Page 66 of Forever His Favorite
A strangled sound ripped from his throat, raw and broken. His eyes locked on the blazing golden letters, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. “What the—what the fuck is that?!” His voice cracked.
Beside him, Taylor’s face drained of color, his jaw slack in disbelief. “This… decoration isn’t for you.” His words stumbled, disjointed, his gaze darting from the glittering board to Lucas’s expression. “It’s for Sebastian and Emily’s wedding? What the hell is going on? Why would he marry Emily today? Wasn’t this supposed to be your proposal venue?”
Lucas’s shock curdled into something darker. Heat rushed through his veins like acid, his entire body trembling. His fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms. The velvet box in his pocket felt like a blade twisting in his gut.
“That bastard,” he spat, venom dripping from every word. His chest heaved, fury scorching his throat as his eyes blazed at the glowing sign. “He’s doing this on purpose. He wants to rip Emily away from me on the very day I was going to make her mine. He’s terrified I’ll win her back. That’s why he planned this. He wants to steal her from me!”
He spun toward Taylor, and snarled. “Find that bastard right now!”
A calm, cold voice answered from ahead. “You don’t have to look for me, Mr. Cantrell.”
Sebastian was already walking toward them, dressed in a crisp Italian white suit that molded perfectly to his broad shoulders and trim waist, a black silk tie in place, polished leather shoes gleaming, a diamond-studded watch on his wrist, gold cufflinks catching the light, and a silk pocket square tucked neatly in his jacket—every detail radiating wealth, power, and undeniable allure.
They met him halfway, stopping just inches apart.
Lucas glared at him, hatred burning in his eyes. His voice dripped venom as he spat, “So the mighty Graves family is so poor they have to steal a bride? And even hijack a venue prepared by someone else?”
Sebastian’s lips curved into a slow, cutting smirk. “You must be joking, Mr. Cantrell. I already have a wife. Why would I need to steal yours?” His tone sharpened with deliberate cruelty. “In fact, I don’t recall you ever having a bride.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened, the muscle twitching in fury.
Sebastian adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, his voice smooth and precise. “Besides, the Grand Palace Hall is my private property. What gave you the illusion you could call it yours? This place isn’t open to the public—certainly not for some pitiful proposal. And tonight’s event is private. So leave.” His gaze flicked over Lucas, sharp and mocking. “Unless, of course… you’d like to stay as an uninvited guest at my wedding dinner.”
Lucas’s face drained of color, disbelief and panic clashing in his features. His throat bobbed as he croaked out, “Today? Who—who is your bride? Who the hell is marrying you?” His voice cracked, the demand tangled with desperation.
Sebastian tilted his head toward the glowing golden board, his smirk widening. “Don’t you know how to read?”
Lucas went rigid. His eyes flicked to the blazing words, and his heart clenched so violently it felt like his chest had been split open. A crushing weight spread through him, suffocating, hollowing him out until he could barely stand.
And then, as if to drive the knife deeper, the grand entrance doors swung open once more.
Sebastian glanced toward the doors and watched as Emily walked in, radiant in a flowing white wedding dress. The flowing white gown hugged her waist, flaring gracefully at her hips, and trailing behind her in a soft, cascading train. The delicate lace on the bodice shimmered subtly, and the long, sheer sleeves added an ethereal elegance to her striking silhouette.
Her eyes flickered briefly toward Lucas, and Taylor—but then settled on Sebastian. She crossed the distance and came to stand firmly at his side.
“I am the bride,” she said. “Who else would I be?”
Lucas’s eyes widened. He stumbled back, horror etched across his face. “This—this can’t be real. You’re joking, right?”
Emily met him without flinching. “I’m already married to him, Lucas. You knew that.” Her face showed confusion more than cruelty. “Why is this a surprise to you?”
His lips trembled, his face draining of color. “No… no, this can’t be real. Don’t play with me, Emily. Don’t joke around. This isn’t funny.” His voice cracked, desperate. “Don’t scare me like this.”
“It isn’t a joke,” Emily replied, confusion shadowing her face. “Today, Sebastian and I are having our wedding ceremony.”
Lucas’s control snapped. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening. His voice tore through the hall, raw with panic and disbelief. “No! Today was supposed to beourday! I was going to propose to you, Emily. You were going to forgive me—we were going to get married!”
Emily’s eyes narrowed, cold and blank. Her words cut through him like a blade. “Forgive you? I would never forgive you, Lucas. Who even said I would? Let alone accept your proposal. I am already married to Sebastian!”
The world tilted beneath Lucas. His chest heaved, breaths shallow and jagged, as if the floor had dropped away under him. Sweat prickled at his temples; every nerve in his body screamed in disbelief. His eyes flicked between her and Sebastian.
Emily stepped closer, her words sharp. “You keep talking about love and proposals… but tell me, Lucas, when did you ever truly love me?”
“I do love you!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “Don’t you know? For five years, I’ve done everything I could to be with you!”
Emily’s lips curved slightly, but her gaze was cold as ice. “No,” she whispered, her voice low but cutting, “you only ever loved yourself.”
Her words grew stronger, each one hitting like a hammer. “You never knew anything about me. Do you even remember what myfavorite flowers are? The last time you came to me, you brought meAmelia’sfavorite flowers. I told you more times than I can count what mine were—but I was never important enough for you to remember.”
