Call Off The Wedding!

"Let go of me!" I shouted.

They didn't release me; instead, they struck my back a few more times.

Pain flared and I bared my teeth, furious.

"Are you insane? I'm the bride. This is my wedding church, and you're beating me up? You'll pay for this!" I warned.

The bodyguards ignored me; they were Nina's people. The crew nearby began whispering among themselves.

"That bride has no sense. Nina is Yves's best friend. She's decorating the church with his approval. Why not just go along and stop making a fuss?"

"Exactly. This must be with Yves's consent. What's the big deal? Just put up with it."

"She probably thinks marrying Yves gives her the right to call the shots. But Yves dotes on Nina. Everyone knows that."

Their murmurs grated on my nerves. I cursed myself for not investigating Yves's past before agreeing to marry him; if I'd known his social circle was so twisted, I would have chosen differently.

Nina's lips curled in scorn. "Hear that? I'm the person who matters most to Yves. If you kneel and beg me for forgiveness right now, I'll go easy on you."

I frowned. Her arrogance was ridiculous. "You bully me and attack me, and then you want me to kneel? That's absurd."

Her eyes flashed with violence. She raised her hand to strike, and I couldn't let her hit me. I struggled free, dodging her blow.

Every instinct screamed to fight back, but my superiors' warnings—stay calm, don't start a scene—kept replaying in my head.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to breathe. Better to endure this than cause a scandal that would spiral out of control.

Nina, undeterred, lunged again.

I coldly lifted my foot, prepared to trip her.

A voice shouted from behind, urgent and worried. "Careful!"

Someone shoved me hard; I crashed into the nearby table and chairs and tumbled to the floor with them, my limbs trembling from the impact. Anger cut through the haze as a fierce voice roared, "How dare you bully Nina!"

My mind went blank. I looked up. Yves, my fiancé, had shoved past and pushed me. He moved toward Nina, concern and protectiveness radiating from him. "Are you all right? Did you get hurt?"

Nina, feigning distress, suddenly puckered her face and looked at me as though wronged. "She's taken advantage of being your fiancée and attacked me," she told him.

Yves turned on me with cold fury. "You've gone overboard, Lucy. Nina's my friend. You will respect her as you respect me."

I laughed bitterly. What a joke. The man I'd chosen for his steady, patient nature couldn't even tell right from wrong.

I forced myself to speak calmly. "Yves, she started this. She's the one who—"

He didn't listen. He turned away and soothed Nina instead. "Don't take it to heart. Ignore Lucy."

My words died in my throat; they felt useless, like throwing punches into cotton.

Nina, playing the contrite angel, murmured, "I'm fine. Sorry to disturb your work."

My face hardened. The truth snapped into place: they were protecting each other. I had been foolish to expect a man I'd known so briefly to stand with me.