Queen Bee’s Wedding Nightmare

My text killed the chat for a second. Then, a bigger wave of mockery exploded.

"She's actually going? Does she have a death wish?"

"She's gonna wear cheap knockoffs and embarrass herself!"

"Can't wait to watch her make a fool of herself."

I let out a cold laugh and locked my screen. Let's see if they kept that same energy tomorrow.

The next afternoon, I drove to the Hamptons alone.

From a distance, I saw my own estate decked out in extravagant white roses and crystals. The decor was even flashier than my own wedding.

I parked and walked to the main hall in my heels.

"Oh my god, Bianca! Your husband is so rich! How much is this place worth?"

"I heard Mr. Nico makes millions a year in the Castiglione family!"

"Being a made man pays off. Just look at this top-tier mansion!"

A bunch of overly dressed women surrounded Bianca in her white gown. They reeked of envy.

Bianca smugly flashed her massive diamond ring. "This is just the beginning. Once I officially marry into the Castiglione family, you'll all be my VIPs."

"You're so lucky, Bianca! Marrying such a powerful man!"

"Yeah, I heard the Castigliones are the most powerful mafia in North America!"

Her lapdogs kept fawning over her. Bianca was so hyped up she almost forgot who she was.

I was just a little curious. Since when did a driver named Gallo run my husband's mafia?

I stepped forward with a cold smirk. "If your husband is such a big deal, why is he borrowing someone else's estate for his wedding?"

All eyes locked onto me.

Bianca's face dropped. Her tone turned vicious. "Alessia! Why the hell are you stalking me here?"

A redhead looked me up and down and scoffed. "What thrift shop did you get that rag from? Still trying to act rich?"

She was talking about my low-key beige dress. If she had any taste, she'd know it was limited edition Valentino Haute Couture. But I didn't bother explaining.

"You were exactly like this in high school!" a tall, skinny girl shrieked. "Stealing other people's family photos to brag, and playing dumb when you got exposed!"

"Still trying to clout-chase? You're shameless!"

Listening to their grating insults, a murderous urge surged inside me.

I thought back to ten years ago, at that elite boarding school.

My father had just donated a whole art building. That guaranteed my Ivy League acceptance. Back then, I kept a low profile. I focused on my studies. I didn't care about dressing up or socializing. I looked like a plain wallflower.

Meanwhile, Bianca was always glamorous. She knew everything about high-society luxury. She took photos stolen from my social media—my family's estate, the private yacht, even pictures with my dad—and claimed them as her own.

Then she flipped the script. She called me a pathetic copycat.

Those stupid classmates believed her.

I was outcast from the elite circle. I lost my college spot.

And she became the school's star "Mafia Princess".

Looks like she was still playing the same old trick.

"The real owner of this estate—" I started to reveal the truth.

"Enough!" Bianca suddenly lunged at me with a twisted face. She grabbed a massive fondant cake from the dessert table and hurled it at me like a maniac.

"I won't let you ruin my wedding!"

I dodged swiftly, but the huge cake still grazed my shoulder. Sticky frosting and syrup instantly plastered half my face, ruining my haute couture dress.

The women around us squealed in excitement, like they were watching a hit show.

"You've owed me this for ten years!" Bianca hissed venomously. Crazy hatred flashed in her eyes. "Today, you pay me back with interest!"