“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…

pivot. The procession will commence in exactly twenty-five minutes.”

Margaret let out a wet, mocking scoff, a pathetic attempt to reclaim her shattered superiority. “A procession in what, exactly? Your undergarments?”

“In my backup gown,” I stated, staring right through her.

Silence sucked the remaining air out of the suite. Jason blinked, his thumb freezing continue reading …