d booked-stretched to the grand entrance. Rows of white roses stood like silent, elegant sentinels.

He pushed past the doorman. A chill swept through him. In the hall, a massive portrait dominated the space.

Nina in a stunning gown. Looking up at a man. Smiling. The man had a gaze that could freeze hell itself. His

very presence redefined the city’s power structure.

Xavier Thorne. The shadowy, ruthless head of the Thorne family made street thugs like Liam look like

amateurs.

Nina’s groom was Xavier Thorne?

Liam shoved through the ornate doors and burst into the main ballroom.

The wedding march was playing. And there she was. At the end of that endless crimson aisle. Radiant.

Glowing. She wore a smile he hadn’t seen in years. She walked slowly. Steadily. Toward Thorne.

No. No, no, no.

He watched in stunned silence as she reached the man. As they exchanged vows. When the officiant asked if

she’d take him, she said “I do,” her voice ringing clear through the quiet, solemn hall.

Liam finally found his voice. “No! Nina! You can’t marry him!”

He lunged forward, but two massive men in tuxedos materialized and pinned his arms in iron grips. He

thrashed like a wild animal, screaming her name. “Nina! Don’t do this! I forbid you to do this!”

His screams were swallowed by the sudden thunder of applause. The officiant announced their union.

Then Xavier Thorne cupped Nina’s face and kissed her deeply, possessively-like he was claiming her

entirely.

And Nina… Nina stood on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back. Not passive

acceptance. But fierce, equal surrender.

The room erupted.

Liam stopped fighting. All the strength bled out of him. The guards were the only thing keeping him upright.

He stood there, stunned, breathless, watching the woman he’d once owned kiss another man with a passion

that used to belong to him.