""He Left Me on Our Wedding Dance Floor for His Crying Best Friend—When the Song Ended, I Was on a Flight to Paris With His House Deeds and His Boss"

Three weeks later, the midtown office of Adams & Vance Partners was quiet.

Blake sat at his desk in a dimly lit corner office on the twenty-second floor. His eyes were sunken, surrounded by dark purple rings, and his tailored suit hung loosely off his frame; he had lost twelve pounds in twenty-one days.

He was no longer a junior partner. The executive committee had stripped him of his title, reassigned his high-net-worth clients, and demoted him to a standard account manager working on a straight commission basis. Nobody in the office looked him in the eye anymore. When he walked into the breakroom, conversations instantly died. The rumor mill on Wall Street had turned the story of the ""Runaway Bride and the Dancing Groom"" into an industry joke.

The door to his office suddenly swung open without a knock.

Riley Parker stepped inside, carrying a bright yellow ceramic casserole dish wrapped in a floral kitchen towel. She was wearing an oversized beige cardigan and had her hair pulled back into a casual ponytail.

""Surprise!"" she said, offering a bright, cheerful smile that looked painfully out of place in the sterile corporate office. ""I know you haven't been answering my calls, but Hector at your old building told me you were staying at that terrible extended-stay motel near the Lincoln Tunnel. So I made your favorite—baked ziti with extra mozzarella. Just like we used to eat in college!""

Blake looked at the casserole dish. He looked at Riley’s smiling face.

A cold, suffocating rage, which had been simmering in his chest for three weeks, finally began to boil over.

""How did you get past building security downstairs, Riley?"" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Riley set the casserole dish on his mahogany desk, pushing aside an open folder of audit reports. ""Oh, I told the guard I was your fiancée. He was so sweet, he just gave me a visitor badge!""

""My fiancée?"" Blake stood up slowly. ""Are you out of your mind?""

Riley’s smile wavered, but she quickly smoothed her expression, adopting that familiar, wounded look that had always worked on him in the past. ""Blake, don't be cruel. We’ve always been practically engaged in everything but name. Everyone knew it! Kira was just... a distraction. A phase you were going through because she had money and status. But now that she’s showed her true colors and abandoned you, we can finally be together! We don't have to hide anymore!""

Blake stared at her. ""Hide? What were we hiding, Riley?""

""Our love!"" she cried, taking a step toward him with her hands outstretched. ""Blake, I've loved you since we were fifteen! I was just scared of losing our friendship! That's why I asked you to dance at the wedding. I knew if you danced with me, if you held me in front of all those people, you would realize that I was the one you were meant to marry. And you did! You chose me!""

""I didn't choose you,"" Blake snarled, slamming both palms down on the desk so hard that the yellow casserole dish rattled. ""I was an arrogant, self-absorbed idiot who thought I could have everything. I didn't love you, Riley. I loved how you made me feel. You were a broken stray that made me feel like a savior every time I threw you a scrap of attention!""

Riley recoiled as if she had been struck with a whip. Tears immediately filled her eyes, cascading down her cheeks in perfect, practiced streams. ""Blake... how can you say that to me? After everything we’ve been through? After my parents died—""

""Stop talking about your parents!"" Blake roared. ""Your parents died twelve years ago, Riley! Twelve years! And you have used their memory as an emotional coupon to cash in whenever you wanted someone to pay your bills, move your furniture, or ruin my relationships! Did you ever once—just once—ask me how I was doing? Did you ever ask how Kira was doing?""

""She hated me!"" Riley sobbed.

""She didn't hate you,"" Blake said, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. ""She didn't care about you at all. She saw right through you. She saw that you were a bottomless pit of need that would suck the life out of anyone foolish enough to reach in. And I was the fool.""

Blake reached out, picked up the hot casserole dish by the towel, and dumped it directly into the heavy metal trash can beside his desk. It hit the bottom with a sickening, wet thud.

""Get out of my office,"" Blake said, pointing toward the door.

""Blake, please—""

""If you ever contact me again,"" Blake said, his eyes burning with absolute, uncompromising hatred, ""if you ever come to my office, my motel, or call my mother, I will file a restraining order that will follow you for the rest of your pathetic life. Get out.""

Riley stood frozen for three seconds, realizing for the first time that her tears had completely lost their power. The spell was broken. The knight had laid down his sword, and all that was left was the ruin of his kingdom.