Chapter 2 RUN

Arabella ran.

No one had ever meant for a wedding dress to be used like this.

The long ivory train dragged across the marble floor, snagged on corners, swept through massive flower arrangements. Every few steps it tried to trip her up, but she kept moving. She couldn't stop now.

Behind her, chaos exploded.

"Find her!"

"Check the east wing!"

"She couldn't have gotten far!"

Security guards spilled into the hallways, their footsteps closing in.

Arabella hiked her skirt higher and pushed herself faster.

Her heart pounded so loud she could hear it in her ears.

She didn't have a plan.

Or a destination.

No cash, nothing in her pockets, not even a clue what she'd do if she made it out.

All she knew? She had to go. Right now.

She reached a service corridor and shoved a heavy door open.

Cold air crashed over her face.

For a second, she just stood there, breathless.

The Laurent estate stretched out in front of her. Perfect gardens, stone fountains, trees that climbed toward the sky. Rows of polished cars. At the edge, those massive iron gates always guarded, day and night.

This had been home.

It was where she'd grown up.

And now, she'd just left it behind.

A flashlight beam sliced across the garden.

She ducked behind a stone pillar.

Two security guards rushed past.

"She went this way!"

Arabella held her breath, listening.

Once their footsteps faded, she ran again.

Her heels betrayed her. Impossible to keep going.

She kicked them off, didn't look back.

Now barefoot, she sprinted across the wet grass-her wedding dress picking up mud and dew. A branch scratched her arm. She barely felt it.

At the edge of the property, a small staff entrance and a narrow service road waited.

And right next to the old stone wall-a black Mercedes.

Her father's spare.

She knew it instantly.

Keys still there.

For the first time since ditching her bridal suite, hope flickered.

She sprinted for it.

Footsteps, closing in behind her.

"Miss Laurent!"

She didn't look back.

She yanked open the door-unlocked.

She threw herself inside.

The engine roared.

A security vehicle skidded between the trees.

"Stop!"

She slammed the door and floored the accelerator.

The Mercedes lunged forward.

A guard jumped out of the way as she shot down the service road.

Arabella gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles turned white.

Her veil whipped out the window.

Let it go. She couldn't care less.

She saw the main gates sliding shut.

"No."

She pressed the gas harder.

The gap shrank fast.

She didn't stop.

The Mercedes squeezed through just as the iron gates slammed behind her.

Only then, when the estate vanished in her rearview mirror, did she let up.

She kept driving until the chaos was just a shadow, then realized her vision was blurry. She'd been crying.

She wiped her face.

"Keep driving," she whispered. Her voice trembled.

"Just keep driving."

Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen.

Dad.

She let it ring.

It stopped. Rang again: Dad.

She ignored it.

Another call-Victor.

She hit reject.

Another: Dad.

She flipped the phone face down.

The road ahead stretched on and on.

Arabella didn't know where she was headed. The wedding dress felt like a joke now. The diamonds in her ears-evidence. The engagement ring was gone, but the necklace her mother had given her was still there, heavy around her throat.

She ran her fingers over it, then yanked it off.

She stared at the diamonds-one last piece of the life she'd just thrown away.

She rolled down the window and tossed the necklace into the night.

Then the earrings.

The bracelet too.

One after another, she got rid of every bit of jewelry that marked her as a Laurent.

Would it help? She didn't know.

She just knew she couldn't afford to be Arabella Laurent anymore.

The phone rang again.

This time, she picked it up.

Twenty-three missed calls.

Her father's name took over the screen.

A new message flashed.

COME BACK NOW.

Then another.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING.

And another.

WE CAN FIX THIS.

Arabella stared at her father's words.

For a raw, dangerous moment, she wanted to turn around.

She wanted her father to say it was all a mistake.

She wanted Victor to claim he'd lied.

She wanted to walk back inside, peel off the gown, curl up in her old bed, and wake tomorrow like none of this ever happened.

Then she remembered Victor's face.

There hadn't been denial. No shock. Just a look.

Recognition.

He'd known.

Her father had known.

The whole wedding had been a lie.

She locked the phone, slid out the SIM card, and snapped it in half.

The silence was almost peaceful.

She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

"No more."

An hour went by. The city lights faded behind her. The roads got darker and emptier.

Eventually, she pulled into a tiny roadside station. She needed gas-and a moment to breathe.

She stepped out. The attendant just stared, eyes running from her bare feet, up the ruined dress, to her face.

She probably looked wild.

"Fuel, please," she said.

The man nodded, slow.

She dug in her purse.

Nothing.

No cash-she'd run out empty-handed.

Her card would have to do.

She fished out her black Laurent card.

The attendant filled the tank. "That'll be-"

She handed him the card.

He swiped it.

The screen flashed: DECLINED.

She frowned. "Try again."

He did.

DECLINED.

A cold chill worked its way down her spine. "Use another one?"

He tried.

DECLINED.

She snatched it back.

"That's impossible," she muttered.

Her phone sat in the car.

She climbed in, switched it on.

Notifications poured onto the screen.

Bank alerts. Security warnings. Account messages.

She opened the first.

ACCOUNT TEMPORARILY SUSPENDED.

Her breath caught.

Next: CREDIT FACILITIES FROZEN.

Another: ALL PRIMARY ACCOUNTS PLACED UNDER ADMINISTRATIVE REVIEW.

Her chest tightened.

Her father hadn't waited for her to come home.

He'd frozen everything.

She opened her banking app.

Password rejected.

Tried again. Denied.

Her hands shook.

She called the bank.

"Welcome to Laurent Private Banking." Cold, automated voice.

She typed her ID.

Rejected.

Again, nothing.

She ended the call.

She sat there, numb, the glow of the station lights harsh and unforgiving.

A truck rumbled by out on the road.

The attendant eyed her through the window.

She looked down.

Wedding dress, no shoes.

No jewelry.

No working phone.

No money.

No family to call.

All her life, she'd believed money meant freedom.

Tonight, she'd learned the opposite.

Her father could erase billions with a phone call.

He just had.

The phone buzzed.

This time, it wasn't her father.

Victor.

She answered but said nothing.

He waited. Then: "Where are you?"

She gripped the phone.

"Goodbye, Victor."

"Arabella, wait-listen to me."

"No."

"You don't understand what you've done."

She gave a bitter laugh.

"I understand perfectly."

"You can't survive like this."

Silence. He knew he'd hit a nerve.

He sighed.

"Come home."

She looked through the windshield into blackness.

Home didn't mean anything now.

"I'd rather sleep on the street."

"Don't be dramatic."

She shook her head.

"I'm not." Her voice was steady now. "I'm done."

His tone changed, quick and cold. "Your father's frozen your accounts."

She closed her eyes.

Of course he knew.

"You're going to come back. You don't have a choice."

She opened her eyes.

Something small and fierce rose up inside her.

Defiance.

"You're wrong, Victor."

A beat of silence. "What?"

"I don't need to be rich to leave you."

She hung up.

Quiet, thick and final.

She looked at the road, then at her torn wedding dress, then the Mercedes.

No money.

No name except the one she just ruined.

No clue where she'd sleep.

But one thing they hadn't stolen-her choice.

She turned the key.

The Mercedes rolled out, engine rumbling.

In the mirror, the station-and the staring attendant-faded into darkness.

She didn't know what waited for her out there. She didn't have a plan, or a safety net, or even a destination.

And somewhere behind her, the Laurent family was already hunting the missing heiress.

Arabella pressed harder on the gas.

She didn't know that by sunrise, every major news outlet would have her name.

She didn't know Victor was already spinning her story to the world.

But tonight? Tonight was simple.

Disappear.

And make sure they never found her.