The Wedding at His Lover's Castle Chapter 1

Three days before my wedding, I discovered Eric had changed our venue from my grandmother’s estate to a Spanish castle—Chloe’s favorite place.

I rushed to confront him but overheard him complaining:

“Thank God Chloe has taste. Otherwise, I’d be a laughingstock.”

His friend asked, “But you promised her grandmother’s place. Won’t she call it off?”

Eric scoffed: “Her family’s bankrupt. Marrying me is her only way out. She can’t afford to gamble.”

He smirked, “The planner already called her. She’s probably rebooking her flight right now.”

Anger and betrayal twisted inside me. I bit my lip and walked away.

Three days later, the castle wedding proceeded.

I didn’t rebook my flight. I didn’t show up.

Instead, in my grandmother’s garden, I exchanged rings with another man.

To this day, Eric doesn’t understand:

I didn’t marry him for a way out—but for a love that lasted ten years.

When the dream ended, I simply made another choice.

* * *

Not long after I left the Levine Corporation building, Eric sent me the address of the Spanish castle along with a photo.

It was a stunning shot of the castle’s facade—ivory limestone walls, a gilded dome, the very picture of opulence.

But front and center in the photo, a striking figure in a flowing red dress with a cascade of auburn curls, was Chloe.

My finger hovered over her beaming face for a moment, and a wave of absurdity washed over me.

I was the bride. This was supposed to be our wedding venue.

Yet the star of the photo he sent was his childhood friend, the one he always insisted was “just a friend, don’t overthink it.”

After that, silence.

I knew Eric. He figured the wedding planner had already broken the news, so he was just nudging things along, sending the address so I wouldn’t book a flight to the wrong country.

A stone had settled in my stomach. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

He had promised me we’d have the ceremony at my grandmother’s estate. Why would he change everything, without a second thought, just because Chloe liked a castle?

It was dark by the time I got home. As I approached the door, I heard Eric snapping at the housekeeper.

“Ava isn’t a toddler. Does she really expect me to worry if she’s a little late?”

“But sir,” the housekeeper said nervously, “Ms. Quinn left right after the call from the wedding planner this morning. I was worried she might…”

Eric laughed, a harsh, cutting sound.

“She left to sort out her visa and change her flights. Getting the entire Quinn clan rerouted isn’t a simple task.”

He sounded so sure of himself. “Don’t worry. Ava has been dreaming of marrying me for years. She’d be lost without me. I could move the venue to Antarctica and she’d crawl her way there, let alone to a castle hand-picked by Chloe.”

The housekeeper fell silent, but Eric kept muttering to himself.

“Chloe hasn’t texted back in five minutes… I should go check on her.”

He hurried out of the house just as I was slipping away. It was the Levine family villa, after all. Not my home.

He’d asked me to move in to make wedding preparations easier. At first, it was perfect. We were honey-sweet, just like any other engaged couple.

Then Chloe came home, nursing a broken heart, and Eric announced he had to go comfort her.

That “comforting” had now stretched into four months.

Anytime Chloe felt down, he would drop everything—drop me—and run to her side.

I chose the wedding dress alone. I designed the layout for the ceremony in my grandmother’s garden alone. He had no part in it.

Whenever I dared to complain, he’d look up from his phone, his face a mask of irritation from being interrupted while texting her.

“You only want to marry me to save your family’s business, right?” he’d say. “I’ve already agreed to that. What more do you want?”

Then his phone would ring—Chloe, of course—and he’d walk out, a smile already on his face, leaving my words to vanish into the air.

“You were the one who proposed to me,” I’d whisper to the empty room. “I said yes because I loved you…”

In that moment, I went from a woman giddy with the joy of her upcoming wedding to a lonely spectator in my own life.

And now, even the choice of where I would get married had nothing to do with me.

I spent that night at a friend’s place. Eric never once tried to contact me.

The next day, after finishing the handover at my job, I walked into the villa to the sound of Chloe’s cheerful laughter.

“During the vows, you have to have flower petals floating down from both sides,” she was saying, her eyes sparkling. “It’s so much more romantic that way.”

Eric sat beside her, his gaze soft and full of adoration, following her every move. “Whatever you want.”

It was a look of devotion he had never given me.

When she saw me, Chloe waved me over. “Ava, you’re here! I have the most amazing idea for the wedding!”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric frown at me. “Where have you been? Chloe’s been working on this wedding for four months, and you’ve barely lifted a finger.”

He didn’t stop there. “It’s for the best, I guess. Chloe’s taste is far better than yours. That rustic theme you came up with was so embarrassing. I almost became a joke in my circle.”

That feeling of being an outsider washed over me again, cold and sharp.

“I’m tired,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m going to rest.”

Ignoring the deep furrow in Eric’s brow, I walked straight to the guest room.

As I closed the door, a message popped up on my phone, one I had ignored many times before.

“Just say the word, and I’ll crash that wedding, even if it costs me everything.”

From outside the door, I could hear Chloe describing her dream of a flower-filled castle wedding, punctuated by Eric’s endless, patient refrains of “Whatever you want.”

I gave a bitter smile and typed a reply.

“You don’t have to crash it. You’ll be the groom.”

Eric, if you were destined for a castle, then I would go south, back home.

I would set you free. And in doing so, I would finally set myself free.