My Best Friend Steals My Lovers
Ding
My best friend said she was just protecting me from bad men.
So every time I started dating someone new, she would turn herself into his dream girl. She'd flirt, chase him, and seduce him until she ended up in his bed.
And every time, she'd send me the photos. Always with the same cheerful caption:
"Bestie! If I hadn't tested him, you'd be heartbroken again. Aren't I good to you?"
I was tortured, broken, humiliated.
Eventually, I cut her off completely and moved to another city.
Then I met the man I thought was my true love—Liam. He was kind, devoted, and loving. I thought I could finally be happy.
On my wedding day, I found Madison standing in my dressing room, disguised as my makeup artist. She smiled at me, just like she used to.
"Don't worry, bestie," she whispered. "Let me test this one for you. Then you can marry him."
She drugged me, then put on my wedding gown and got into bed with Liam.
But I woke up in time. I burst into the room with our families. I caught them together.
Later, I got pregnant. During labor, I hemorrhaged. Liam watched me bleed and refused to sign the emergency consent form.
"Madison just wanted to give herself to me before our wedding—to fulfill her wish," he said coldly. "You humiliated her. You drove her to suicide. She died carrying my child."
"You and the bastard in your belly deserve to die too."
That was when I realized—the man I loved had already fallen for my best friend.
I died in agony. My ashes were thrown into a ditch.
Then I opened my eyes.
I was back. On my wedding day. And Madison was standing right in front of me, pretending to be my makeup artist.