The Wedding Explosion

Kira’s POV

The grand ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel was a sea of white roses.

Thousands of blooms hung from the crystal chandeliers, their sweet scent masking the toxic reality of the room. The hall was packed to capacity. Rows of velvet chairs were filled with the city's most powerful business elites, wealthy socialites, and greedy politicians.

Lining the walls were dozens of reporters. Their camera lenses were focused and ready, hungry for any sign of drama. They had not come to celebrate a union of love. They had come to witness a business transaction. Today, the legendary Lockwood heir was marrying the unwanted, useless daughter of the Myles family.

I stood behind the massive doors at the entrance of the ballroom, waiting for the music to begin. My father, Edward, stood beside me, refusing to even offer me his arm.

Through a small gap in the doors, I could see the front row.

Zara was already there, holding court. She wore a pale pink designer gown that made her look like a fragile, porcelain doll. She was dabbing the corners of her eyes with a lace handkerchief, performing her role flawlessly.

"She is so brave," a woman in the second row whispered loudly, ensuring everyone around her heard.

"I know," another socialite replied, shaking her head. "Zara sacrificed her own happiness to save her family's business. She gave up her place as the bride so her sister could have a billionaire husband. And Kira doesn't even appreciate it."

"Not only that," a third voice chimed in. "I heard Kira stole Zara’s previous boyfriend, Ethan. Zara is a saint for forgiving her."

I listened to the whispers, my face completely blank.

In my past life, those words had pierced my heart. Zara had spent years carefully planting those lies. She painted herself as the tragic victim who gave up her true love, Raheem, only for me to maliciously steal him. She made society believe she was stepping aside today purely out of the kindness of her heart.

The doors swung open.

The traditional wedding march began to play from the string quartet. The entire room stood up and turned to look at me. The flashes of cameras went off like strobe lights, blinding me for a fraction of a second.

I stepped forward. I did not look at the ground, neither did I tremble. I kept my chin high and my steps measured.

Behind the altar, hanging above the priest, was a massive digital screen. It was supposed to play a romantic slideshow of the Myles and Lockwood family crests merging together.

But I had decided to change history.

Ten minutes ago, while sitting alone in the bridal suite, I had used my phone to access the hotel’s unsecured audiovisual network. It was child's play for the hacker the underground world would soon know as Nyx. I had uploaded a single file and set it on a timer.

I reached the middle of the long aisle and deliberately stopped walking.

The crowd looked confused. The string quartet faltered, missing a note.

Right on cue, the giant screen behind the altar flickered.

The romantic background music was suddenly cut off, replaced by the sound of a man groaning in pleasure. The screen went black for a split second before a high-definition video illuminated the entire hall.

The video showed the interior of a luxury hotel room. The timestamp in the corner proved it was recorded just two weeks ago. On the screen, a man and a woman were tangled together on a king-sized bed.

The man was Raheem.

The woman kissing him desperately was Zara.

The entire ballroom froze. The silence was so strong that I could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.

On the giant screen, Raheem pulled back from the kiss and laughed. "I can't believe Kira actually thinks I love her. She's so pathetic."

"She’s an idiot," Zara’s voice echoed through the massive speakers, loud and clear for all to hear. She dragged her nails down Raheem’s chest, smiling wickedly. "Let her marry Aziel Lockwood. She can suffer with that monster, and we can finally be together without hiding. We get the money, and she gets the misery."

The ballroom erupted.

It was as if a bomb had gone off. Gasps of horror filled the air. The reporters, recovering from their initial shock, surged forward like a pack of starving wolves. Camera flashes exploded in a blinding wave, focused entirely on the front row where Zara was standing.

"Did you see that?"

"She’s sleeping with Raheem!"

"I thought Kira stole him? Zara is the homewrecker!"

"She set her own sister up!"

The whispers turned into shouts. The carefully crafted image of the angelic, selfless Zara Myles shattered into a million pieces in front of the city's most powerful people. The scandal was already spreading online. I saw journalists aggressively tapping on their phones, live-streaming the disaster to millions of viewers.

"Turn it off!" Edward Myles roared, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. He frantically waved at the audiovisual booth in the back of the hall. "Cut the power! Right now!"

The screen finally went black, but the damage was irreversible.

For the first time in her life, Zara completely lost control. Her innocent mask fell away, revealing the ugly truth beneath. Her hands shook violently at her sides. She spun around, her eyes locking onto me standing calmly in the middle of the aisle.

"You did this!" Zara screamed, her voice cracking hysterically. She pointed a trembling finger at me, ignoring the dozens of cameras recording her meltdown. "You set me up! That video is fake! It's a deepfake! She edited it to frame me!"

The crowd quieted slightly, eager to see how I would respond to the accusation.

I slowly turned my head to look at her, a small smile lifting the corners of my lips.

"A deepfake?" I asked, my voice carrying effortlessly over the quiet room.

"Yes!" Zara shrieked, taking a step toward me. "You’ve always been jealous of me! You made that video to ruin my reputation!"

I tilted my head, looking at her with an expression of sisterly concern.

"That is a very serious accusation, Zara," I said smoothly. "If someone truly hacked the hotel servers to play an illegally forged video of you and Raheem, that is a severe crime. We shouldn't let a criminal get away with this."

I reached into the hidden pocket of my wedding dress and pulled out my cell phone.

"If it’s fake," I said, my smile widening just a fraction, "let’s call the police. Right now. We can have their cyber division confiscate Raheem’s phone and your laptop. They can pull the hotel security footage from two weeks ago to see if you were really in that room. I am sure a police investigation will clear your name completely."

Zara’s mouth snapped shut.

All the color drained from her face, leaving her looking like a ghost. She stared at the phone in my hand, terror replacing the anger in her eyes. She knew, and I knew, that an investigation would uncover far more than just a hotel rendezvous. It would uncover a mountain of lies.

She took a slow step backward, her lips trembling, entirely unable to speak.

She immediately fell silent. And everyone noticed.

The hesitation was a full, public confession. The reporters went wild again, shouting questions at a paralyzed Zara as my father desperately tried to shield her from the cameras.

I put my phone away and shifted my gaze to the altar.

Standing there, unaffected by the chaos around him, was Aziel Lockwood.

He was incredibly tall, wearing a sharply tailored black suit that seemed to absorb the light in the room. His features were sharp, striking, and cold. In my past life, his dark, calculating eyes had terrified me. He had barely paid attention to me on our wedding day, treating me like a piece of furniture he was forced to buy.

But right now, his gaze was locked entirely on me.

He wasn't looking at the screaming reporters. He wasn't looking at my crying sister or my furious father. He was staring at the woman in the white dress who had just destroyed her family’s reputation with a single strike.

I picked up the hem of my dress and calmly resumed my walk down the aisle. I ignored the screaming, the flashes, and the ruined Myles family behind me.

I stepped up to the altar, stopping just inches away from the most dangerous man in the city.

Aziel looked down at me. His dark eyes searched my face, looking for the timid, broken girl he had been promised. He didn't find her.

A slow, barely noticeable smirk touched the corner of his lips.

"Interesting," Aziel said quietly.

Those were the first words he had ever spoken directly to me. And as the chaotic ballroom raged around us, I knew the game had officially begun.