After the Acid Attack, I Went on a Rampage
The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut.
"Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me.
The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed.
He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!"
Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along.
"What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!"
Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister.
"Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."