It was the twenty-fifth of December, and the hotel where the Bouchards were forced to spend the night before had cheerfully prepared for the advent of Christmas with all the seasonal trappings: a festively decorated tree at the lobby, wreaths and mistletoes all around, and Mariah Carey and Justin Bieber singing All I Want for Christmas Is You in the background. There was also a hotel employee dressed as Santa’s elf stationed next to the elevator, and she greeted the Bouchards a Merry Christmas as she handed them complimentary of sugar cookies and candy canes.

“Err, thank you.” Thomas stared blankly at his bag of treats. While he didn’t particularly hate the idea of Christmas, he didn’t like how the holiday forced him to confront the emptiness of existence.

Isabella, however, had very strong feelings against it, and she didn’t hesitate to return the bag to the hotel employee, saying coldly, “No, thanks.” She had always found Christmas and everything that went with it – such as singing carols and giving each other gifts – too disgustingly emotional and pedestrian for her tastes.

And as for India, well – she was young, vapid, and stupid enough to hate it simply because her mother hated it, and so she gave hers back to Santa’s elf as well.

Jonathan stood up as soon as he saw his soon-to-be-ex-wife and her parents coming out of the elevator. He used to be a fairly attractive man, but guilt over his infidelity had taken a toll on his appearance, and he had taken to drinking the moment he found out that India had lied about her pregnancy. Now, he was but a shell of the man he once was, and he didn’t care. He deserved everything that had happened to him for betraying Isla, and now…

Jonathan smiled at the way India’s disapproving gaze raked over his appearance. He knew how he looked: eyes red because of his nightly hangovers, unshaven beard, and crumpled clothing that despite being one size larger was unable to hide his paunch.

“You look horrible, Jon.”

“I make an effort to,” he told her truthfully, “just so people can laugh at you for going behind your sister’s back.”

India turned red. “Bastard!”

But Jonathan had already turned his back on her. “You should see this,” he told Thomas as he handed the older man the local daily.

Isabella saw her husband frown. “What is it?”

“There’s a news article about Isla,” Thomas answered reluctantly. “It says she’s asked the court for a reversal of the adoption.”

His wife let out a screech of outrage. “That bitch!”

Theirs was a small town, and Isabella knew people had already started to talk. She had seen the neighbors’ curtains twitch when they had been evicted out of their own home last night, and now – with this damn news article – people would no longer be able to help themselves. They would start asking her questions, and she would never be able to even defend herself because of that damn man’s threat.

“I honestly don’t see any problem with that,” India inserted in a bored tone. “Isn’t it better she’s no longer a part---”

Isabella’s teeth gnashed. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

India gasped. “Mother!”

“You can’t blame her for taking after you, dear,” Thomas murmured.

It was Isabella’s turn to gasp. “Thomas!”

Jonathan wished he had the time to enjoy the scene unfolding before him, preferably with some popcorn to munch on. Unfortunately, he couldn’t allow it to distract him and so he cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “That’s not the only thing, I’m afraid.” He checked his watch and saw it was five minutes past eleven.

Isabella’s gaze narrowed at seeing Jonathan check the time. “Are you expecting someone?”

Anytime now, he thought. Out loud, he said, “You could say that.”

“Are they anyone we know?” Isabella cast a frowning look at their rather empty surroundings as she asked her question. It had just occurred to her that the Santa Catalina Hotel, which was usually where all of the town’s wealthiest locals had breakfast on Christmas, was quite empty. Where was everyone?

She had her answer not a second later when the sound of applause reached them as the doors of the hotel’s main ballroom were thrown open. People started coming out, cheering and laughing, and Isabella was stunned to see that she knew all of them.

The flow of people seemed endless, and Isabella turned to her husband, asking, “Do you know of any town event scheduled today?” How can they, the Bouchards, not be invited to an event where everyone who was someone was invited?

“I can’t seem to think of any,” Thomas murmured.

“Mother,” India suddenly hissed. “Everyone’s looking at us.”

Isabella quickly spun back and her face went stiff when she realized it was exactly as her daughter said. Even worse, everyone wasn’t just looking at them. They were talking about them, too. Was this about the news article?

People suddenly started cheering again, and soon after a beautifully dressed couple came out. Their attires gave them away – the man in his tux, the bride in her long, white gown (were those real diamonds attached to her train?).

“Whose wedding could it be?” Isabella muttered under her breath.

Jonathan smirked. “Isla’s of course.”

And then he strolled towards the newlyweds to congratulate the pair. The billionaire had given him the chance to atone for his mistake, and he had taken it gladly. Looking over his shoulder, he told a fuming India, “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

Isla had a hard time not looking at the Bouchards as she and her billionaire husband walked past them. She wanted to, though, but it was the one and only thing Sean had put his foot down on. He had agreed to Isla’s plea not to do anything against her parents or even India, but Sean had also made her promise not to have anything to do with them.

I don’t like seeing you hurt, he had told her grimly, and people like them will always hurt you. If you don’t want me to destroy them – then keep away from them for their sakes.

She had of course said yes, and while she had loved how protective he was towards her – no one had ever cherished Isla the way Sean did – ignoring her family turned out to be easier said than done. It was simply not in her nature to hold grudges, and as they stepped out of the hotel, she lifted her face to Sean –

His mouth took hers in a sweet, hard, toe-curling kiss.

“What was that for?” she asked dazedly when Sean finally let her breathe.

He raised a brow. “I thought you were asking me to kiss you.”

A giggle escaped her at the utter seriousness of his tone. “Umm, no.”

He dealt her a curious look as he helped her down the steps. “What is it then?” Their bridal car was already waiting for them, a yet-unreleased model of Rolls Royce that had their guests excitedly taking photos.

“Don’t you think we’re being unnecessarily cruel?” she asked uneasily under her tone.

His handsome face softened. “No, sugar.” It was just like Isla to forgive her family at the first sign of their torment. “They’re the ones guilty of that.” And as far as he was concerned, turning the Bouchards into social pariahs was nothing compared to how they had mistreated Isla her entire life.

The chauffeur opened the door for them, and Sean pressed a hand to the small of her back. “Isla?”

She gnawed on her lip. “Can’t we---” She stiffened. “Sean?”

He couldn’t possibly…

“Sean?”

And then she felt it again.

Oh my God, he really was unzipping her dress.

“Sean!”

“Distraction,” he whispered into ear – just before biting it – and she cried out. There was time enough for her to think about the Bouchards. For now, though, the billionaire made sure that his Christmas bride thought only of him as he took her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

The last glimpse the wedding guests had of the newlyweds were the bride falling on her back and her handsome groom looming over her, and as the door shut closed, the last thing they heard was the bride moaning, “Sean, no---” followed by the distinct sound of something ripping.