Chapter 9
The officiant flinched at the loud bang, and the last few lines of the vow faded into a barely. audible whisper.
But at the exact moment the doors were thrown open, Eleanor’s voice rang out through the microphone, clear and bold.
“I don’t, because… there’s someone else I’d rather marry.”
Her words echoed through the hall like a dropped match in a room full of fireworks, igniting an uproar of gasps and chaos.
While Aaron stared, utterly stunned, Eleanor tossed aside her bouquet and kicked off her heels. Lifting the hem of her dress, she took off running–barefoot, fearless–straight toward the man who had promised to crash the wedding
Leon had been waiting for this moment. As the rose petals swirled in the air and every eye in the room was directed at them–including the furious glare of the man he despised–he swept his bride–to–be into his arms. Then, they made their escape.
The piano melody of “Here Comes the Bride” still played on loop in the hall–but the bride. was long gone. After a stunned silence, the room erupted, voices exploding in chaos.
Aaron stood frozen, only snapping out of it once Eleanor vanished from sight. Rage, fanned by the uproar,
burned through him, devouring every shred of his self–control. He clenched the ring in his fist and bolted after her like a madman.
Confused guests rushed behind him, spilling down the grand staircase just in time to see a sleek black–and–gold convertible speed away.
Eleanor’s gown fluttered like a butterfly’s wings, wild and free in the wind. She yanked off her floral crown and hurled it into the crowd, her laughter ringing over the wind. “Aaron, you should marry your baby mama instead–I’m out!”
His face drained of color, eyes wide with panic. He lunged, fingers grasping at air, only catching the falling floral crown.
Aaron’s mother, Susan Lerman, and Patrick stormed over, grabbing his collar. “What does she mean by ‘baby mama‘? You have a child?”
In a shadowy corner, a woman in a t–shirt and jeans paled before collapsing. Screams ricocheted through the hotel.
If standing onstage at a sold–out theater had been Eleanor’s proudest moment, then ditching her own wedding in front of everyone was her wildest. She was a survivor breaking free, riding into the spring sunlight, cheering as the world blurred past.
Leon held her hand tightly, his usual carefree grin replaced by something tender. The
Chapters
convertible wave through downtown traffic, the ducked into narrow alleyways.
When Leon noticed the low–hanging branches ahead, he quickly pulled Eleanor into liis arms, shielding her from being scratched.
Eleanor was still glowing with post–runaway glee. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed breathlessly. “Thanks.”
His lips brushed her car as he replied with a smile “No problem.”
After winding through backstreets and crossing two bridges, the car screeched to a stop in a plaza. Ethan Cole, their getaway driver, spun around with a grin, hand outstretched.
“Mission accomplished, Mr. Whitman. Pay up.‘
Leon tossed him a set of keys, grabbed a pair of speakers from the passenger seat, and knelt to slide them onto Eleanor’s feet.
Seeing the ever–composed, precious son of the Whitman family personally attending to someone like a royal handmaid, Ethan let out a dramatic shriek. “Damn! The untouchable Leon Whitman, brought to his knees by love? If send this to our group chat, our friends will lose it!”
Leon chucked the shoebox at his head, laughing. Get lost, idiot.”
Ethan hopped out, jogging backward with a salute. “Fine, fine! Enjoy the honeymoon phase congrats, you two!”
The word “honeymoon” snapped Eleanor back to reality. She narrowed her eyes, stepping out of the car. “What ‘congrats‘? We’re not married yet.”
Leon laced his fingers with hers and pointed at a distant building. “Not yet.”
Her gaze followed his finger, landing on two words–City Hall.
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