Her best friend steals her wealthy fiancé. Not in secret, not in the shadows, but in the front pew of the church where she was supposed to walk down the aisle.
Vivien Hartford stood at the altar in a gown she had saved fourteen months to afford, roses trembling in her hands, watching the doors. But the doors did not open for her. They opened for someone else.
They opened for Camille Rhodes, her best friend of eleven years. The same woman who had once driven four hours through a raging snowstorm just to sit beside Vivien at her mother’s funeral, hold her hand, and whisper, “I will never let anything happen to you.”
And now Camille was walking in on the arm of Derek Weston, Vivien’s wealthy fiancé, his tailored suit still carrying the cologne Vivien had given him for Christmas.
But what no one in that church knew, what Vivien herself did not know, was that this betrayal was not an accident.
Leave a Comment