My Wedding, His Takedown
Language: en
Six years after our divorce, I ran into Sebastian at the police station. He had climbed the ranks from an undercover agent to a respected inspector. I had fallen from a cherished heiress to a social pariah. He was there, flush with success, planning his wedding. I was there to collect my father's death certificate. As I turned to leave, his voice halted me. "Stella, do you still hate me?" I shook my head. Hate is the offspring of love. After six long years, the love was gone. And so was the hate. 1 A young officer, blind to the tension, chirped, "Come on, everyone, share Inspector…