Chapter 1 chattered wedding
Clara’s reflection smiled back at her in the mirror — elegant, glowing, and full of dreams.
Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Her heart fluttered as she thought of Ethan waiting at the altar. A mischievous grin touched her lips. Maybe I’ll tease him a bit before the ceremony.
She lifted her gown and walked toward his room, excitement bubbling inside her. The scent of roses filled the hall, soft music floating from the reception area.
Everything felt perfect… until she opened the door.
And everything shattered.
Ethan wasn’t alone.
He was kissing someone — deeply, hungrily.
Her best friend.
For a heartbeat, Clara stood frozen. The laughter, the chatter, the music beyond that door—all of it faded. Only the sound of her heartbeat remained, violent and raw.
Her hand trembled as she reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. Click.
Record.
The sound sliced through the room like a blade.
They froze. Ethan spun around, shock written all over his face. Lydia gasped, her lipstick smeared, her eyes darting to the door.
> “C-Clara, it’s not what you think—” Ethan stammered.
Clara’s slow clap cut through his words Clara’s reflection smiled back at her in the mirror — elegant, glowing, and full of dreams.
Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Her heart fluttered as she thought of Ethan waiting at the altar. A mischievous grin touched her lips. Maybe I’ll tease him a bit before the ceremony.
She lifted her gown and walked toward his room, excitement bubbling inside her. The scent of roses filled the hall, soft music floating from the reception area.
Everything felt perfect… until she opened the door.
And everything shattered.
Ethan wasn’t alone.
He was kissing someone — deeply, hungrily.
Her best friend.
For a heartbeat, Clara stood frozen. The laughter, the chatter, the music beyond that door—all of it faded. Only the sound of her heartbeat remained, violent and raw.
Her hand trembled as she reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. Click.
Record.
The sound sliced through the room like a blade.
They froze. Ethan spun around, shock written all over his face. Lydia gasped, her lipstick smeared, her eyes darting to the door.
> “C-Clara, it’s not what you think—” Ethan stammered.
Clara’s slow clap cut through his words like thunder.
> “My best friend indeed… and my darling husband-to-be,” she said softly, her voice calm but deadly. “The two people I trusted with my life.”
Neither of them moved.
Her smile was sharp and cold. “You know what’s funny?” she whispered. “I almost pitied you.”
She turned away before tears could fall, her gown sweeping behind her like a queen’s cloak.
The wedding hall erupted in whispers as she strode in, her face pale but her spine straight. Guests turned, confused by the sight of the bride alone.
Clara walked to the altar, took the microphone, and said clearly, her voice echoing through the hall:
> “The wedding is not happening. The groom has already chosen his bride.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Then silence.
And when whispers turned cruel, she lifted her phone and tapped the screen. The projector flared to life.
There it was — Ethan and Lydia, caught in betrayal.
The kiss. The lies. The end of everything.
The video ended. The hall went still.
Ethan stumbled forward, his pride bleeding through his voice.
> “I—I was only pitying you, Clara! You’re nothing but a nobody I tried to save. Look at you — pathetic, broke, desperate—”
> “Enough!” Clara shouted, but before she could say another word—
SLAP!
Ethan’s hand struck her face. The sound cracked like lightning.
Gasps filled the room. Clara fell back, hand clutching her cheek. But her eyes—her eyes burned with fury.
Slowly, she stood up. And then she slapped him back.
Hard.
The guests froze.
> “That,” she said through clenched teeth, “was for every lie you fed me.”
Lydia rushed to his side, trembling. “You’ll regret this, Clara!” she hissed.
> “No,” Clara said coldly. “You will.”
And as she turned to leave, something shifted miles away.
---
At Steel Corporation Headquarters…
Inside a glass-walled office, a man in a dark suit studied a file. His nameplate read: Alexander Steel.
He flipped through a set of photos — all of Clara.
The door burst open. His assistant, Vincent, panted heavily. “Boss, we found her. The woman you’ve been searching for — Clara Moore. But…” he hesitated, “she’s getting married today.”
Alexander’s gaze hardened.
He stared at her photo again, tracing her smile with his thumb.
> “No,” he said quietly. “That wedding won’t happen.”
He stood, buttoning his jacket with calm precision.
> “Prepare the car,” he ordered. “She saved me ten years ago. Now, it’s my turn.”
Vincent blinked. “Boss… are you sure?”
> “No matter what,” Alexander said coolly, his eyes darkening. “We’re bringing her back.”
---
Back at the wedding, chaos reigned. Guests whispered. Photographers snapped photos.
Clara stood alone under the chandelier’s glow — broken, humiliated, but still standing.
And somewhere outside, black cars were already moving toward the hall.
