Chapter Two

 The Wedding Exposed

Sophia’s breath was ragged as she slipped out of the bridal suite, her knuckles white as they gripped her phone, the weight of her decision nearly suffocating. But there was no turning back now. Her heart thundered in her chest, but her expression was carved in stone—cold, unflinching. This was the moment everything would change. The lies, the betrayal—it all came down to this.

She could still hear the murmur of guests from the hallway, the soft music lulling everyone into a false sense of serenity. Little did they know that within minutes, the entire illusion would be shattered.

As Sophia reached the dimly lit corridor, Susan grabbed her arm, her face pale with worry. "Sophia, what the hell is going on? You’re acting so strange. Please talk to me."

For a moment, Sophia’s gaze softened, the weight of Susan’s friendship tugging at her. But the moment passed, and she hardened again, her eyes now distant, cold. "I can’t explain, Susan. Not now. You need to trust me. Stay out of this."

Susan’s face twisted in confusion and panic. "Stay out? I’m your best friend. I’ve never seen you like this. You look... like you’re about to do something insane." She glanced at Sophia’s phone, fear rising in her chest. "Are you calling off the wedding? What are you doing?"

Sophia clenched her jaw, her mind spinning with possibilities—none of them good. "No, I’m not calling it off. But after today... nothing will ever be the same." She met Susan’s eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Cover for me. Promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll tell them I’m coming. I just need more time."

The desperation in Sophia’s voice was enough to send chills down Susan’s spine. "Sophia, please don’t do this. Talk to me."

Sophia’s eyes flashed with a quiet rage. "There’s nothing left to say." And with that, she turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Susan frozen in place, her heart pounding with the undeniable feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

The grand hall was alive with the buzz of anticipation. The elite of the city had gathered in their finest, their conversations lilting with excitement. Crystal chandeliers cast soft light over the room, making everything shimmer, but beneath the surface, there was an energy—a strange, suffocating tension that no one could quite place.

At the back of the hall, Sean sat in the front row, his fingers drumming nervously on the armrest of his chair. He glanced toward the entrance, his impatience barely concealed. Beside him, Sandra’s eyes flicked to the entrance as well, her face tight with suspicion.

"Where is she?" Sandra hissed under her breath. Her tone was sharp, her posture stiff. "She should be here by now. Something isn’t right."

Sean shot her a sideways glance, his frustration evident. "Calm down, Sandra. She’s just nervous. She’ll be here."

Sandra’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You’re too trusting, Sean. I told you—today feels wrong. I can feel it in my gut."

Susan stood near the entrance to the hall, trying to remain calm as the wedding coordinator hovered nearby, gesturing for the ceremony to begin. The guests were growing restless, shifting in their seats, whispering among themselves.

She pulled out her phone, her thumb trembling as she typed a quick message to Sophia. Where are you? But she knew, deep down, that no reply would come.

Sophia’s heart raced as she slipped into the operations room, her hands shaking. The technician, a grizzled man in his mid-40s, looked up from his screens with a puzzled expression.

"Ma’am, the wedding video is already queued. Everything’s ready to go," he said, gesturing to the monitors.

Sophia’s eyes narrowed. "Not anymore. You’re going to play this instead." She shoved her phone into his hands, her voice icy, controlled, yet tinged with something dangerous.

The technician blinked, confused. "This wasn’t part of the—"

"Do it," Sophia snapped, her voice low but carrying an undeniable threat. "You play this when they queue the video, or I’ll make sure you regret it."

His eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed hard, nodding. "Y-Yes, ma’am."

Sophia watched him upload the video, her breath coming fast. There was no room for mistakes now. She turned and disappeared back into the shadows, the chaos she was about to unleash hanging over her like a storm cloud ready to burst.

The lights dimmed in the grand hall, and a hush fell over the crowd. The wedding coordinator’s voice rang out, cheerful, unaware of the tempest about to strike. "Ladies and gentlemen, please turn your attention to the screen as we present a special video celebrating the love story of Sophia and Ryan."

The projector flickered to life, and the screen lit up with beautiful, sunlit footage—Sophia and Ryan, hand in hand, laughing in a field of wildflowers, their smiles warm and full of hope. The crowd cooed softly, their admiration almost palpable.

But then, suddenly, the screen flickered. Static. The footage cut abruptly.

Confusion rippled through the crowd.

And then the screen changed. The soft, romantic imagery was replaced by something darker. A dimly lit hotel room. Sheets tangled. Clothes scattered. And there, moving across the frame—Ryan, naked, wrapped around Emma, Sophia’s stepsister, their bodies intertwined.

Gasps tore through the crowd like wildfire. Shock, confusion, and disbelief. Faces turned toward the altar where Ryan stood, his face drained of all color, eyes wide with horror.

Sandra shot to her feet, fury contorting her features. "What the hell is this?" she spat, her voice sharp and venomous, echoing through the hall.

Sean stiffened beside her, his face a mix of disbelief and rage. "Sophia, where is she?" he muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd for his daughter, but there was no sign of her.

Ryan staggered forward, his hands trembling, his mind scrambling for an explanation. "This... this isn’t real!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "This can’t be happening!"

Suddenly, the doors to the hall swung open. Sophia walked in, her presence a quiet storm. The crowd parted as she glided down the aisle, her expression unreadable, cold, and calculated. There was something terrifying in the way she moved, in the way she held herself—like a predator circling its prey.

Ryan took a step back, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Sophia, what have you done?" His voice shook with panic, but there was no sympathy left in Sophia’s eyes.

She stopped at the altar, standing just feet away from him, her gaze piercing through him like ice. "The truth, Ryan," she whispered, her voice low, filled with a dark, quiet rage. "It always comes out."

The guests were on edge, their voices hushed, hearts pounding with the realization that everything they had witnessed was real. There was no escape now.

And then the screen flickered again.

Another video began to play—a new one. This time, it wasn’t Ryan in the frame. It was Emma. She sat in the back seat of a car, her eyes hollow, her face streaked with tears. The camera shifted, revealing a figure next to her—a man, faceless in the dim light. His voice, low and haunting, whispered, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Emma’s voice cracked as she replied, "I need to teach her some lessons."

The video cut off, leaving the crowd breathless.

Ryan, shaking with anger, exploded. "You think this is over?!" he bellowed, grabbing Emma from the back of the hall and dragging her forward. "You think you’ve won, Sophia? No. I choose her!" His voice rose, wild with fury. "I choose Emma, and this wedding—this life—is mine!"

Chaos erupted. Guests stood, shouting in confusion. Sean looked ready to lunge at Ryan, but Sandra held him back, her face twisted with disgust.

Sophia’s world tilted on its axis as she watched her carefully laid plan spiral out of control. Her breath hitched in her throat as Ryan smirked, his hand still gripping Emma’s.

Without a word, Sophia turned and stormed out of the hall, the sound of her heels echoing like gunshots against the marble floor. She didn’t stop when Susan called after her. She didn’t stop when the world seemed to implode behind her.