In Lügen unterzeichnet, in Liebe versiegelt

The church decorations were breathtaking: white roses cascaded from crystal stands, golden candlelight flickered on the marble walls, and soft music floated by in the background—elegant and timeless, enveloping the guests seated in neat rows.

It looked like something out of a dream. At least, that's what Catalina Odette had thought when she woke up that morning.

Now she stood at the altar in a custom-made gown worth more than most people's annual salary, staring at the massive oak doors at the church entrance.

The priest kept glancing at his watch, and the murmuring grew louder.

Catalina swallowed carefully, her chest feeling tight, and she began to sweat from the inside out.

Three years leading up to this moment, and he was nowhere to be found.

Catalina heard it, but her face remained calm. An Odette never made a scene, never lost her composure in public, and would never let anyone see weakness.

He was here… finally. But the man who walked in wasn't Grayson. It was his best friend, and judging by the pale expression on his face, something was very wrong.

Something terrible was about to happen; she could feel it.

Catalina stared at the screen. At first, her mind refused to process what she was seeing.

The bouquet slipped from her fingers, and her white lilies scattered across the marble floor. A collective gasp echoed through the church, for the telephone had also fallen, and the image was now visible to everyone.

Whispers exploded throughout the room, guests rising from their seats. Catalina couldn't hear any of it; her ears were ringing, and her vision was almost blurred, because the woman lying next to Grayson in those photos was no stranger.

Then another notification appeared on Ethan's phone. The entire church watched as Ethan slowly picked up the phone.

Catalina felt something break inside her. A tear slid down her cheek, but the guests continued to whisper incessantly, phones were pulled out, and videos were recorded.

Slowly, Catalina bent down, picked up the fallen bouquet, straightened her back, raised her chin, and wiped away her tears.

She handed Ethan his phone back. "Thank you," she said softly.

Catalina took a deep breath. "Thank you all for coming today."

What could they say? She had just been publicly humiliated, and yet she comforted them.

She took it out of the small handbag she was carrying. Catalina stared at it and slowly opened the message; it was from an unknown number.

When she opened the message, she saw a photo that was far worse than any she had seen before, and underneath were just six cold words: