He Held Our Wedding at a Crematorium—So I Destroyed His Empire

Summary

Because I work at the Classified Institute, I left all the wedding planning to my fiancé.

On the big day, I wrapped up my project handoff and rushed straight to the venue.

But when I arrived at the address he'd sent, I stopped dead.

This wasn't a wedding venue. It was a crematorium.

I called Ethan Gilbert immediately—but Serena Matthews answered instead.

"My dog died. Ethan's here holding a little memorial, so we figured—why waste the space? Just use it for your wedding."

I swallowed my rage.

"Put Ethan on."

His voice came through, dripping with impatience.