He Wanted an AI Bride Swap? Surprise, I Swapped Husbands for Real! Chapter 09

Three months later, the annual Starlight Awards.

That evening, cold rain soaked the steps outside the venue. Damian wandered by the security line in a wrinkled trench coat.

He gave his name. Security checked the list and still blocked him.

“Sorry, Mr. Cross. You’re not on the invitation list.”

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through contacts. Every call went unanswered.

Cross Group’s stockpile never moved. Loans defaulted one after another.

After the scandal, several business partners withdrew from their projects, and the company’s cash flow finally collapsed, leaving it on the verge of bankruptcy.

People who had once gone out of their way to help him now looked away when they spotted him through their car windows.

He put his phone away and retreated beyond the security cordon, rain dripping from the hem of his coat into the mud.

A black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the red carpet.

Damian’s head snapped up.

The door opened. Flashes went off.

Nathan stepped out first and reached for me.

I took his hand and stood, bending to straighten my skirt.

White satin flowed around my feet, the waist fitting smoothly without any tightness or strained creases.

The gown was an updated version of the original wedding dress, redesigned by its original designer and tailored to my current measurements.

At the fitting, the designer asked if I wanted the waist taken in more. I shook my head.

“This is good. I want to be comfortable.”

After months of treatment, my color and strength had returned.

My weight had stabilized around 110 pounds. My waist was slimmer.

Nathan, in a white suit, steered me around a puddle, then stepped aside so I could pose for photos in front of the event backdrop.

“Elara — over here!”

I turned toward the cameras.

A reporter held out a mic.

“Your first video since you resumed posting was very well received. Will you continue managing the account yourself?”

“Yes. From content to partnerships, I review everything myself.”

These past three months, I’d picked up filming and editing again. Read every contract before signing. Tonight’s invitation had been sent directly to me.

“Anything you want to say to your fans?”

I looked at the camera.

“Thank you for sticking with me. I’ll see you in my next video.”

Nathan stood off-camera until the interview ended, then handed me my wrap.

I smiled at him and walked into the venue beside him.

Outside the security line, Damian took two steps forward. Security stopped him.

He opened his mouth. The word “Elara” drowned in the shutter noise.

Before, at every event, I always looked at him first.

Where to stand. What to say. Whether my skirt was straight. I waited for his nod.

Just now, I’d stood alone in front of the cameras, answered smoothly, and never once looked for him.

Damian slowly let go of the security tape.

His phone rang again. A payment demand.

He stared at the screen until it stopped ringing. Didn’t answer.

The venue doors closed. The rain fell harder.

*****

Three hours later, the ceremony ended.

I wrapped myself in my shawl and got into the car. Just as I fastened my seat belt, the car lurched to a sudden stop.

Nathan reached out to steady me. A screech of brakes came from ahead.

“Elara! Elara!”

Through the rain-slicked windshield, I saw Damian shove past security and stumble in front of the car.

His coat was soaked. His hair stuck to his forehead. His outstretched arms shook.

The driver honked. He didn’t move.

The headlights hit him. Damian squinted and tried to walk toward the back seat. His legs suddenly gave out.

His knees hit the mud.

He braced himself against the ground and tried to stand, but his legs gave out, leaving him kneeling in the mud.

He looked up. His red eyes locked onto my window.

*****