Stitched in Revenge

Chapter 1: Shattered Vows....

Aria Monroe stood in front of the mirror, her ivory gown shimmering under the golden glow of the vanity lights. Lace hugged her curves, the delicate embroidery whispering promises of forever. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, the beginning of her fairytale. Instead, it was the cruelest nightmare.

Her phone buzzed on the vanity, a message from an unknown number. Curious, she picked it up, her manicured fingers trembling slightly. The moment she clicked play, the air was sucked from her lungs. The video was short, but it was enough to shatter everything. Jason, her fiancé, tangled in sheets with Olivia, her best friend. Their moans filled the quiet room, a sickening symphony of betrayal. Her stomach clenched, bile rising in her throat as she watched Jason do things to Olivia that he once swore were only for Aria.

The world spun. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, a wild animal desperate to break free. Her knees wobbled, but she refused to fall. Instead, she hit replay, needing to torture herself with every disgusting second, as if branding the betrayal into her soul would make the pain easier to bear.

Tears threatened to spill, but she swallowed them down. No. Jason didn’t deserve her tears. Olivia didn’t deserve her grief. What they did deserve was consequences.

Aria straightened, her spine rigid with purpose. If they thought they could do this to her and walk down the aisle with their dirty little secret safely tucked away, they were dead wrong.

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The grand ballroom of the Monroe estate glittered with gold and white decor, a scene straight out of a bridal fantasy. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over the sea of well-dressed guests, the air filled with laughter and clinking champagne glasses. A string quartet played softly in the background, setting the mood for what was supposed to be the most beautiful wedding of the season.

At the altar, Jason stood tall, adjusting his cufflinks, oblivious to the storm brewing. His groomsmen patted his back, exchanging grins, unaware of the humiliation barreling toward him. Olivia sat among the bridesmaids, a coy smile playing on her lips, as if nothing had happened. Aria’s stomach turned at the sight.

Her mind flashed back to the countless sleepovers, late-night gossip, and whispered secrets she had shared with Olivia. They had been inseparable since college, bonded by dreams and promises of lifelong friendship. Jason had been a part of that world, their perfect love story woven into the fabric of their lives.

How long had they been deceiving her? How many times had they laughed behind her back while planning her dream wedding? Rage burned through her veins, white-hot and merciless.

She inhaled deeply, gripping the small remote in her hand. One press of a button and the room would know the truth. But she wasn’t going to stop there.

The wedding march began, and the doors to the ballroom opened. Gasps of admiration filled the space as Aria stepped forward, a vision of elegance and grace. Her face was calm, unreadable, but inside, a fire raged. She took slow, deliberate steps down the aisle, soaking in every second. Let them see her. Let them admire the bride who was about to turn this fairytale into a tragedy.

She reached the altar and met Jason’s gaze. His eyes shone with love—no, with the illusion of love. The same eyes that had looked at Olivia hours ago with the same hunger. Disgust coiled in her stomach, but she kept her expression serene.

“Before we begin,” she said, her voice steady, “I have something special to share with all of you.”

Jason’s brows furrowed, and Olivia shifted uncomfortably. Aria lifted the remote, and with one click, the ballroom’s massive screen flickered to life.

The video played. Gasps echoed through the hall. A few guests covered their mouths in horror. Jason’s face drained of color, his hands balling into fists. Olivia let out a strangled gasp, her cheeks burning with shame.

Aria turned to Jason, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Looks like you had a little pre-wedding celebration. Without me.”

Jason stumbled forward. “Aria, I—”

“Save it.” She held up a hand. “You don’t get to talk. Not after this.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Jason’s parents gawked in stunned silence. Olivia’s face crumpled as she buried her head in her hands.

Aria turned to the guests, her smile sharp. “I want to thank you all for coming. But there won’t be a wedding today. Turns out, my groom was already warming someone else’s bed.”

The murmurs turned into full-blown whispers. Cameras flashed. Someone let out a low whistle. Jason reached for her arm, desperation in his eyes. “Please, Aria. Let’s talk.”

She yanked her arm away. “Talk? Like you talked with Olivia?” Her voice was laced with venom. “Tell me, Jason, did you promise her forever too? Did you tell her she was the love of your life?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it, guilt written all over his face.

“That’s what I thought.” She exhaled slowly, then turned to the audience once more. “Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the evening. Drink, dance, celebrate.” She lifted her bouquet mockingly. “After all, it’s not every day you get to witness a cheating groom and a backstabbing best friend get exactly what they deserve.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, head high, leaving behind gasps, whispers, and the shattered remains of her supposed happily-ever-after.

As she stepped out of the ballroom and into the night, the weight of what just happened settled on her shoulders. The pain was real, the betrayal deep, but she had taken control. Jason and Olivia had tried to break her, but she refused to be the victim.

Love had made her weak. Never again.

Tonight was supposed to be the start of her forever with Jason. Instead, it was the beginning of something else entirely.

A new Aria Monroe was born.

And she would never be broken again.

The cold night air wrapped around her like an embrace as she stepped into the waiting limo, the driver glancing at her through the rearview mirror, unsure if he should congratulate her or offer condolences. She stared ahead, her mind racing.

Tomorrow, the world would talk about her. The whispers would spread, but none of it mattered.

Because Aria Monroe was done being the damsel.

From now on, she would be the one writing her own story.

And it would be stitched in revenge.

The limo rolled away from the Monroe estate, the grandeur of the ballroom fading into the night behind her. Aria sat motionless, her bouquet still clutched in her hands. The delicate white roses, once a symbol of love and purity, now felt like a cruel joke. With a slow exhale, she tossed them onto the seat beside her, watching as the petals crumpled under the weight of betrayal.

Her fingers curled into her lap, nails digging into the fabric of her gown. The dress, the venue, the flowers—every detail of today had been carefully planned for months, a vision of perfection she had cherished. And in mere minutes, it had all been torn apart.

Good.

Perfection was a lie.

Love was an illusion.

Aria leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes as memories of the past four years played like a broken film reel in her mind.

Four Years Ago – The Beginning

It had been a whirlwind romance. Jason had swept her off her feet with grand gestures, late-night phone calls, and whispered promises of forever. He had been her rock, the man she had trusted with every piece of herself.

She still remembered the night he had proposed. They had been on vacation in Italy, walking through the narrow streets of Florence. The sunset had painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson when Jason had suddenly dropped to one knee, a dazzling ring in his hand.

“Marry me, Aria. Be mine forever.”

Tears of joy had filled her eyes as she whispered, “Yes!”

She had believed in him, in them, in their future. She had believed that she was the only one in his world. That Olivia was nothing more than a friend.

God, what a fool she had been.

Present – The Aftermath

The limo came to a slow stop in front of her apartment building. Aria hadn’t even realized she had given the driver her address, lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts. The chauffeur opened the door, and she stepped out, her once-pristine dress now wrinkled and heavy, a reminder of everything she had left behind.

She pushed open the front door of her apartment and stumbled inside. The silence was deafening. For the past few months, she had imagined Jason carrying her over the threshold as husband and wife, laughing as they started their new life together.

Now, the only thing she carried was the weight of her shattered heart.

Her fingers fumbled for the zipper at the back of her dress, yanking at it desperately. When it refused to budge, frustration and fury surged through her, and she let out a strangled sob, grabbing a pair of scissors from her desk. With shaking hands, she sliced through the delicate lace, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a pile of expensive ruin.

Standing in the dim light of her bedroom in nothing but her slip, she stared at herself in the mirror. The same mirror where she had admired herself hours ago, dreaming of her future as Mrs. Jason Carter.

What a joke.

Her mascara was smudged, her lipstick faded, her hair falling from its intricate updo.

She looked… different.

Not broken. Not weak.

Different.

Determined.

A slow breath escaped her lips.

Jason had taken her heart. Olivia had taken her trust.

But they hadn’t taken her fire.

She walked over to her desk, where her sketchbook lay open, filled with designs she had been working on for months. She traced her fingers over the lines, the intricate details of wedding dresses she had once dreamed of creating for her clients—the same dream that now felt like a bitter pill to swallow.

A new idea began to form. A different kind of dress. A different kind of story.

If Jason and Olivia thought they had destroyed her, they were dead wrong.

She would rise from the ashes of this betrayal.

And she would make sure the world knew her name—not as the scorned bride, but as the woman who built an empire from the ruins.

With newfound clarity, Aria picked up a pen and began sketching.

This wasn’t the end.

It was just the beginning.