Chapter 20
Mrs. Reeves had arrived early at the venue.
She had waited for this day longer than she could remember.
Her face, exhausted from endless greetings and farewells, still had to wear a smile.
But Summer didn’t look at her–not once.
She was focused solely on her phone.
She knew ruining today’s wedding was deeply unfair to Caleb.
But she had no other choice.
The ceremony followed the planned schedule step by step.
Caleb held Summer’s hand tightly the entire time, refusing to let go for even a second.
Her palm grew slick with sweat, but she didn’t try to pull away.
One of Caleb’s friends approached, smiling as he congratulated them.
“Congrats to you both. And thank you, Miss Reeves, for making Caleb’s dream come true–he finally gets to marry the muse of his life!”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Caleb didn’t mind. He let them laugh.
Summer slowly looked up, her gaze falling on Caleb.
His features looked almost like they’d been carved by hand.
Every glance he gave her was filled with love.
She hadn’t expected that the man she saved on a whim in Italy would turn out to be the future heir
of the powerful Stone family in New York.
Back then, she’d been willing to walk through fire for Wilder.
So charging into a drug lord’s compound to save someone important to Wilder had seemed like
nothing.
Saving Caleb had been incidental.
But he had taken that debt seriously.
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He’d repaid her with unwavering devotion.
Summer’s grip tightened in his hand.
Caleb glanced down, surprised to see her smiling up at him.
The ceremony was about to begin.
The wedding music played as Summer, dressed in a white gown, walked through the crowd toward Caleb.
This was the wedding she had imagined in her dreams, over and over again–except in those dreams, the man beside her had always been Wilder.
Now, it was Caleb.
Caleb looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
He had married the woman he wanted most. In this moment, he was the happiest man alive.
He leaned in, unable to resist the urge to kiss her.
The crowd erupted in applause and cheers.
But just then-
the doors were flung open.
Dozens of men in black suits stormed in, quickly securing the venue.
No one was allowed to move.
Leading them was Shaw.
His eyes locked onto Summer with disbelief and fury.
He couldn’t believe it.
Summer was marrying another man?
Wasn’t she hopelessly in love with Wilder?
Behind him, Wilder was being wheeled in.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Seriously? Causing a scene on someone’s wedding day?”
“Look at him–doesn’t exactly scream ‘invited guest,‘ does he?”
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Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd.
The guests were all prominent figures from New York’s elite circles.
Mrs. Reeves squinted at the man in the wheelchair. He looked familiar.
When she recognized him, she gasped sharply.
Wasn’t that the man who’d once stolen her daughter away?
Summer had told her there’d been no real marriage between them.
That Wilder had tricked her with a fake certificate.
Seeing him now, clearly here to crash the wedding, Mrs. Reeves fumed.
Before she could step forward, a woman surged from the crowd, pointing at Wilder and screaming.
“You murderer! How dare you show your face here?!”
Her voice was hoarse and hysterical, sending uneasy glances rippling through the guests.
She looked ready to lunge at Wilder, but Shaw shoved her back.
A middle–aged man rushed forward to help the woman up.
When his gaze met Wilder’s, his eyes burned with hatred.
“You bastard! You got your own brother killed! How do you even have the guts to come back to this
country?!”
“Call the cops!” the woman shrieked at her husband. “He’s wanted! Have them arrest him!”
But Wilder ignored them both completely.
His eyes were fixed ahead.
On Summer.
The woman he had dreamed of, searched for, ached for–night after night.
When she’d vanished, he’d feared the worst.
He’d thought his enemies had taken her.
He’d thought he might never see her again.
He, who had never believed in anything, had prayed every single night.
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He gave no acknowledgment to the people shouting at him.
Instead, he nodded for his men to drag them aside.
Then, painfully, Wilder stood.
Leaning on a cane, he hobbled step by step toward Summer.
He extended his right hand toward her.
His voice trembled.
“Summer… I’m sorry. I’m too late.”
All eyes turned to Summer.
She cast one brief glance at the man before her.
Then slowly, her lips curled into a smile.
“You’re not late,” she said softly.
“Not at all.”
