Chapter 122

The wedding ceremony commenced with all its grandeur.

After the traditional vows were exchanged, it was Vanessa's moment to shine with her cello performance.

A single spotlight illuminated her as she took her seat gracefully.

Vanessa positioned the cello between her knees, her fingers poised above the strings.

Ever since she had boldly promised Ethan she would perform at the wedding, she had practiced relentlessly, determined to prove herself.

Though she had formal training in music, and Evelyn had once played this very piece years ago, Vanessa had memorized the composition effortlessly.

Ethan stood at the altar, his gaze fixed on Vanessa, who was framed by cascading white roses.

Perhaps nerves got the better of her—the first note she struck was jarringly off-key.

Ethan's expression darkened instantly.

To her credit, Vanessa recovered swiftly, her fingers gliding over the strings with practiced ease. Yet, as the melody continued, Ethan's frown only deepened.

By the time she reached the crescendo, his attention had already drifted elsewhere.

Some guests might have been impressed by Vanessa's technical proficiency.

But something about the performance felt... wrong.

The notes flowed perfectly from Vanessa's cello, technically flawless. Yet Ethan Caldwell stood frozen by the window, his champagne flute forgotten.

Something vital was missing.

Technique meant nothing without soul. This was the same composition from years ago, yet the emotions it evoked now were hollow. The haunting melody that had once seeped into his bones during his coma was gone.

Could this truly be the same woman who played in the music room last winter? The dissonance between then and now was staggering. His fingers tightened around the glass.

Memories of the accident resurfaced - eighteen years old, trapped in darkness, with only the cello's lament pulling him back to consciousness. That raw, grieving sound bore no resemblance to Vanessa's polished performance today.

The final note faded. Polite applause rippled through the wedding guests. Vanessa rose with a practiced smile, oblivious to Ethan's scrutiny.

As she exited for the dressing room, Ethan found himself in the marble corridor. The engraved lighter flipped open in his palm with a metallic click. The flame trembled as he inhaled.

That melody from his coma... Had he imagined it? Or had there been another cellist all those years ago?

The lighter snapped shut. Somewhere in Kingsdom, a truth waited to be uncovered.

Something was off.

Ethan Caldwell's expression was a turbulent storm of conflicting emotions.

Nathan Reeves approached cautiously. "Mr. Caldwell?"

"Pull up the surveillance footage from Titan Capital Group," Ethan ordered, his voice clipped. "I need to know if anyone played the cello there."

Nathan hesitated. "For what time period?"

"A month ago," Ethan said sharply. "Around the time Evelyn first joined Titan Capital."

Nathan's brows knitted together. "Sir, you know Titan Capital's system only retains footage for thirty days. Anything older would have been automatically purged."

Ethan's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. The air around him turned icy.

Nathan immediately dropped his eyes, swallowing hard. Even after years of working for Ethan, he knew better than to challenge him when he was in this mood.

And today, of all days, Ethan was in a particularly foul state.

It made no sense.

This was supposed to be his wedding day.

Yet during the ceremony, Ethan had been distracted—his attention repeatedly drifting toward the entrance, as if expecting someone who never arrived.

The air between them turned icy.

"Find a way to restore it," Ethan demanded, his voice sharp. "It's just surveillance footage from a month ago. That shouldn't be impossible, right?"

Trevor approached, sensing the tension. His gaze flickered between Ethan and Nathan.

"What's going on?" he murmured, keeping his voice low.

Ethan took a slow drag from his cigarette, ignoring the question.

Nathan hesitated, then caught Trevor's subtle nod. Without another word, he slipped away.

Two nights ago, at the bachelor party, Evelyn had left early.

Ethan had drowned himself in alcohol afterward.

Trevor had been the one to take him home.

That night, in the dim silence of the car, Ethan had muttered a name—just once, barely audible.

"Evelyn..."

The memory lingered like smoke.

Trevor was utterly stunned. His breath caught in his throat.

Evelyn had chased after Ethan for years. How could she possibly cross his mind when he was drunk?

Trevor had known Ethan for over a decade, yet he had never seen him like this—raw, vulnerable, his usual composure shattered.

Moments ago, Trevor had accidentally overheard Ethan’s conversation with Nathan. The mention of surveillance footage had piqued his interest, especially since he suspected it involved Evelyn.

He hesitated, debating whether to speak up.

After a long silence, he chose his words carefully. "Ethan… do you still have feelings for Evelyn?"

It was the only explanation.

Evelyn had been impossible to ignore lately.

Using Alexander to provoke Ethan—it had clearly worked. If Trevor were in Ethan’s shoes, he wouldn’t have been able to brush her off either.

The way Ethan’s jaw clenched at the mention of her name said everything.

Trevor exhaled slowly. This wedding was going to be far more complicated than anyone had anticipated.

He had to give Evelyn credit—she was downright diabolical.

Ethan crushed the cigarette beneath his heel, the embers dying instantly.

Without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the hotel, his expression thunderous.

Trevor scrambled after him. "Ethan! What the hell are you doing? You can't just bail like this! The reception isn't over, and half the guests are still here!"

True, the guest list had been small, but that didn’t make this any less of a scandal.

He was the groom, for God’s sake.

When Vanessa emerged from changing into her second gown, she was met with whispers and sideways glances. The moment she realized Ethan was gone, her smile turned brittle, forced.

She had no choice but to play the gracious bride alone, circulating through the crowd with practiced charm.

Her calls went straight to voicemail.

As murmurs grew louder, she lied through her teeth—He’s exhausted from the preparations. Resting in the lounge.

But when the last guest finally left, there was still no sign of him.

Now, the wedding suite stood empty.

Vanessa sat on the edge of the bed, still in her lace gown, staring at the storm clouds gathering outside the window.

Their wedding night.

And she was completely alone.

The sky split open with jagged streaks of lightning, casting eerie shadows across what should have been the most romantic venue. The once-elegant wedding hall now resembled something out of a gothic horror story.

Evelyn had personally overseen every detail of the design. As a professional, her vision had been flawless—until now.

Vanessa's fingers trembled as she dialed Ethan's number for what felt like the hundredth time. When he still didn’t answer, she finally gave up and called Trevor instead.

Trevor and Ethan had been inseparable since college. If anyone knew where he was, it would be him.

"Have you seen Ethan?" Vanessa demanded, her voice tight with barely restrained panic. "He never came back."

Trevor froze. Wait—Ethan never returned?

He remembered watching Ethan storm out of the reception at noon. He’d tried to follow, but the rain had been torrential, and Ethan’s car had vanished into the storm.

But Trevor wasn’t about to tell Vanessa that.

"We’re just celebrating," he lied smoothly. "It’s his wedding day—let the man enjoy himself. What’s the rush?"

Vanessa exhaled in relief. If Ethan was with Trevor, at least he was safe.

She forced a light laugh, careful to maintain her poised image in front of Ethan’s friends. "Fine, but don’t let him drink too much. I’ll be waiting."

The line went dead.

Trevor stared at his phone, unease coiling in his gut.

Because the truth was—he had no idea where Ethan had gone.

The call ended abruptly, leaving Trevor Moss with a deep furrow between his brows.

Rain lashed against the windows in relentless sheets, the storm raging with unnatural fury.

"Where the hell did Ethan go in this weather?" Trevor muttered, fingers tightening around his phone.

Darkness had swallowed the city whole, broken only by occasional flashes of lightning.

A cold dread crept up Trevor's spine.

"Something's wrong," he whispered to the empty room.

The wedding venue stood deserted now, its grand halls echoing with ghostly silence.

Trevor's mind raced through worst-case scenarios.

Ethan Caldwell wasn't the type to vanish without warning. Not tonight. Not like this.

Thunder growled overhead as Trevor grabbed his coat.

He had to find him. Now.

The storm outside mirrored the tempest in his chest.

Where are you, Ethan?