---- Chapter 8 Connor Tate POV: Her words hit me, but my brain refused to process them. "No," | said, shaking my head. "No, you' re not. You' re my wife." | took a step towards her, my hand outstretched, intending to pull her away from him, to drag her back to reality. Killian shifted, placing himself subtly between me and Harley. "| think you' re mistaken," he said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "She's my wife. Or she will be, in about ten minutes." Suddenly, the ballroom didn' t feel so empty anymore. Two large men in dark suits materialized at Killian' s side, their eyes fixed on me. "Mr. Copeland," one of them said. "Is there a problem?" Just then, a wedding planner bustled past. "We' re ready for you, Mr. Copeland, Mrs. Copeland-to-be. The guests are seated in the garden." Harley looked around, confused. "Garden? | thought it was in here." Killian chuckled, a rich, easy sound. He tapped her gently on the nose. "Sweetheart, you' ve always been terrible with directions. The ballroom is for the reception." He cupped her ---- face, his thumb stroking her cheek. The gesture was so intimate, so possessive, it made my blood boil. "Don' t touch my face," Harley swatted his hand away playfully, but her eyes were sparkling. "You' Il smudge my makeup." "Then I' Il just have to kiss it off later,", he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He pulled her into another hug, burying his face in her hair. | couldn' t take it anymore. | surged forward. "Get your hands off her!" The two bodyguards moved instantly, blocking my path, their arms like steel bars across my chest. "Harley, please!" | begged, struggling against them. "Don't do this! | love you! It' s always been you!" She finally turned to look at me, her face unreadable. "You love me?" she repeated, her voice flat. "Is that why you served me up to a pig like Henderson on a silver platter? Is that why you told me | was nothing but a substitute for another woman?" The blood drained from my face. She had heard. She had heard everything. "Harley, | didn' t mean it," | stammered, my mind racing. "I was angry. | was trying to hurt you because you hurt me. It ---- was a lie. All of it." "It doesn' t matter anymore," she said, her voice softening with something that looked like pity. It was worse than her anger. "We' re divorced, Connor." She turned back to Killian, slipping her hand into his. The sight of their intertwined fingers was like a physical blow. "Let's not keep our guests waiting, darling." Darling. The endearment was a knife in my gut. They started to walk away. "Harley!" | roared, thrashing against the guards. "You can't do this!" Killian paused, whispering something to Harley. She nodded and continued walking towards the garden doors. Killian turned back to me, his eyes as cold as chips of ice. "Let him go," he told his men. They released me. | stumbled forward, my legs unsteady. "She' s my wife," | said again, my voice cracking. Killian just smiled, a slow, cruel curve of his lips. "Not anymore." He turned and followed her, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the grand, empty ballroom. | wouldn't let it end like this. | ran after them, out into the sun ---- -drenched garden. It was filled with people, all of them turning to watch as Harley and Killian walked down the aisle. | had to see it. | had to witness this madness for myself, to prove that it wasn't real.