He Bet I’d Crawl Back—My New Husband Was Waiting Outside Chapter 08

He Bet I’d Crawl Back—My New Husband Was Waiting Outside Chapter 08

The wedding was held in an old stone church in the Kent countryside.

No media.

No Varenna Group investors.

No family members I’d have to smile for and entertain.

Only people who genuinely wished us well.

Declan stood at the end of the aisle in a black suit, waiting for me.

The minister asked if I would take the man before me as my husband. In good times and in bad. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live.

I looked at Declan.

And answered with a smile:

“I do.”

A screech of brakes tore through the air outside the church.

A convoy of black armored vehicles from New York blocked the road.

Sebastian shoved past the security guards trying to hold him back and staggered into the chapel.

His ribs hadn’t healed.

The tattoo on his chest was still seeping blood through his shirt.

But he moved like he couldn’t feel any of it.

“No!”

“Ginevra, you can’t marry him!”

He dropped to his knees on the crimson carpet.

This man who ruled New York without question, who had never bowed his head to a single living

soul, the heir to the Varenna empire.

He knelt there like a dog thrown out into a storm.

Both knees on the ground. Voice shattered.

“Baby.”

“We’re not getting divorced.”

“I never once wanted a divorce.”

“Please don’t marry someone else.”

I looked down at him.

There was no sympathy in my eyes.

Only undisguised disgust.

“Sebastian.”

“For the sake of the nine years we spent together.”

“I won’t press charges for you crashing my wedding.”

“But you are not welcome here.”

“Go back to wherever you came from.”

Sebastian’s tears finally fell.

“I know I was wrong. I mean it.”

“Just give me one last chance. I’ll change everything.”

“I can’t live without you.”

“Since you left, I think about you every single day.”

“Every dream I have is about the way you used to love me.”

“Ginevra, I love you.”

“I love you more than anyone ever could.”

He tore open his black shirt, frantic, desperate.

The moon tattoo on his chest was soaked in blood.

“You are my moon.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Just don’t leave me behind.”

I looked at the tattoo.

And I laughed.

I couldn’t help it.

Sebastian went rigid.

I met his hollow, devastated eyes and told him, quietly:

“That design was for the baby who didn’t make it.”

“Not for a man who’s only now learning how to love me.”

“Sebastian, I already have someone who truly loves me. And I love him back.”

“Declan is my husband.”

“As for you.”

“Even if every other man on earth dropped dead.”

“I would never be with you again.”

Declan’s ears turned faintly red.

He took my hand and slid a nine-carat diamond ring slowly onto my finger.

Every last trace of color drained from Sebastian’s face.

As if every drop of blood in his body had frozen solid in that single moment.

I held Declan’s hand and walked past Sebastian.

Declan leaned down and lifted me into his arms.

I pressed my face against his chest, glowing with happiness, as he carried me toward the

honeymoon car waiting

outside the church.

That was when Sebastian, left behind on the carpet, grabbed the silver cake knife from the wedding

table.