The wedding of revenge

It was agonizing to stand beside the man she once believed would be her forever, watching him vow his life to another woman—her own sister, Evelyn. As the maid of honor, Kaira was painfully close, each vow and whispered promise a knife twisting deeper. She could feel her heart splintering with each passing moment, a suffocating ache in her chest as if her entire world had fractured beyond repair.

Kaira had known heartbreak before, but discovering that Julian had been unfaithful was an agony she hadn’t anticipated. She had trusted him, seen him as the one stable, loving force in her life. The betrayal alone had been devastating, but to learn it was with her own sister—the sister who had taken so much from her—was a torment that left her feeling stripped bare, like her very identity had been torn away.

Finding out through a wedding invitation was a new level of humiliation. It was a double blow, the kind that left her questioning everything she thought she knew about loyalty and love. Her sister was pregnant with Julian’s child, rushing the wedding with a happiness that only made Kaira’s pain sharper. She felt as though she had lost everything, and now her worst enemy was basking in the life she’d dreamed of.

Evelyn had always taken whatever she wanted from Kaira, whether by manipulation, lies, or sheer force. And despite it all, Kaira had always thought she could survive it as long as she had Julian. He had been her anchor, her sanctuary—a small piece of happiness she could call her own. But now, even he was gone, swept into Evelyn’s orbit like everything else. She felt hollow, as though her soul had been drained. No, she realized bitterly, she was more than hollow. She was empty.

For as long as she could remember, she had been an outsider in her own family. Her mother, once her father’s cherished wife, had been replaced when she failed to bear a child. Her father remarried Evelyn’s mother, who quickly gave birth to Evelyn. But Kaira’s mother passed away not long after giving birth to her, leaving Kaira burdened by her father’s resentment. He blamed Kaira, called her ‘bad luck’ and left her to be mistreated by the very people meant to care for her. Even the household staff acted with a cruelty they would never dare show Evelyn.

As she stood there, trapped in her own grief, her eyes swam with unshed tears. She had no choice but to play her part, standing silently as the priest pronounced Julian and Evelyn husband and wife. The weight of her helplessness was crushing. Some might wonder why she would serve as maid of honor in the wedding of two people who had hurt her so deeply. But it wasn’t her decision. They had placed her here, front and center, to remind her that she was powerless—that she existed merely to be mocked and humiliated.

“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Julian Stone,” the priest declared, and the guests erupted into applause as the couple turned to face the congregation.

Evelyn’s gaze found Kaira’s. With a smug smile, she mouthed, “I won again.” It was her way of reminding Kaira of her place—of how easily she could take what little Kaira had left. Evelyn had always relished this game, the way she could destroy Kaira’s dreams as easily as brushing aside an insect. Kaira was nobody in Evelyn’s world, someone she could erase with a mere flick of her finger.

The only reason Kaira hadn’t been cast out entirely was because the Blackwood name was steeped in tradition and power. Kaira existed within this family only to uphold appearances, so that the public would see them as a united, refined family. But the truth was a secret, one the media would never know. Her life was a role, her misery hidden behind a carefully constructed facade.

She couldn’t bear it any longer. Unable to breathe in the stifling room, she fled the ceremony, ignoring the calls of her family. She ran out onto the streets, her legs moving without purpose, her heart pounding as tears streamed down her face. The New York City streets were alive, indifferent to her grief, bustling with people who spared her only curious glances.

Eventually, she found herself in front of a high-end club, one she would never dare to enter on a normal night. But tonight, nothing felt normal. She didn’t care about the cost or her inexperience with drinking—she only wanted to drown out the pain, if only for a moment. She stepped inside, heading for the bar as if it were her last lifeline.

“Give me the strongest drink you have,” she told the bartender, her voice hoarse and resolute. He looked momentarily surprised but nodded, quickly setting a bottle of vodka and a glass in front of her.

Kaira poured her first glass and drank it in one go, feeling the fiery burn as it slid down her throat. The physical sensation was almost a relief, something tangible to focus on. But it did nothing to fill the emptiness, so she poured another, and another. She lost count, her mind numbing as the alcohol seeped through her system. Her pain dulled slightly, though it felt like nothing could fully erase the ache in her heart.

“Another!”she slurred, holding out her glass for a sixth refill. The bartender hesitated, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for one night, princess?” a voice interrupted from behind her.

She turned, glass in hand, to see a man watching her intently. Even through her blurry vision, she could tell he was strikingly handsome, his voice smooth and rich, cutting through the noise around her. His presence seemed out of place, his calm gaze steady against her frazzled state.

“You’re… handsome,”she blurted, unfiltered by the alcohol. He chuckled, reaching over to take the glass from her hand, setting it aside as if to put a stop to her self-destruction.

Annoyed, she scowled at him, grabbing her glass back and shoving it toward the bartender. “Pour,” she demanded, frustration mingling with her helplessness.

The man—Sebastian shook his head at the bartender, who complied with a subtle nod. Kaira, realizing what was happening, turned back to him, her voice trembling with both anger and vulnerability.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she shouted, though the music drowned her out.

“Someone who cares about you,” he replied, his calm smile gentle and genuine. It was the last thing she remembered before her vision blurred, and the world faded to black.