The Wedding Jilt: Gangster's Revenge Bride

Chapter One: Humiliated

**Valerie’s POV**

“AHHHHHHHH!” I screamed as I read through the letter with my trembling hands.

I thought I was going to die as I let out that scream off my throat, it ripped straight from the pit of my stomach, and ricocheted against the high, painted ceilings of the church until even the saints in the multi- coloured glass windows seemed to shiver in pity for me.

I couldn’t stand anymore with the weight of what I just read, the heavy satin of my wedding gown tangling around my legs as I collapsed in front of the altar.

The white roses I had clutched so tightly slipped from my fingers and the petals scattered and bruised as they tumbled down the steps of the altar like wounded soldiers fleeing the scene of battle.

Gasps rippled through the pews, as the guest wondered why their beautiful bride screamed like it was her last day on earth.

My ears caught fragments of their whispers, voices blending with the echo of my cry.

“Madre de Dios…”

“What happened?”

“Did anybody die?”

Some of them may have not realized that my groom wasn’t John, maybe that’s why my procession to the altar had been permitted.

Surely, they thought John who was standing beside me with a nice suit on, was my husband-to-be.

He is the fvcking best-man!

My chest heaved, the corset of the gown biting into my ribs, trapping each desperate breath until it felt like I was inhaling ashes instead of air.

All I could see was the crumpled paper in my hand.

**Two Hours Earlier**

“Hold still or I’m going to stab your scalp clean through.” Anna’s voice was sharp, and so were her fingers as she jammed a bobby pin into my hair.

“If you want to stab me, make it quick,” I muttered, keeping my eyes locked on my reflection. “At least then I’ll die in lace.” I was too excited that anxiety made me uncomfortable.

I had almost all of my friends with me in my hotel suite as I dressed up for my big day, my wedding day with the love of my life.

I stared at the mirror, tilting my chin, trying to see the bride they saw. A girl glowing beneath the lights, curls cascading down her shoulders, veil floating over her like mist. The diamond studs at my ears caught every flicker of light, and the satin of my gown clung to my body like a second skin.

“Perfect,” I whispered under my breath.

“Vale, you’re glowing,” Sofia said behind me, lifting her phone to snap a photo. “Michael is going to pass out the second he sees you.”

“Half the women in Guadalajara are going to pass out the second they see Michael,” Gabriella added, swinging her legs off the arm of the chair where she perched.

I smirked at her through the mirror. “You would be their leader, won’t you?”

She winked. “Oh, I’ve already passed out a thousand times already looking at Michael’s face, if I pass out again, I will surely die in infatuation.”

Their laughter filled the room, and for a moment I almost let it wash away the nervous weight pressing down on me.

Then Anna’s voice cut through, slicing the warmth in half. “Not me. That man gives me scavenger vibes.”

The room stilled. The brush in Sofia’s hand froze mid-stroke. Even Gabriella raised a brow.

I twisted around in my chair, frowning. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, if nobody wants to say it, I will” Anna said, folding her arms, her mouth a hard line. “Michael acts like a gold digger. Always sniffing for scraps.”

Sofia’s curls bounced as she spun toward her. “That’s ridiculous, Anna. He adores Valerie. He would do anything for her.”

“Would he?” Anna’s voice was softer now, almost pitying. “Or would he just do anything for her money?”

Heat climbed my neck, staining my cheeks. I laughed, too quickly. The sound cracked like glass under pressure. “Oh, come on. Michael is not a gold digger. He’s hardworking, he…he has his own tech contracts, he…”

“But your credit card is paying for the weekend trips,” Anna interrupted, her gaze fixed on me through the mirror.

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Sofia rolled her eyes hard enough to rattle the windows. “Stop being jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Anna said. “I just don’t want Vale to get hurt.”

“Why the fuck are you saying it on her wedding day then?” Gabriella snapped.

“Yeah, right. My apologies, I just don’t feel good about this” Anna said as she kept on working on my hair.

I smoothed the lace at my waist, my hands clammy, I knew my friends so well to get offended by that comment, Anna was always that blunt and I would only be crazy if I take offense.

My corset suddenly felt too tight, squeezing every breath into shallow gasps, I tried to convince myself that it’s the dress feeling too tight, not Anna’s words.

She had scratched something raw inside me.

There was a truth under my skin, an itch I couldn’t resist. Michael did ask me for money, he always do with that easy smile, the one that made the request sound like devotion instead of dependence and I always said yes.

Why wouldn’t I? Wasn’t that what love was? Giving until it hurt? Trusting even when you doubted?

Today was proof I’d been right. He was waiting for me, at the end of that long aisle, ready to promise forever.

Anna is single and jealous, I won’t let her ruin my big day.

I turned back to the mirror, determined to glue a smile back onto my face, but my gaze snagged at the empty chair in the corner.

“Wait.” My voice cracked. “Where’s Cynthia?”

Three sets of eyes flicked toward each other like guilty schoolgirls.

“She… um…” Gabriella shifted, her bracelets clinking nervously. “She texted earlier. Said she had a stomach bug. Asked if anyone had medicine.”

“A stomach bug?” The words clawed through my throat. My own stomach twisted as if I’d swallowed a stone. “She’s my maid of honor. She can’t be having a running stomach.”

“She said she’d still try to make it,” Sofia cut in quickly, almost too quickly, her phone still in her hand as if she’d been checking. “Probably just running late. You know Cynthia….always dramatic, always last-minute.”

My chest pinched tight beneath the corset. “She promised she’d be here first thing… she said she wouldn’t leave my side for a second today…”

I reached across the vanity, fumbling for my phone, but Anna’s hand shot out faster. She snatched it away and held it high, her eyes sharp. “No. Vale, don’t spiral. We’re already running late… she’ll come along”

“But….” My protest burned at the back of my throat.

“No buts,” Gabriella interrupted, checking her watch with a theatrical groan. “Seriously, if we don’t leave this instant, the priest will have our heads. He’s already strict as hell.”

My heart tugged violently in two directions….one toward the space where my best friend should have been, the other toward the church where my groom was waiting.

I inhaled sharply, squared my shoulders, and forced the veil back into place with trembling hands. My smile wobbled, but I pinned it down anyway.

“You’re right,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “We should get going, I can’t wait to say I do”

They all teased me as we drove all the way to the church in a limousine I hired, while Gabriella drove my car along, they took pictures, made videos and it was all perfect.

The church rose in front of me like a fortress, its stone walls towering, ancient and immovable, as if they had guarded a thousand broken vows before mine. The bells tolled above, their heavy clangs tumbling over each other in a triumphant welcome that mocked the frantic beat of my heart.

“It’s time!” Anna said swinging the car door open for me.

“Thank you, Anna.” I took a deep breath as I approached the entrance of the church. Light from within the church poured in, a blinding flood that turned the marble floor into a mirror. It felt holy…sacred, radiant…as if the entire universe had bent itself into this instant just for me.

My pulse thundered so violently I thought it might split my ribs open. This was the moment every little girl dreams of. My moment.

Inside the church, the air pressed against me, thick with roses and lilies, incense curling like ghostly fingers through the nave. The string quartet swelled, violins trembling with joy, voices from the pews hushed into reverent awe.

All eyes was on me, with a sea of expectation. Cameras flashed like sparks, freezing me in frames I hadn’t consented to. My gown rustled with each step, heavy lace dragging against the polished aisle, the veil brushing my skin like spider silk. I lifted my chin, clutched my bouquet until thorns bit my palms, and looked toward the altar.

Where is Michael?

My smile faltered. My lips twitched at the edges, refusing to hold the weight of it. I blinked hard, convinced I was mistaken. Maybe he was hidden behind the priest, maybe tying his shoe, or he had stepped aside for just a moment.

The space beside the priest gaped open, cruel and bare.

A ripple spread through the pews like a wave breaking against the rocks, people that knew Michael were expecting to see him also.

“Where is he?”

“Traffic?”

“Is he late?”

Each whisper sliced at me, stripping away pieces of my certainty.

I forced myself forward, my vision tunneled, the edges blurring until all I could see was the yawning emptiness where he should have been.

Oh, thank goodness! John was here, but I wasn’t getting married to John, why is he at the altar alone?

John was supposed to be Michael’s best man. Standing awkwardly by the altar, pale and sweating through his suit, his collar wilted like it couldn’t bear the heat of the moment. His eyes darted everywhere but me.

“John.” My voice broke, thin and jagged. “Where’s Michael?”

He flinched, wrung his hands, his fingers knotting together like rope. “I… I don’t know. He…he was supposed to be here.”

“Supposed to be?” My grip crushed the bouquet stems, green bleeding onto my gloves. “What do you mean, supposed to be?”

John swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, throat slick with panic. He reached into his pocket, his hand shaking. “He… he gave me this. Said… said if something went wrong, I should give it to you.”

My stomach lurched. The walls pressed closer. “What is that?”

“I don’t know.” His voice cracked, trembling as much as his hand as he held out a folded paper.

I snatched it, my own fingers trembling, the edges cutting into my skin. The page was damp with his sweat, still warm from being pressed against his body.

I unfolded it.

My eyes tore across the words.

“AHHHHHHHH!” I screamed as I read through the letter with my trembling hands.

The bouquet slipped from my hands, roses exploding against the floor, petals scattering in crimson and white across marble like the aftermath of a crime scene.