“Now you’ll never marry my son!” my mother-in-law laughed, setting my wedding dress on fire. I wiped my tears, smiled coldly, and said, “Enjoy destroying that dress, because the wedding was never the real trap.” Her face went completely pale when I made one quick phone call…

like the physical embodiment of a thunderclap. His chest heaved as his dark eyes toggled violently from my face, to his mother’s terrified expression, and finally down to the smoldering charcoal heap on the carpet. A split second later, the venue manager hovered nervously behind him, followed closely by Richard Wilson, whose aristocratic face had aged continue reading …