While He Waited in Aspen, I Married His Rival Chapter 01

While He Waited in Aspen, I Married His Rival Chapter 01

On the day of my wedding, my fiancé, Liam, was waiting at a five-star hotel in Aspen when he was sent a photo from my wedding.

The groom wasn’t him.

Three days earlier, to please his lover, Chloe, he had unilaterally moved our wedding from the ranch we’d always planned on to this gaudy hotel.

By chance, I’d overheard him bragging to his friends.

“Ava’s run-down ranch is on the verge of bankruptcy. She can’t survive without me.”

“She’s probably in tears right now, scrambling for a flight, terrified I’m going to drop her.”

He guessed wrong.

I didn’t book a flight.

I made another call instead.

“Ethan, about that proposal for a family alliance… are you free on Saturday?”

On the other end of the line was my future husband—and the man who was about to ruin Liam.

…

Three days earlier, before I called Ethan, I received an email from Liam.

No greeting. No opening.

The subject line was cold and blunt: “Final Wedding Venue Confirmation.” Attached was a reservation for a five-star hotel in Aspen, along with a dazzling promotional photo.

In the picture, the hotel’s infinity pool reflected a golden sunset against the snow-capped Rockies. It was luxurious, modern, the perfect fit for a California tech bro.

But my eyes locked on the silhouette by the pool, a figure artfully placed for effect.

A woman in a fitted business suit stood in profile, her posture ramrod straight, the ghost of a triumphant smile on her lips.

I could almost see how her blond hair would shine under the Aspen sun.

Chloe Vance.

Liam’s project lead. His lover.

Not me, his bride.

After that email, Liam went silent.

I knew him. He assumed his legal department had already notified my attorney, and that this email was just a “kind” reminder, in case I, a “country girl” from Montana, couldn’t find my way to Aspen.

In his world, that was efficiency. Procedure.

My feelings had never been part of the process.

An icy weight settled in my chest. I rode out to the edge of the ranch and didn’t come back until the moon was high in the sky.

When I returned to the main house, it was dark except for a sliver of light under the study door. I slowed my steps, and that’s when I heard Liam losing his temper with his assistant.

“Ava’s still not back? She’s a grown woman. Does she have to check in with me every time she comes home late?” His voice was sharp with impatience.

“But… Miss Monroe left this afternoon. I’m just worried about her…”

Liam let out a sneer that cut like a shard of ice.

“Worried? She’s in town right now, trying to change her family’s flights.”

“Relax. She’s desperate for this acquisition. For the money, she’d do anything. If I told her to get married on a pile of cow dung, she’d smile and nod.”

The assistant said nothing.

Instead, Liam began pacing, muttering to himself, “Damn it, Chloe still hasn’t answered my email… it’s been five minutes. I should check in.”

By the time he threw open the study door and rushed out, I had already melted back into the shadows of the hallway.

The ranch house he’d insisted I move into for the “convenience of wedding planning” suddenly felt as cold and unfamiliar as any hotel.

Things used to be good. But that was before four months ago, when Liam’s ambitious Blackstone Valley Luxury Resort project officially launched and everything changed.

Chloe, the project manager, flew in from California and became Liam’s shadow.

They were inseparable—in meetings, on land surveys, at “work” events that lasted all day.

When I showed him the wedding dress styles I’d picked out, he glanced at them and tossed them aside.

“All this vintage lace is too old-fashioned, Ava. Have Chloe’s team find you a more modern designer.”

When I mentioned the ceremony we had agreed to hold under the century-old oak tree on the ranch, he dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“That’s a spot for tourists, Ava. Our wedding needs to be held somewhere that reflects the company’s value.”

Every time I tried to argue, he would look up from replying to Chloe’s emails with a look I was coming to know all too well: a mix of pity and impatience.

“Ava, stop being so emotional. Aren’t you marrying me for the buyout on that run-down ranch of yours?”

“I’m already giving you a generous acquisition price. Why are you still hung up on these irrelevant details?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Chloe’s call would come through. He’d rise with a smile and walk to the window to speak softly with her, leaving me alone in a room full of suffocating silence.

In a single moment, I went from the heir guarding a century-old legacy to a lonely outsider in my own business marriage.

So the family, land, and love I treasured were, in his eyes, just assets on a balance sheet—“irrelevant details” that could be swapped out at any time.

That night, I didn’t return to our bedroom. I slept in one of the guest rooms.

I didn’t hear from Liam once.