My Fake Groom Is a Billionaire

Hallie took a breath that felt like swallowing glass. She gathered the heavy satin of her gown and pulled open the dressing room door, ignoring her mother's frantic plea.

The hallway outside was a stage of its own. Ethan's mother, Victoria Carlisle, and his sister, Claire, were pacing, their expensive gowns clashing with the fury on their faces.

Victoria descended on Hallie the moment she saw her. Her tone wasn't one of comfort, but of high-handed interrogation.

"Hallie, what is going on? What did you do to Ethan to make him do this?"

The accusation, so blatantly unjust, ripped a laugh from Hallie's throat. It was a cold, sharp sound. "You should be asking your perfect son that question, not the woman he abandoned."

Ethan's sister, Claire, a girl who had always dripped with jealousy, let out a piercing retort. "Stop pretending! You obviously pushed him too hard! My brother never wanted to marry you. He loves Lily!"

Hallie had long since learned Claire's role in the family: the spoiled younger sister, always envious of the attention Hallie received from Ethan.

"Claire!" Victoria snapped, a token reprimand. Her eyes, however, seemed to agree with every word.

"I pushed him?" Hallie's gaze, now like chips of ice, landed on Claire. "That's not what he said when he was on one knee, begging me to be his wife."

Claire flinched but recovered with more venom. "So what if he proposed? Men will say anything to get out of a tight spot! Did you really think you could marry into the Carlisle family?"

That line ignited the fuse. Hallie remembered three years of Claire's subtle digs, her condescending smirks, her constant reminders of Hallie's "ordinary" background.

Linda stepped forward, her maternal instinct finally overriding her fear. "Claire, show some respect! Hallie is the one who has been wronged today!"

Victoria shot Linda a dismissive glance. "Mrs. Wade, until we get to the bottom of this, perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to take sides." The implication was clear: Hallie was just as much to blame.

Emboldened by her mother's support, Claire stepped closer to Hallie, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial, venomous hiss. "I told you before, you don't deserve my brother. A teacher from a no-name family, trying to be a princess?"

She punctuated the insult by deliberately bumping her shoulder against Hallie's. A blatant, physical challenge.

The impact sent Hallie stumbling back. Her wrist hit the wall. The silver cloverleaf bracelet chimed against the marble—a fragile, lonely sound in the middle of all that fury.

Hallie's breath caught. She looked at Claire's face—that smug, untouchable face, and something inside her went very, very quiet.

She straightened up and raised her hand, saying nothing.

Crack.

The sound of the slap was sharp and absolute, echoing down the opulent hallway.

Time froze. Claire, hand pressed to her cheek, stared at Hallie with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Victoria and Linda were equally stunned into silence. No one had ever seen the gentle, sweet-tempered Hallie do anything remotely violent.

Hallie's palm stung. She looked at the red mark on Claire's cheek and felt nothing but the sting. Good. It meant she'd hit hard enough.

"That," she said, quiet, "was for the way you've always talked to me."

Claire finally found her voice, a shriek of outrage. "You hit me! I'll kill you!"

She lunged, but Victoria grabbed her, holding her back. Victoria's eyes fixed on Hallie, cold and shaking. "You're insane! Hallie Wade—you dare lay a hand on my daughter?"

Hallie met her gaze without flinching. "Insane? Your family drove me to it! Your son runs from his own wedding, and you come here to blame me? Is this the famous Carlisle family upbringing?"

Her voice, though not loud, carried. At the end of the hall, a few curious guests poked their heads out. Their whispers were like needles on Victoria's skin.

Victoria's face cycled through shades of red and white. Arguing here would only bring more shame upon the family.

Hallie watched their panicked retreat with cold satisfaction. A slap wasn't enough. She would tear the Carlisle family's precious reputation to shreds.

She turned away from the sputtering Claire and the furious Victoria. "Mom," she said, her voice now firm and clear. "I need you to do something for me."

Linda, seeing the unyielding fire in her daughter's eyes, simply nodded.

Hallie leaned in, whispering instructions in her mother's ear. Then she straightened up and faced the stunned wedding planner.

"Go tell the officiant the ceremony is delayed by thirty minutes," she commanded. "Tell him... the bride needs a moment to prepare a surprise."