I stare at the mirror, unable to stop myself from smiling. Every girl's dream is to get married to the man she loves. To see that dream being fulfilled gives you the type of joy that is surreal.
I've been dating Marcus for two years, and the day he proposed I was so over the moon. We've been planning this wedding for almost a year, and I find it hard to believe it's finally here.
"Oh my God, Leina. Stop crying or you'll ruin your makeup," Natalie tells me, as she arranges the final pin on my hair.
My eyes are a little red and my face is a little flushed.
I dab on the tears with a tissue and give a nervous smile.
"I can't help it, Nat. I'm just so excited. You know how long I've been waiting for this."
Natalie's smile is genuine. Unlike the one Cara gave me this morning. " I know, sweetie. But you should be happy. After today you become Marcus's wife and you get the inheritance your mother left for you."
A smile forms on my lips at the memory of my mother.
She was the only person who ever showed me what true love was. My heart clenches at the thought of how cruel she was taken from me. How ruthlessly she was killed.
How I miss her.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Natalie says, cupping my cheeks. "I didn't say this so you could start keeping sad faces. It's your wedding day for Christ's sake."
She's right. No tears on my wedding day.
I clean my tears and brighten up with a smile.
A knock comes on the door,, and my step mother steps in.
"It's time," Greta says.
I stand up and step out of the room, heart pounding nervously. Is this how every woman feels when getting married to something they love?
I get to the stairs and descend the grand staircase leading to our estate ballroom, with Natalie adjusting my dress all the way.
The chandeliers sparkle like captured diamonds. The ballroom is filled with thousands of guests, everyone gathered to witness the marriage of the year.
But something doesn't feel right.
My father's expression is tense and his eyes are shining with blazed fury. The guests are murmuring, and all staring at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. Standing beside Dad is Cara. She has that smug look, the one she maintains when she's done something evil.
At the altar is my husband. Posture stiff and phone in hand. He's clenching the phone so tightly I'm scared it might break under his impact.
I hurriedly descend the stairs and rush to the altar, almost tripping over my dress.
"Marcus, what's wrong? Why is everybody acting strangely?" I ask, confusion , gnawing and my insides.
"I should be the one asking you that, Leina. What is this?" Marcus thrusts the phone into my hands and I stare at it confused.
What I see there makes me want to throw up.
It's a sex video.
Not just any sex video, but one of me and someone I've never even met before. The moans, laughter and cries of pleasure that come out with the sound of my voice grates my ears.
My hands shake uncontrollably and I can't seem to get a grip of things.
"Father, I… I don't understand. What is this?"
Cara lets out a mocking laugh. "What is that? Are you so dumb that you need someone to spell out the obvious? Your sex video has been leaked sister. It's now obvious to everyone in here just how filthy you are."
"Hey! You do not get to talk to her that way." Natalie's voice seems too far away.
The only person I can focus on is Marcus, and how much hatred is in his gaze. His face is twisted in disgust, like just my presence irritates him.
"Marcus I…."
"Enough, Leina. I've seen and heard enough of you. All along I never knew I was in love with a whore."
"I swear, Marcus, you are the only man I've known." Desperation tugs at the edges of my voice. All I can do is hope he believes me. But the look in his eyes tells me he doesn't.
"Oh come on sister. We already know the truth. Just admit it." Cara says, mockery spilling from her tone in waves.
"I'm utterly disgraced and embarrassed to call you my daughter, Leina," father says. "You have shamed this family. As from today you are no daughter of mine."
Father walks towards me and tears off the veil covering my face. My eyes are blurry with tears, but I can make out the hate in his gaze.
"You are a disgrace. I banish you from this family. You have till tomorrow noon to get out of my house."
Then he walks away. Marcus follows him and so does Cara.
My eyes get even more blurry. Unable to hold the tears anymore I scream, pain searing through my veins.
Someone laughs, I can't tell who. Another throws a glass of champagne on me and through my ringing ears I can hear the word ''whore', echoing through the ballroom.
I pick up my dress in my hands, and run to the bridal suite, shutting the door behind me. I pick up something, I don't know what, and throw it at the mirror, shattering the glass.
The laughter of the guests still echoes in my ears, as I stand before the broken mirror, shards of glass littering the floor like the pieces of my life. My dress, once pristine and white, is now stained with spilled champagne and the handprints of those who tried to hold me back when I screamed.
My wedding day.
My coronation as the daughter of Charles Ashford, heiress of the empire. It should have been the beginning of everything. Instead, it is the end.
I see the betrayal over and over, replaying in my mind like a cruel film reel. My father's cold stare as he rips the veil from my head. My fiancé's mother spitting the word "whore" in front of everyone. The video, me, naked in a bed I never slept in, with a man I never touched.
Edited.
Falsified. But no one believes me.
Not my father.
Not my stepmother.
Not even my fiancé.
"You've shamed this family," Father's voice still cuts like a knife, sharper than any blade. "You are no daughter of mine."
I clutch the edge of the vanity until my knuckles turn white. Anger burns through the grief, a flame I didn't know I carried. They wanted to destroy me, and they succeeded. But not completely.
I won't die here, on this ruined night.
The door creaks open, and Natalie slips in. Her auburn hair is damp from the rain, and her eyes dart around the trashed room before settling on me. She's the only one who hasn't turned her back on me.
"Leina," she whispers, stepping over shards of glass to reach me. "We need to go. Now."
"Go?" My voice is hollow. "Where? My father disowned me. The press will shred me alive. I have nothing."
She grips my arms tightly. "You have me. And you have a way out."
Her words are quick, urgent, as she takes out a card from her purse and hands it to me.
"Here, this belongs to an old friend. He owns a club in Mexico. I'll tell him you're coming so he won't question you much. You can do bartending and stripping."
Mexico. The word tastes foreign, dangerous. But what do I have here? Nothing but ashes and humiliation. "Natalie, I…"
"You nothing, Leina. What are you scared of? Your dignballroom.pIis already gone, ripped away before thousands of witnesses?"
She's right I don't really have much to lose anyway.
She presses a ticket into my hand, already booked under a false name. "Take it. You'll die here if you don't."
I stare down at the flimsy piece of paper. A single boarding pass feels heavier than the entire weight of my ruined legacy.
"Here," she tells me, handing me a dress. "You should change. I already have a small bag packed."
I do as she says without wasting any more time.
My legs tremble as I follow her out, past the stares of workers cleaning the wreckage of the night. Each step feels like leaving a corpse behind, the corpse of the heiress I once was.
Hours blur into minutes. By the time I reach the airport, the world outside is still drowning in rain.
How fitting. The heavens mourn while my father celebrates my downfall.
"Be careful there. Mexico's a tiger's den," she tells me, eyes glazed with worry.
She pulls me into a tight hug, almost like she can't bear me leaving. When she pulls away there are tears in her eyes.
"I've placed some cash in the bag. Get a new phone and call me when you get to Mexico."
"Thanks for everything, Nat. How do I repay you?"
"Just get on that plane, survive Mexico and come back to show them they can't step on you and walk free." She pulls me into another hug before waving me away with a smile.
By morning, the whole city will know me as a whore.
On the plane, I sink into the seat by the window, fiddling with the hem of the hoodie Nat gave me. I press my forehead to the cold glass.
The city lights shrink beneath me as the plane lifts into the storm. New York falls away, its towers swallowed by clouds, and with it goes the last of my innocence.
My nails dig into my palm as I whisper a vow no one hears but me.
"I will never forgive them. And I will return. When I do, they will pay."
The engines roar, carrying me farther from everything I once knew, and closer to something else..Something darker, unknown, waiting.