My Fiancé's Second Wedding - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Jonah didn't hesitate for a second. He yanked out his phone, barked orders at his assistant to send someone to babysit me—like I was some kind of loose cannon—then checked his watch and bolted for City Hall with Nadia in tow.
As the elevator doors hissed shut, I caught it—the smug little glint in Nadia's eyes. That barely-there eyebrow lift, the ghost of a smirk. A silent gotcha.
Then, just before the doors sealed, Jonah's voice slipped through:
"Nadia, did you bring your ID?"
So much for her mother's emergency. This whole charade was for me.
I didn't wait around for Jonah's hired muscle to show up. Grabbing my keys, I dipped out. I had bigger things to deal with.
The bridal shop was eerily quiet when I walked in. The usual comforting scent of fresh flowers and delicate fabric hung in the air, but something was… off. The owner, normally all smiles, stiffened when he saw me.
"Miss Arabelle… you're here?"
I nodded. "Came for my dress."
His face twisted like he'd bitten into something sour. "Ah… Mr. Jonah picked it up a few days ago."
Ice shot down my spine. "What?"
"He, uh… brought someone to try it on," he added, voice dropping to a whisper. "I wasn't here, but…"
My expression must've gone nuclear because he scrambled to his computer. "Let me pull up the footage."
There she was—Nadia, draped in my wedding dress, the ivory silk clinging to her like it was made for her. She took slow, deliberate steps toward Jonah, who stood there staring at her like she'd just stepped out of a damn fantasy.
"Jonah, do I look good?"
His lips parted. Then—smile.
"You're beautiful," he breathed. "Even better than I imagined."
Nadia bit her lip, eyes glistening. "Pinch me. I need to know this is real. All this time, I've only dreamed of us like this…"
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Jonah, looking like some lovesick hero, leaned in and kissed it away.
"Silly girl," he murmured. "Good thing you showed up. I might've married someone else."
The owner beside me looked like he wanted to vanish into the floor. "Miss Arabelle, I—this was a mistake. I'll get the dress back for you."
I exhaled slowly. No mistake.
Everyone could see it now—I'd been played. Cheated on. And my wedding dress? Stolen right out from under me.
Fuming, the owner dialed Jonah.
The call barely rang before Jonah's sharp voice cut in: "If Arabelle sent you, tell her she'll get the dress back when we're done with it. No one's stealing from her!"
Unbelievable. The audacity.
I didn't want him anymore. Why would I want a dress Nadia had already worn?
The owner, clutching the now-dead phone, looked mortified. "Miss Arabelle, I can compensate you—"
But I wasn't here for a refund. I knew exactly who owed me.
Without missing a beat, I fired off a screenshot of the original dress order—price tag front and center.
Less than a minute later, my phone rang.
Jonah's voice dripped annoyance. "Seriously, Arabelle? You're charging me for borrowing the dress? Shouldn't you be happy it's getting use?"
I almost laughed.
Then Nadia's voice purred in the background—"Jonah, I want to keep it as a keepsake…"—and the line went dead.
A second later, my screen lit up.
[Bank Transfer Received]
Followed by Jonah's text: "When we get married, just rent a dress. No need to waste money."
I stared at the message. Six years. And for the first time, I realized I'd never known him at all.
My eyes flicked to our couple's app. His location still pinned him at City Hall.
I thought it'd hurt. But I felt nothing.
With a slow exhale, I killed the shared location.
Just then, Jonah's assistant, Zane, strode in with two bodyguards in tow. The guy who used to greet me like I hung the moon now looked at me like I was gum on his shoe. Polite, but ice-cold.
"Miss Arabelle, as long as you behave, we won't interfere with your movements."
A warning.
I didn't have time for fair-weather lackeys. Without a word, I drove straight to my office and quit.
But when I finally got home, life had one last surprise waiting.
The parking gate didn't lift. I rolled down my window as the guard frowned at his system.
"Sorry, Miss. Your spot's been reassigned to another car."