Chapter Photo credits:

@Mizina Depositphotos.com

Tate Kane woke and sat up right away. A slow smile crossed her face as her eyes caught the long cloth garment bag hanging across her hotel room. It was her wedding day. She had been imagining herself in her gown for months.

She reached up and touched the jewel encrusted cross around her neck which had given her a second chance at love. The family lore said the cross would bring true love, but her journey to love hadn't followed the path of ancient lore.

Duncan Dawson had captured her heart unexpectedly. Never had she dated a man so agreeable and willing to please her. She looked at the clock. In four hours, she would look like a princess in her designer dress. All eyes would be on her and her father as they walked down the aisle. Everything would be perfect. Even mother nature was joining in by adding snow flurries for effect.

As a Kane, she deserved perfection. A knock on her door took her out of her fairytale. Slipping on a robe, she opened the door for the room service tray. Every wedding guest received breakfast, including the bride. She poured coffee, but could never eat the food laid out in front of her. Perhaps some fruit. She didn't want to faint or appear tipsy after a little champagne with her wedding party.

She had just finished her coffee when there was another rap on her door. Her sister, Doyle, breezed in humming 'Here Comes The Bride'.

"You aren't hungover?"

Doyle pouted. "The narc Jimmy ruined my fun."

"I'm just glad he brought Ivy with him."

"I like her better than your other friends."

Tate agreed, but wouldn't admit it. Her friends grew up wealthy like her and understood her responsibilities to her family and Kane Properties. Her family owned one of the largest commercial property companies in the country. It was also the oldest going back to before the Revolutionary War. Tradition and Kane meant one and the same.

Her younger siblings, the twins, didn't understand the importance. Their approach to life was to seek as much attention as possible. Only her older brother, Baxter understood the importance of being a Kane. He was even more serious about it than Tate. She frowned because her big brother hid it, but he didn't like Duncan.

"No frowning. It's your wedding day. Are you ready for the same cock the rest of your life?"

"Doyle! Stop being crude! Maybe if you tried making love instead of just having sex, you would understand."

"Sex is fun. No thanks to snoozing love making."

Tate rolled her eyes. Sex wasn't supposed to be like porn. Disclaimer: Tate Kane had never watched porn. Marriage was so much more than sex. It was building a life together. Supporting each other. Tate would encourage Duncan to pursue his love for competition and reality TV. He was also making a name for himself as an influencer. In so many ways, he was just like her brother, Kasper.

Doyle laughed. "You have that dopey look. You're thinking of him."

"So what? I love him. I'm getting married today."

Doyle laughed. "Did you eat? Hair and makeup will be here soon."

"It's still early."

Doyle bit her lip. "Have you heard from Duncan today?"

"No." She stared at her sister. "Did he drink too much last night?"

Doyle frowned. "They all did."

"Not me." She pulled her shoulders back.

Once the professionals arrived, time sped up. The bridal suite felt like Grand Central Station. Her mother clapped her hands. "Everyone out. Let's give our bride some space."

"Doyle, stay with your sister. I need to check to make sure your father tied his tie right. Have you heard from Kasper today?"

"He sent me a selfie. He's dressed."

"The photographer will be here in thirty minutes. Have your dress on in time."

With the sisters left alone, Doyle sighed. "You would think she would stick around to cry when you put on your dress."

Tate stopped herself from biting her perfectly painted lip. Her mother didn't approve of her choice. She never forbade her from marrying Duncan, but didn't hide her opinion either.

The photographer was late. Tate paced back and forth in her designer dress. The velvet bodice and full satin skirt made her feel like a snow princess. Doyle looked at her watch. "I'm going to get my camera. I'll take better photographs than the flunky that the hotel recommended."

Doyle was a talented photographer, but her favorite subjects were rock bands. Afraid to wrinkle her gown, Tate stood and waited. "Finally!" A loud knock eased her tension.

She pulled open the door and froze. Duncan looked at her. "You're not supposed to see my dress and why aren't you dressed?"

He pushed his way in and shut the door. "I can't go through with it. I just don't love you enough."

Tate felt the air escape from her lungs like a flat tire. She shut her eyes and counted to three and breathed. When she opened them, Duncan was still there.

"Is this because your parents want us to live here in Vail?"

"It has nothing to do with my parents. When I met you I was on the rebound, but now I'm not."

"Because you love me. You proposed. We planned our wedding."

He shook his head. "You planned our wedding."

"And I agreed to have it in Vail to please your mother." She sounded like a five-year-old, but Tate didn't like his mother.

"You don't need to worry about my mother or your mother who hates me. She didn't hide it. I'm not marrying you."

"Why?" She cried.

"Because I love Lydia. I saw her last night and realized I love her."

"Love her! She dumped you on national television. She walked away leaving you to finish on your own."

"And I won. The entire prize for myself. No one had ever done it before. They let it happen because it was a boost for ratings."

"She humiliated you and you love her?"

"I'm sorry, but she reminded me last night how great sex can be. We never had the same chemistry."

"You slept with her! Get away from me." She pushed him out the door. Then she pulled off her dress and threw it in the corner.

When Doyle opened the door, Tate was curled up staring at the wall. "Tate, what the fuck? That fucker, I'm going to rip his balls off with my bare hands."

"Don't. Ever. Mention. Him. Again."

"What should I do?"

"Go tell Baxter. He'll take care of everything." She gripped the cursed cross in her hand. "Give this to him. I don't want it."

Tate got up and put on leggings and a tee shirt. She should have taken off her new bra, but screw it. Duncan asshole would never see how sexy she looked.

The anger prevented tears. She tried not to think of the humiliation. Either her brother or her father would have to tell the guests there was no wedding. The press would have a field day. Social media. She cringed. Rolling off the bed, she put the do not disturb sign out and pushed the security lock over. No one could come in. Not her parents or her brothers or gloating Faith. Her friend since high school had zero empathy. Duncan spent the night having sex and Faith probably screwed Jimmy. Why did he come to her wedding, anyway?

Wedding. What a farce! Tate threw her gorgeous Jimmy Choo across the room. She sighed when it landed thud on the carpet. She wanted to wear those beauties again one day.

She ignored knock after knock. Even Dani, her brother's trusted assistant, called to her through the door. When her father knocked, she sent a text that she was fine. Her family replied that everyone was leaving. Only Kasper was staying in Vail to ski. Tate had luggage packed for her honeymoon and needed to get away. She texted her brother she was going on her honeymoon alone.

If Kasper asked to join her, she might have said yes, but he would spend the week getting high, climbing coconut trees, or sleeping with women. Possibly all the above, some even at the same time.

Feeling hungry, she wished she ate her breakfast. Frowning, she never even saw her cake. Pissed again, she picked up her knit hat. It wasn't much of a disguise, but she hoped to look like a regular guest. She slipped into the ballroom. Workers were dismantling the set up for her wedding. With her head down, she slipped through the doors leading to the kitchen and entered a back corridor. There it was six tiers of beautiful, sweet buttercream and fondant with a different cake and filling for each layer.

She reached out to drag her finger through the frosting. "Stop!"

She turned to see Marcella, her wedding planner. The woman's face transformed in an instance. "Tate, my dear, how are you? How can I help you?"

She looked at her cake and then the woman. "I want my cake."

"The entire cake?"

It was big. "What will you do with it?"

"Serve it to restaurant guests."

"But my father paid for it. He paid thousands."

"I'm sorry."

"Where's my prime rib?"

"I can have a meal sent to your room."

"I'll take three and I want a large piece from every layer of my cake and champagne, complimentary champagne. And my brother is staying longer, he should receive complimentary meals all week. You made a fortune off my heart ache."

"I'll have someone cut the cake and send it to your room."

"I need it now."

The woman didn't dare cross her. "Let me get a large cake box."

She watched the six pieces fit together like a large round cake. Even if she ate none of it, she would feel some vindication. "Champagne."

Marcella handed her a bottle. "I'll send another with your meals."

Maybe she would ask Kasper to join her. Tate left the ballroom, but turned when she saw him walking her way. His long strides were too quick.

"What are you doing? Everyone is worried about you."

"Why are you still here?" She looked at the box in her hands.

He shrugged. "I haven't left yet." He lifted the lid. "I was looking forward to eating the wedding cake."

She hugged the box. "It's mine. Go negotiate your own."

"I'd rather watch you eat all six slices."

"And three dinners."

His blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. "Come on. I'll convince you to share." He pushed on her back.

"Where are we going?"

"To your room for cake, unless you would rather go to mine?"

"The prime rib is coming to my room." As they stepped into the elevator she said, "We don't like each other."

"That's not true. The way I see it, cake might be what we need to repair the damage."

"It's not like my day could get any worse."

"That's the spirit."

How could he be more beautiful than he was at eighteen?

And we are back to the begining. Thanks for voting ⭐️