My Sister Tried On My Wedding Dress to Stole My Fiancé While I Was Dying in ICU room

The cathedral was in absolute uproar.

Security guards, hired by Julian, were already moving down the aisles, politely but firmly escorting a screaming Sloane out of the building. My father had disowned her on the spot.

Derek sat on the altar floor, completely broken. He had tried to play a game of chess with a dying woman, and he had been checkmated by a king.

"Get him out of my sight," Julian ordered his security men.

They hauled Derek to his feet and dragged him down the aisle. He didn't even fight back. He was a ghost of a man.

I stood at the altar, my chest heaving. The adrenaline was fading, and the sharp pain in my spine was returning. I swayed slightly on my feet.

Instantly, Julian’s strong arms were around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.

"I've got you," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I looked up at him. The church was emptying out, leaving just the two of us standing in the wreckage of my old life.

"You did it," Julian said, his blue eyes filled with a terrifying, possessive pride. "You burned them to ash."

"We did it," I corrected him.

I looked down at the blue diamond on my finger. "So. We're legally married. The business transaction is complete. What happens now?"

Julian reached up, cupping my cheek. His thumb traced my jawline, sending shivers down my body.

"The contract said I got your money," Julian said softly. "But it didn't say what I wanted."

"What do you want?" I whispered.

"You," Julian answered, without a second of hesitation. "From the moment I saw you lying in that hospital bed, refusing to die, plotting your revenge in the dark... I knew you were the only woman in the world who could stand beside me."