Disgraced Heir Returns

4: ALTAR OF SHAME

The church was magnificent.

Stained glass windows cast colorful patterns across the marble floor. Fresh flowers lined every pew. Thousands of white roses, imported from halfway across the world. Candles flickered in golden holders. A live orchestra played soft classical music.

It was everything Aurora had wanted. Grand. Extravagant. The event of the year.

Damian stood at the altar, his new navy suit feeling like armor. The fabric was expensive. The cut was perfect. But underneath it all, he felt naked. Exposed.

His hands were sweating again. He wiped them against his trousers. Tried to steady his breathing.

You've got this. You've got this.

But he didn't have this. He had nothing.

The church was packed. Hundreds of guests. The elite of the city. Business magnates. Socialites. Politicians. They all stared at him. Whispered behind their hands. Their eyes were full of judgment.

Look at him. Standing there like he didn't ruin everything.

Damian forced a smile. Kept his chin up. Played the part of the unbothered groom.

But inside, he was crumbling.

He glanced at the front row. Aurora's parents' seats were empty. His heart rate spiked.

Where are they?

He searched the crowd. Nothing. Just strangers. Just enemies.

His palms were slick with sweat. His throat was dry.

Please. Please let them show up.

Minutes passed. Then more minutes. The whispers grew louder.

"Is he being stood up?"

"I heard she left him."

"Can you blame her? He's a criminal."

Damian stared straight ahead. He refused to look at them. Refused to give them the satisfaction.

Finally, the doors at the back of the church opened. Aurora's mother walked in. Alone.

Damian exhaled. A tiny sense of relief.

At least she's here. At least someone from her family came.

But where was her father? Where was Aurora?

The mother took her seat. Her face was a mask. She didn't smile at him. Didn't acknowledge him.

Damian's relief faded.

Something's wrong. Something's very wrong.

---

Hours passed.

The orchestra played on. The candles burned low. Guests began to check their watches. Some stood up. Walked out.

Damian stood at the altar, his legs aching. His back was stiff. His smile was long gone.

He pulled out his phone. Dialed Aurora.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

No answer.

He tried again. Nothing.

He tried a third time. Still nothing.

His heart was pounding. His hands were shaking. But he forced himself to stay calm. To keep his composure.

"Sir," Greg whispered from the side. He had been standing there the whole time. Loyal. Faithful. "Maybe you should sit down. Take a break."

Damian shook his head. "I can't. If I sit, I won't be able to stand back up."

Greg's face was full of worry. "Sir, people are leaving. I don't think she's coming."

Damian ignored him. He dialed Aurora again.

Straight to voicemail.

*This isn't happening. This can't be happening.*

He turned to the congregation. Forced another smile. His voice was strained.

"Please, everyone. Bear with me. I'm sure there's a good reason for the delay. My bride will be here shortly."

Some people nodded. Most just stared. Judgment in their eyes. Pity. Disgust.

*Fools. All of them.*

He stepped away from the altar. Leaned in to Greg.

"I'm going to find her," he said quietly. "Hold things down here. I'll be back soon."

Greg nodded. "Yes, sir."

Damian walked toward the side exit. He needed air. Needed space. Needed to figure out what the hell was happening.

---

He was halfway down the hallway when he bumped into someone.

A woman. Young. Dark hair. Familiar eyes.

Aurora's sister.

Damian blinked. "Sarah? What are you doing here? Where's Aurora?"

Sarah gave him a once-over. Her expression was blank. Cold. Almost bored.

"Aurora left the country this morning," she said flatly.

Damian's world tilted. "What?"

"Early morning flight. She didn't tell anyone. Just packed her bags and left."

"But... the wedding. Our wedding. She's supposed to be..."

Sarah shook her head. "She said she couldn't do it. Couldn't believe you still wanted to go ahead with the wedding despite not having any proof that you're innocent."

Damian's mouth opened. No words came out.

He wanted to tell her everything. About the digital trail. The signature. The proof he had found. About the remote access. The fact that he was close. So close.

He wanted to say: *Tell her to come back. Tell her I'm going to clear my name. Tell her I'm not the criminal everyone thinks I am.*

But the words wouldn't come. They were trapped in his throat. Choking him.

Sarah gave him one last look. She was already turning away.

"Goodbye, Damian."

She walked off. Her heels clicked against the marble floor. The sound was like a countdown. A timer. The final seconds of his life as he knew it.

Damian pulled out his phone. Dialed Aurora again.

Straight to voicemail.

He dialed again. Nothing.

Again. Nothing.

Please. Please pick up. Please.

But she didn't. She was gone.

---

Damian made it to the bathroom on shaky legs.

He locked the door behind him. Leaned against the sink. His reflection stared back at him. Pale. Hollow. Broken.

His breath came out in rasping gasps. He couldn't seem to get enough air. His chest was tight. His vision was blurry.

She left me. She actually left me.

He gripped the sink. His knuckles went white.

Everyone left me. Everyone abandoned me.

He stayed there for a long time. Minutes. Hours. He didn't know. Time had lost all meaning.

Finally, he pushed himself upright. Splashed water on his face. Stared at his reflection again.

You can't fall apart now. You can't. Not here. Not in front of all of them.

He straightened his tie. Smoothed his hair. Steeled his expression.

You will walk back in there. You will face them. You will not give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

He didn't feel any confidence. Any strength. But he walked anyway.

---

The church was almost empty when he returned.

A few guests remained. The most loyal. The most curious. They stared at him as he walked back to the altar.

Damian stood there. Alone. His hands were steady. His face was a mask.

Just at that moment, his phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen. A message from Greg.

"Sir, I've been able to pin where the remote access came from. It's from Hartwell Enterprise. Victor Hartwell's company. Your business rival."

Damian froze.

Victor Hartwell.

The name hit him like a punch to the chest. Victor was his biggest rival. The man who had always been one step behind. The man who had always wanted what Damian had.

Victor did this. Victor planted the evidence. Victor destroyed everything.

His hands started shaking again.

He looked up from his phone. His eyes scanned the room.

And then he saw her.

Serena Hartwell.

Victor's daughter.

She was standing in the back of the church. Her dress was simple. White. Innocent. Her hair was dark and flowing. Her eyes were wide. Almost naïve.

She looked perfect. Like a painting. Like something out of a dream.

The daughter of my enemy. The girl who benefited from my destruction.

Damian stared at her. She was watching him. Their eyes met.

She knows. She has to know. Her father did this to me. And she's here. Watching. Enjoying my suffering.

He wanted to hate her. Wanted to burn her with his glare. Wanted to make her feel every ounce of pain he was feeling.

But something stopped him.

She didn't look smug. Didn't look triumphant. She looked... sad. Almost apologetic.

Like she was sorry for what had happened to him.

*Impossible. She's a Hartwell. They're all the same. All of them.*

But he couldn't look away. Couldn't stop staring at her.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, a dark thought formed.

You want to destroy me? Fine. I'll destroy you first.

I'll take everything you love. Just like you took everything from me.

He turned away from Serena. Walked toward the exit. His footsteps echoed in the empty church.

The wedding was over. His relationship was over. His life as he knew it was over.

But something else was just beginning.