This Is What She Chose
News of a wedding in Nordica's top power family lit up the world.
But at the rehearsal, I caught my fiancée, Ivette Bianchi, making out with her childhood sweetheart, Jerick Weiner.
"Babe, we've been in love forever. Let me use your first-time blood as pigment for my art?"
Ivette blushed, hesitated—
Jerick didn't wait. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her.
"My best piece needs that color," he whispered. "I want this painting to end our youth."
I watched them twisted together, ice-cold. Dropped the ring. It clattered across the floor.
"Go through with the ceremony," I said. "Or your family goes broke."
She stiffened, shoved Jerick off, and spat, "Fine."
Then she turned right back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him inside. "It's just a bachelorette party. I won't miss the rehearsal."
The door slammed.
I didn't react. I was done.
I made the call.
"Change the bride. And yeah—the Bianchis crossed the line first. I want them erased."