The Altar and the Mistress
Language: en
The vows were on our lips when the doors to the chapel burst open. My groom, Lucian Vance, head of a weapons empire, was about to become a husband. And, it seemed, a father. He stiffened, then immediately released my hands and grabbed his jacket, ready to bolt. “Arabella, she’s in trouble. I have to go,” he said, his voice urgent, his eyes devoid of a single shred of guilt for the woman he was about to leave at the altar. A hush fell over the cathedral. Every guest, every powerful figure from the city’s underworld, turned to stare. “Lucian, I don’t give a damn who Isla is,” I said, my…