Wedding Turned into Mourning

"If she gets hurt, I'll make you pay!" Herbert bellowed.

I wiped blood from my lips, my stare icy. "Try it! Lock me away forever! The second I'm out, I'll drag Lori, you, and everyone who touched Gail to justice!"

He paused, my fury alien to him. Lori clung to his sleeve, sobbing, "The housekeeper said she had already called the police. They're coming. We can't let her keep this up. Why not..."

She pointed at the men who meant to "attack" her. "She's so high and mighty. Ruin her, and she'll be too ashamed to talk."

My heart raced at her words, but before I could speak, the housekeeper pinned me to the ground, her hand clamping my mouth. Herbert shook his head, rejecting the idea.

Lori bit her lip, tears flowing harder. "Fine, let me rot in jail. I'll throw myself off this roof right now. It's just a few photos. Think I'd let you get played like that?"

"Alright," Herbert relented, grabbing her hand.

Lori's tears vanished, a smug glint in her eyes. Chloe stepped up, eager to avenge Lori, slipping something into a glass of water and shoving me into a room.

Despair swallowed me as a group of men tore my wedding dress to shreds. The chaos grew louder by the second.

Outside, Herbert sat on the couch, closing his eyes and clenching his fists. When a soft hand grazed his, he snapped his eyes open to find Lori straddling him in lingerie, her body pressed against his.

"You're stuck on Mona because you've never had a real woman," she purred. "Let me show you what you're missing, big guy."

She kissed his stiff lips, her hands roaming. Herbert moved to push her off but paused when his fingers touched her waist. He pulled her closer, their kiss deepening into something hungry, shattered only by a rapid knock on the door.

Lori tumbled off, her eyes blazing with frustration. She threw on her clothes and scrambled after Herbert as he flung open the door, stopping dead.

There I stood, wrapped in a stranger's coat. The men who'd attacked me knelt, battered and bruised, begging for mercy.

Before Herbert could speak, the front doors were booted open with a thunderous crash. The housekeeper was thrown inside, crawling to Herbert's feet. "Sir, the estate is surrounded by a fleet of supercars."

John Woodard, clad in a sharp suit, stood in the doorway, his presence a storm ready to break. "Where is Mona?"

Lori sneered, sizing him up. "Here to save your little darling? Too late. She's busy getting frisky with some random guys."

John narrowed his eyes and, seeing me in his assistant's arms, slammed his cane down. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

A bodyguard strode forward and slapped Lori hard. "Show your respect to the heiress of the Woodard empire!"