My Wedding, My Killer, His Betrayal

My Wedding, My Killer, His Betrayal

Gavin

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I don't remember how I got here. One moment, a crushing weight, the roar of a furious crowd, a sharp, final pain. The next, nothing. Then, a flicker. A cold, sharp light that formed a heavy, cream-colored cardstock. Gold letters shimmered: You are cordially invited to the wedding of Ethan Davis and Mia Thompson. Ethan Davis. My uncle. The man who raised me, mentored me, then destroyed me. Mia Thompson. That' s my name. The invitation dissolved. I landed, an unseen observer, in a sun-drenched garden. At the altar, under a floral arch, stood Ethan. Then the music swelled. The bride walked down the aisle. The woman in the white dress was me. She had my face, my dark hair, even the tiny mole above my lip. But her smile was too sharp, her gaze too possessive. It was Chloe Miller. The scene ripped away. I was hurled back to the day my life ended. On a stage, my masterpiece, "Nexus," projected behind me. "This is a lie!" Chloe' s voice sliced through the applause. "She stole it! Nexus is my work!" The crowd turned savage. Cameras flashed. I sought Ethan, the one person who knew the truth. "Ethan, tell them," I begged, my voice a pathetic whisper. "Tell them the truth." He looked at me. Guilt, then cold, calculated resolve. He stepped to the microphone. "I am deeply disappointed. Our company is built on integrity. We cannot and will not tolerate intellectual theft." My death sentence. The world exploded. "Thief!" "Fraud!" Hands grabbed, tearing at my clothes. Rage-contorted faces. I fell. The last thing I saw was Ethan turning his back, his arm around Chloe, as the mob swallowed me whole. Now, a ghost at my own wedding. My uncle was marrying my murderer. The invitation said he was marrying me. The irony was a bitter taste. They wouldn't even let me rest. They' d stolen my work, my reputation, my life. Now, my very face. But a new feeling solidified within my spectral form. Rage. They would not get their happy ending. I would burn their perfect world to the ground.

Introduction

I don't remember how I got here.

One moment, a crushing weight, the roar of a furious crowd, a sharp, final pain. The next, nothing.

Then, a flicker. A cold, sharp light that formed a heavy, cream-colored cardstock. Gold letters shimmered: You are cordially invited to the wedding of Ethan Davis and Mia Thompson.

Ethan Davis. My uncle. The man who raised me, mentored me, then destroyed me.

Mia Thompson. That' s my name.

The invitation dissolved. I landed, an unseen observer, in a sun-drenched garden.

At the altar, under a floral arch, stood Ethan.

Then the music swelled. The bride walked down the aisle.

The woman in the white dress was me.

She had my face, my dark hair, even the tiny mole above my lip. But her smile was too sharp, her gaze too possessive. It was Chloe Miller.

The scene ripped away. I was hurled back to the day my life ended.

On a stage, my masterpiece, "Nexus," projected behind me.

"This is a lie!" Chloe' s voice sliced through the applause. "She stole it! Nexus is my work!"

The crowd turned savage. Cameras flashed. I sought Ethan, the one person who knew the truth.

"Ethan, tell them," I begged, my voice a pathetic whisper. "Tell them the truth."

He looked at me. Guilt, then cold, calculated resolve.

He stepped to the microphone. "I am deeply disappointed. Our company is built on integrity. We cannot and will not tolerate intellectual theft."

My death sentence.

The world exploded. "Thief!" "Fraud!" Hands grabbed, tearing at my clothes. Rage-contorted faces.

I fell. The last thing I saw was Ethan turning his back, his arm around Chloe, as the mob swallowed me whole.

Now, a ghost at my own wedding. My uncle was marrying my murderer.

The invitation said he was marrying me.

The irony was a bitter taste. They wouldn't even let me rest. They' d stolen my work, my reputation, my life. Now, my very face.

But a new feeling solidified within my spectral form.

Rage.

They would not get their happy ending. I would burn their perfect world to the ground.

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I carried a thermal container of stew to my fiancé's private estate, worried he was stressed about our upcoming pack merger. Instead of a meditation retreat, I walked into a nightmare. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Ivan playing on the rug with a secret son, while a woman named Kiera watched like a queen. I froze as I heard Ivan's voice float through the glass. "Aliana is just a placeholder. She smells like antiseptic and fear. Once I get the territory, I'll reject her." My heart shattered, but the knife twisted deeper when he laughed about my parents. "Her folks pay for this villa, Kiera. They know. They prefer a strong alliance over a disappointment of a daughter." My own parents were drugging me to steal my medical patents. They thought I was weak. They thought I was just a submissive Healer. I wiped my tears and unlocked his safe with the admin codes he forgot I installed. I took the financial records, the fake DNA tests, and the theft agreements. That night, at his secret son's birthday party, I didn't bring a gift. I brought a projector. I played their confession for the entire Council, severed the mate bond publicly, and vanished into the North. Six months later, a ruined, homeless Ivan crawled into my clinic, begging for the legendary White Wolf to save him. He looked up, shocked to see me standing there, glowing with silver power. "You rejected the gift of the Goddess," I smiled, letting my Alpha aura crush him to the floor. "Now, get out."

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