Daniela.
Valentina wraps her arms around Emma, trying to hold back her own tears, but our friend is an absolute wreck.
“That bastard,” I growl, clenching my fists. “We need to hunt him down and make sure he never even thinks about deceiving another woman again.”
“It’s… my fault,” Emma sobs, wiping her face. “I was so stupid to trust him, I…”
“Enough,” I snap, shooting her a warning look. “Don’t make me slap some sense into you again.”
I’m furious—beyond furious, actually.
I can’t believe that after all our warnings, Emma still fell for a man’s lies so easily.
Valentina, Emma, and I have been best friends forever. The three of us grew up together, sharing everything since we were little. From grade school to college, through the good times and the bad—like losing my parents and other hardships—we’ve always had each other’s backs. We’re sisters, even if we don’t share the same blood.
That’s why it infuriates me that our friend hid this relationship from me. She knows Valentina and I would’ve stepped in before things got this far.
I know men, and they’re scoundrels who prey on naive girls like Emma. They charm them, deceive them, take everything they can, and then discard them like trash.
“The worst part is…” Emma takes a deep breath. “He’s getting married this weekend.”
“He’s getting married this weekend?” Valentina asks, and Emma nods. “It was in the announcements.” She pulls out her phone and hands it to us.
I growl as I see the photo of the happy couple—the idiot grinning while the clueless, innocent woman beside him beams with pride, completely unaware of the man she’s about to marry.
How naive.
“Well, we’re going to give this creep what he deserves,” I say, and both of them look at me nervously.
“Should I grab the shovel and some trash bags?” Valentina asks.
“No, his demise can wait for another day. Don’t worry, I’ll handle that later,” I reply. “Right now, we’re going to ruin his wedding, just like he ruined our friend.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
“We’re going shopping, because we’ve got a wedding to crash!” Valentina claps excitedly while Emma looks at me, uneasy.
“Are you sure? I don’t want us to get into trouble.”
“Since when has getting into trouble ever been a problem for us?” I ask, and they both shake their heads. “Then let’s get ready. We need to look stunning and unstoppable.”
Emma eventually calms down, and after some retail therapy, her spirits lift. Saturday arrives, and the three of us get dolled up as best we can. We go all out with wigs, elegant hats, and dark sunglasses to hide our faces.
We want to blend in—truth be told, we always end up in hot water, and I’ve already got a few warnings and lawsuits under my belt for not keeping my temper in check.
The three of us leave our apartment—we’ve lived together since college, sharing the place and splitting the bills.
Emma is anxious and jittery, Valentina has a wicked smirk on her face, and me? Honestly, I’m itching to punch this guy and mess up his face so no woman ever falls for his charm again. But I remind myself of those warnings—I could end up behind bars for assault if I’m not careful.
We give the Uber driver the address, and it doesn’t take long to arrive. We pay, thank him, and make our way toward the beautiful church where the wedding is taking place. As usual, we’re late, and the ceremony has already started. The bride and groom are at the altar, listening to the priest’s words.
We walk quickly, trying to stay unnoticed and keep the clacking of our heels to a minimum, stopping halfway through the crowd of guests. I’m not even sure if we’re on the groom’s side or the bride’s—all that matters is we’re here to wreck this wedding. A man who messes around while engaged doesn’t deserve a happy ending. Besides, this is about sisterhood; we can’t let her marry this jerk. Luckily, the priest hasn’t yet asked if anyone objects. When he finally does, I jump up, smoothing out my tight dress that hugs my curves perfectly.
“I object!” I shout, raising my hand, and the murmurs ripple through the crowd instantly.
“What’s going on?” the priest asks.
“I said, I object.”
“Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“Sir, we’re in the house of God. Mind your language.”
“Who are you?” the bride demands from her spot.
“I’m Melani, and I was this man’s lover.” I point at him, and gasps echo around us.
“What?!” the groom yells. “I don’t even know this woman!”
“You seduced me and lied to me,” I say, faking a sob. “This man stole my heart, took my innocence, and then abandoned me like I was nothing.” Valentina hands me a tissue to keep up the act.
“That’s a lie!” the groom shouts.
“How could you?!” I gasp dramatically as the bride starts hitting him with her bouquet, while he shields his face with his forearms.
“It’s a lie! I don’t know her!”
“And on top of that, we’re expecting a child,” I say, placing a hand on my stomach. “But don’t worry, I’ll raise this baby on my own. He doesn’t deserve a father like this man.”
I should seriously consider acting as a career—I’m pretty darn good at it.
“You’re a monster!” an older man roars, landing a punch on the groom’s face. “How could you betray my daughter?”
The bridesmaids console the bride, who’s sobbing uncontrollably, while the groom lies on the floor after the blow from his father-in-law.
Alright, time to make our exit.
“It’s a good thing he cheated on you with your cousin Gabriel,” the bride snaps, causing the crowd’s gasps to grow louder. “He told me you were unfaithful, and he was right. You’re worthless.” She throws the remains of her bouquet at him.
Well, looks like the bride isn’t as clueless as I thought.
“Gabriel?” Emma mutters, frowning as she rummages through her purse and swaps her sunglasses for her regular glasses. “Oh. My. God…” She covers her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing the horror on her face.
“Which church is this?” she asks one of the guests in front of us.
“This is St. Peter’s Cathedral.”
“What?!” Emma groans loudly, drawing everyone’s attention, even halting the chaos at the altar.
She pulls out her phone from her purse and gasps again, horrified.
“What’s going on?” I hiss through gritted teeth, trying to keep up appearances under everyone’s stares. She’s ruining my performance.
“We’re at the wrong church,” she whispers, barely audible.
“What?”
“I said, we’re at the wrong church!” she raises her voice, then clamps her hand over her mouth.
The room falls silent; all you can hear are our voices and breathing.
“What are you saying?” Valentina asks beside her, handing over her phone.
“This is St. Peter’s Cathedral, and we were supposed to go to St. Paul’s Cathedral.” Valentina gasps, her eyes wide with dread.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Everyone’s staring at us now, and even the groom seems to have heard because he takes a few steps toward us.
“What the hell did you just say?” he growls, wiping his lip.
“Oops? Sorry?” I gesture to the girls to start moving out of the pews. “Excuse us, looks like there’s been a mix-up.” I flash a smile, and as we step into the aisle, the girls start running, their heels clattering loudly. “Really, I’m so sorry, it seems we’ve got the wrong church.” As I back away, the groom and a group of men in black suits start walking toward me. “Which means you’re not the cheater! Congrats, you can get married!” I call out to the bride, unable to see her expression. “Best wishes, may you have many happy years together!”
“Stop right there!” the groom yells, breaking into a run. “Get her!”
I turn and bolt, running as if my life depends on it. Which, honestly, it kind of does—if this guy catches me, I’m done for.