Chapter 1 - The Wedding Day Betrayal
Twelve black luxury vehicles idled in the circular driveway of my apartment building. I was in a custom Vera Wang gown, my makeup flawless, ready to step into the lead car—a vintage Rolls-Royce Phantom I had picked out myself, currently draped in extravagant red roses.
Chad, my fiancé of twelve years, hurried over. He looked sharp in his tailored tuxedo, but his face held no joy, only frantic hesitation. He grabbed my wrist, squeezing a little too hard.
"Tara, we need to switch things up a bit," he muttered. "Chloe’s having heart palpitations again. Her doctor said she shouldn't be exposed to the heat or any drafts. Can she ride in the Phantom?"
He pointed toward the very back of the motorcade. "Could you and the maid of honor just take the last car?"
I followed his gaze—it was a rented yellow taxi, acting as a cheap filler for the wedding procession. Meanwhile, the woman in a white chiffon dress, heavily made up, was standing with a smug smile next to the main wedding car, just waiting for me to give up my seat. The wind blew, and she dramatically clutched her chest, coughing a delicate, calculated cough.
Chad looked at her with agonizing pity, then turned back to me, his voice begging. "Babe, please. She’s been frail since high school. Let’s not make a huge scene on our big day, okay?"
I stared at him. The bridesmaids, the videographer, and the groomsmen all froze in dead silence.
Then, I smiled. "Sure."
Chad exhaled in massive relief, rushing over to open the Rolls-Royce door for Chloe, shielding her head with his hand. Before stepping inside, Chloe shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph.
May you like
I lifted my heavy skirt, walked to the beat-up taxi, and got into the backseat. The driver looked confused. "Where to, lady? The country club?"
"No," I replied, staring straight ahead as the Rolls-Royce pulled away. "Not the wedding venue."
