She''d already asked her father to have an honest conversation with Mr. Mercer-to set things straight, to tell the Mercers the truth.


    But instead of putting an end to all of this, he''d let it slide... And now he was pressing for them to sign the marriage license.


    If the parents weren''t going to put a stop to it, she figured she might as well be the one to upend everything herself.


    "This is absolutely out of line! Fleming already agreed! Why are you being so unreasonable?" her father snapped, his patience close to gone.


    All their careful arrangements, and their daughter suddenly wanted to back out?


    Mr. Mercer, catching up to the situation, hurriedly interjected, "Now, now, let''s not lose our tempers. I''m sure Esmeralda just had a falling-out with Fleming-after all these years, it''s nothing they haven''t weathered before. They''ll patch things up before you know it; there''s no need for us to meddle. It''s not worth worrying about."


    Esmeralda listened, feeling more alienated by the second.


    Everyone seemed convinced that because she and Fleming had grown up together, nothing could disrupt their bond.


    No one seemed to realize he was the one who had changed—not her.


    She refused to resign herself to a life she didn''t want.


    "I mean it," she said, her voice quiet but unwavering.


    Silence descended, heavier than before.


    Atst, her father''s expression hardened. "Nanny, take Esmeralda to her room—she needs to think about what she''s saying!"


    No one was really listening to her at all.


    It was as if her feelings didn''t matter, like the protests of a child who didn''t know what she wanted.


    Everyone around her was certain she couldn''t walk away from Fleming, so they simply dismissed her.


    The family nanny looked torn, but dutifully led Esmeralda upstairs. "Sweetheart, let''s just leave it for now, all right?"


    Esmeralda''s mother noticed her husband''s temper and knew any argument now would be pointless. With lips pressed tight, she took Esmeralda''s hand and followed them up the stairs.


    She knew what was at stake: at this point, no one cared about the bride and groom''s own wishes. This engagement was about the business, not the people involved. And she didn''t want her daughter to make herself a target by fighting back anymore.


    Esmeralda paused at thending, ncing back to see her father and Mr. Mercer already deep in conversation again, as though none of this had ever happened.


    She couldn''t believe it. There was a tightness in her chest, something close to suffocation.


    Fleming had meant to go straight to the Mercer estate.


    But halfway there, Lucy''s assistant called him—Lucy had been hit by a falling mannequin in her studio, and he had to swing by and check on her.


    When he arrived, Lucy shot her assistant a look of mild exasperation. “It was nothing. Why did you have to call Fleming?"


    Fleming''s gaze fell on the growing bruise swelling across Lucy''s forehead.


    "Do you want to get it checked at the hospital?" he asked.


    Lucy shook her head. "It''s fine, really. I''ll just use some ice."


    Fleming''s brows knitted in irritation. "Being stoic doesn''t help. If you''d learn to be a bit more like Esmeralda-making a fuss over every little bruise-you might not get hurt like this."


    Lucy''s eyes searched his face, a fleeting smile tugging at her lips. “You know her so well."


    Fleming stood and went to fetch some ice from the fridge.


    Of course, he knew Esmeralda—-he''d grown up with her.


    Watching his back, Lucy spoke softly, her words deliberate: "If you two had never


    been engaged... would you have been drawn to her-or to me?"


    She didn''t try to disguise her feelings. She''d always known that Fleming had an inkling about where her hearty.


    As she suspected, Fleming hesitated just a second too long, before turning to look at her.


    "That''s not the point. She''s about to be my wife. We shouldn''t ask questions that lead to misunderstandings."


    But Lucy could see it—even now, Fleming''s heart was tilted toward Esmeralda. Still, she pressed on.


    "Even if you know exactly what she''s like... bad habits and all-you''d choose her anyway?"


    That question yanked a distant memory from the past to the forefront of Fleming''s mind.


    A memory that had changed everything about how he rted to Esmeralda.


    It had been only a few months after Lucy and her mother had moved into the Mercer home.


    He and Esmeralda were away at a ski resort out in the mountains, a ce with far too many dangerous off-piste trails.


    Lucy hade to find them.


    But Esmeralda never told him Lucy was there.


    She''d tugged him away, pulling him down the mountain.


    And Lucy had gotten stranded on the icy slopes. She''d slipped into a snow-covered


    thicket, injured herself, and was stuck in the cold for five—maybe six-hours.


    It wasn''t until Lucy''s mother called his cell that Fleming even knew Lucy was around: By the time they found


    her Lucy was unconsciou hypothermic. She never walked the same way again; the fall had left her with a lingering limp.


    Lucy''s motherter revealed the


    whole story Lucy had tried to reach Esmeralda, but Esmeralda


    ????


    deliberately kept Fleming away, leaving Lucy behind in the snow. She''d almost died, and the ident


    left her with a limp that haunted her into adulthood. It made her hesitant, self-conscious, chronically insecure.


    Esmeralda had always been his fiancée. He owed it to her to make amends for her


    reckless choices.