Over the top of the cathedral, its stained-glass windows cast rainbow hues onto the marble floor. The air was thick with the scent of white roses, baby's breath, and burning candles, while gold chandeliers bathed the space in a warm glow. A string quartet played softly in the background, and elegantly dressed guests stood poised, their eyes flickering nervously toward the grand open doors.
The groom stood at the altar, swallowing hard in his starched tuxedo, but the priest, a hot-tempered man, didn't so much as blink. Then, as the first notes of the wedding march played, the large doors creaked open. Silence fell. The bride stepped forward—a vision in white—her veil streaming behind her like a strand of a dream.
Elena smiled, lost in her thoughts. She glanced around, taking in the beauty of the church.
She walked down the aisle, her white wedding gown flowing behind her like a river of silk. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it wasn't just from excitement.
Oh my God, I didn't expect so many people to be here today, she thought, glancing around and barely recognizing half the faces gazing at her. How is everyone here? I only invited a few. This must be Chloe's doing.
Still, a deep sadness crept into her heart as she thought of her parents. I wish both of you were here to witness this memorable day with me.
Dad, you always urged me to get married… even made it a condition for me to inherit your legacy. And now, you're not here to see it. Just a year ago, you left me all alone in this world.
Her throat tightened as thoughts of her mother surfaced.
Mum, Dad always said I took after you—in both looks and brains. But cancer took you from us, and then a cold, cruel accident took him too. Now, I have only Chloe… and Charles, the man I am to marry.
She half-turned, glancing over her shoulder at Chloe, who stood behind her, carefully holding up the heavy train of her gown. Chloe's touch was gentle, her smile warm—like a sister, ever watchful.
Elena's gaze shifted forward, settling on Charles. He stood tall at the altar, his tuxedo perfectly pressed. His dark eyes locked onto hers, a slow, teasing smile playing on his lips.
A familiar jolt ran through her body.
Come on Charles, just look away. I can't help it… not with those alluring eyes. The way he looks at me—as if I'm the only woman in the universe—it always makes me nervous.
Her hands trembled as she clutched the flowing fabric of her wedding gown. She nibbled her lip.
Even today, he can still soften me with just one smile, she thought.
Then, her mind flashed back to the night she met him…
It was Chloe's birthday party. Elena had been sitting at the bar, sipping her drink and chatting with Chloe, when a very handsome man approached.
"Happy birthday, Chloe." Charles smiled as he handed her a small, exquisitely wrapped gift. "I wouldn't miss today for anything—unless I wanted to be haunted for a lifetime."
"Wow, that's so sweet of you!" Chloe's eyes sparkled as she took the gift from him. "Thank you, Charles! Oh—let me introduce you. This is my best friend, El—"
Koff koff. Elena interrupted with a pointed cough before Chloe could say anything else, giving her a stern look that silently warned her not to even try.
A mischievous grin spread across Chloe's face. "Charles, keep her entertained, will you? I have other guests to see."
"Wait, you're not leaving me here alone, right?" Elena asked, her nervousness obvious.
"See you later, girlfriend," Chloe replied with a grin. And just like that, she vanished, leaving Elena alone with him.
"Hello, my lady," Charles said, his voice silky and cunning.
Elena barely spared him a glance, turning away with practiced haughtiness. She never let men in too easily. Her mother had always warned her—men saw women as nothing more than prey. Maybe that was why she could never understand how her mother had fallen for her father.
A soft laugh brought her back to the present.
…..
"Hello, princess," Charles whispered as she stepped up to the altar.
His voice was calm, yet laced with something inexplicable. Elena blinked, snapping out of her trance, and found herself standing before the man who had changed everything about her life.
Charles took both of Elena's hands, his touch warm and reassuring. His dark eyes softened as he gazed at her.
"Don't be afraid, my lady," he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. "Today, we are getting married."
A strange mix of emotions swirled inside her—love, anticipation, and something else she couldn't quite name. His hand felt like an anchor, grounding her in the moment. For all the second-guessing that had plagued her, here, with him, nothing else seemed to exist.
The priest cleared his throat loudly and began the ceremony.
"Elena Moretti, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love, honor, and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, till death do you part?"
"Elena took a quivering breath, her eyes locked onto Charles's.
'I do,' she whispered.
She barely had time to register the flash of heat in his eyes before the priest turned to Charles."
"Charles Laurent, do you take this woman—"
Bang!!!!!!!!!!
A deafening crash cut through the moment.
"The huge church doors burst open with a crash, slamming into the walls. A collective gasp filled the air as masked men, dressed entirely in black, stormed inside. Their heavy boots echoed against the marble floors, guns clutched tightly in their hands.
Screams erupted. Guests thrashed in their seats, clinging to loved ones. Panic flared. The choir froze, their soft song suspended in mid-air."
Then—BANG! BANG!
Bullets tore through the ceiling, sending chunks of plaster raining down as chandeliers trembled. A baby's wail pierced the chaos. People covered under the pews, trembling.
Elena stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs, clutching onto Charles, who also looked terrified at the sight of the masked men.
'Well, well, what a happy couple. Sorry for crashing your beautiful wedding,' one of the men said, marching swiftly down the aisle. Their faces were hidden behind masks. He stopped right in front of her, cocking his head to one side, as if something amused him.
'Sorry, sweetheart,' he said with feigned sympathy. 'You're not getting married today.'"
He raised his rifle before she could step back. The gun butt slammed into Charles's head with a sickening thud.
Elena gasped. 'Charles!'
His body crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from his temple.
'No! No, no!' She knelt, cradling his face, shaking him. 'Charles, wake up!'
One of the masked men dropped to his knees, gripping Charles under the arms."
Elena's hands flailed, clutching at him. 'Please! I'll do anything—money, property, whatever you want! Just don't take him!'
The man holding Charles laughed. 'You think money can fix everything, don't you?'
Then—SMACK!
A fiery slap sent Elena sprawling onto the cold floor. Pain exploded across her cheek.
Stunned, she raised a trembling hand, her ears ringing. The masked man crouched beside her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
'Stay down, princess.'
She watched in helpless terror as they lifted Charles and carried him toward the doors. Her chest burned, her breath coming in wild, uneven gasps.
'No!' She forced herself upright and ran after them.
A second volley of gunfire shattered the air. The deafening shots sent her stumbling back, crashing onto the floor."
Her screams echoed in the church as the men disappeared as quickly as they came, leaving destruction and shattered promises.
Guests rushed to her side, their words tumbling into desperate whispers.
'They'll find him, Elena! The police will get them!'
'As long as they didn't kill him, they would need him alive!'
'Who would do something like this? She's never had an enemy!'
Elena didn't hear them.
She sat there, her wedding dress pooling around her like a discarded flower, her eyes blinded by tears.
Her fists clenched.
A second ago, she was about to say 'I do.'
The next—her world shattered."