Her glass shattered.

I walked toward Adrian.

He looked at me the way I had dreamed a man might look at me when I was sixteen and secretly convinced I was too difficult to love.

Not because of the dress.

Not because of the room.

Because I was walking toward him.

When I reached the altar, he whispered, “You’re terrifying.”

I smiled.

“You’re still here.”

“Wouldn’t miss this.”

Behind him, my mother and Vanessa looked ill.

The officiant stepped forward.

Then our wedding planner, Camille, touched his shoulder.

“We have one small presentation before we begin.”

My mother stiffened.

Vanessa leaned toward her.

“What presentation?”

The ballroom lights dimmed.

A screen descended behind the altar.

The first security video appeared.

1:14 a.m.

Vanessa walking into my bridal suite.

A murmur rolled across three hundred guests.

Then my mother appeared.

Together, they opened my garment closet.

Together, they removed the gown.

Vanessa laughed.

My mother held the garment bag while she carried it away.

Vanessa jumped to her feet.

“Turn that off!”

Nobody moved.

My mother rushed into the aisle.

“This is inappropriate!”

The audio grew louder.

“Once Claire sees you wearing her dress, she’ll fall apart.”

Gasps.

Then Vanessa’s voice.

“And if she still goes through with the wedding?”

My mother answered.

“Then we make sure Adrian learns the other secret.”

Adrian looked at me.

“What other secret?”

“I don’t know.”

My mother reached the control table.

“Stop this immediately.”

But suddenly the screen went black.

A new audio recording began.

And my own voice filled the ballroom.

“I don’t love Adrian.”

I stopped breathing.

Adrian’s fingers loosened around mine.

My voice continued.

“I need the marriage certificate.

Once I’m married, control of Bellmont transfers to me.”

Whispers exploded around us.

My knees nearly buckled.

Then:

“After that, I can leave him.”

Adrian released my hand.

Completely.

Vanessa smiled.

It was tiny.

Triumphant.

My mother turned toward me.

For the first time all evening, she looked relaxed.

“Claire,” she whispered loudly enough for nearby guests to hear.

“What have you done?”

I stared at Adrian.

His face was unreadable.

“Adrian—”

“Is that your voice?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you say those words?”

“I don’t know.”

Vanessa laughed.

“How convenient.”

I turned toward her.

She stood.

“Everyone deserves to know the truth.”

“The truth?”

“You were marrying him for money.”

Adrian looked toward the screen.

Then back at me.

The ballroom felt enormous.

Cold.

Three hundred people were watching my life collapse.

Exactly as my mother had predicted.

Then Camille spoke.

“Thank you.”

Vanessa frowned.

“For what?”

“For confirming you recognize the recording.”

My sister froze.

Camille pressed a button.

The screen changed.

Security footage.

Friday night.

11:48 p.m.

My mother and Vanessa stood in the small music room beside the library.

The camera angle showed them through the open doorway.

Vanessa sat at a laptop.

My mother stood behind her.

And from the computer speakers came my voice.

“I don’t love—”

Vanessa clicked.

Another fragment.

“Adrian.”

Click.

Another.

“I need—”

Click.

“the marriage certificate.”

Someone in the ballroom said, “Oh my God.”

Vanessa stopped breathing.

The footage continued.

My mother leaned toward the computer.

“Can you make it smoother?”

Vanessa nodded.

“Lucas showed me how.”

“And the part about leaving him?”

“I took that from her interview last year.”