Crowded by Fire

Annalise Crane was no stranger to rejection. She'd been rejected by venture capitalists who didn't believe in her vision, by board members who underestimated her, and, most famously, by Ethan Donovan, the man who had knelt on one knee only to stand back up and walk away with someone else.

But this? This was a new level of audacity.

She stared at the glossy cream-and-gold envelope in her hand, the name "Ethan & Madeline Donovan" glaring at her like a neon sign screaming failure. Her assistant, Julia, hovered awkwardly in the doorway of her corner office, pretending to file papers.

"Burn it?" Julia suggested.

"Tempting," Annalise muttered. Instead, she opened the envelope with the precision of a surgeon and pulled out the wedding invitation. A celebration of love and unity, it read, as if it were mocking her.

Julia peeked over her shoulder. "Oh, hell no. You're not going to that circus, are you?"

Annalise's fingers tightened on the card. "You think I should let them believe I'm too weak to show up?"

"No, I think you should let them believe you're too busy running an empire to care," Julia countered.

"Exactly." Annalise tossed the invitation onto her desk. "But first, I'll need a dress that says, 'I could buy this wedding and still have money left for dessert.'"

Julia smirked. "I'll call Dior."

The wedding was being held at the Donovan family estate—a sprawling monstrosity of glass and steel perched atop a California cliffside. Annalise stepped out of her car, dressed in a deep emerald gown that hugged her figure like sin, her diamond-studded heels clicking against the stone driveway.

Heads turned as she walked into the grand hall. The Donovan family was infamous for their drama, and her arrival was clearly the highlight of the evening.

"Well, well, if it isn't the billionaire scorned."

Annalise turned to face Cole Donovan, Ethan's older brother. He leaned against the bar, his tie loosened and his smirk sharper than the whiskey in his glass.

"Cole," she greeted coolly, her stomach flipping despite her resolve. He was the Donovan family's black sheep, a renegade who thrived on chaos and thrived even more on poking at her defenses.

"I didn't think you'd show," he said, eyes flicking over her with something that looked suspiciously like approval.

"I didn't think you'd care."

"Care? No." He raised his glass in mock salute. "But I do enjoy a good spectacle."

She rolled her eyes and turned away, but Cole's voice followed her. "You should know, Ethan's been sweating bullets since he found out you RSVP'd."

"Good," she said without turning back.

Inside, the ceremony was everything Annalise had expected—obnoxiously lavish and painfully performative. Ethan stood at the altar, looking smug in his custom tuxedo, while Madeline floated down the aisle in a gown that looked more like a chandelier than couture.

As the vows began, Annalise felt a sharp pang in her chest. She didn't love Ethan anymore, but the memory of his betrayal still stung. She forced a serene smile, even as the whispers around her grew louder.

"Do you think she's here to ruin the wedding?" someone whispered.

"She's probably plotting her next hostile takeover," another voice speculated.

Annalise ignored them, but the moment Ethan's eyes met hers across the room, she saw the flicker of doubt in his expression.

After the ceremony, she made her way to the bar, only to find Cole waiting there again, his smirk firmly in place.

"Enjoying the show?" he asked.

"Immensely."

"Care for a twist ending?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Cole leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say our darling groom isn't the only one with skeletons in his closet."

Her pulse quickened. "What kind of skeletons?"

Cole's smirk deepened. "The kind that could destroy him—and everyone else in this room."

The night was far from over, and Annalise realized she wasn't just here to face her past. She was stepping into a war she didn't even know she was part of.