Bride Unveils Groom's Secret

The bridal boutique's mirrors reflected a woman I barely recognized—a woman in white, draped in lace and silk, preparing to marry the man she loved. Tomorrow, I would become Mrs. Henrik Wells. My fingers trembled slightly as I smoothed the delicate fabric of my wedding dress, imagining Henrik's face when he saw me walking down the aisle.

"Perfect fit, Miss Griffin," the seamstress said, pinning the hem. "You're going to be the most beautiful bride New York has ever seen."

I smiled, touching my mother's wedding ring that hung on a chain around my neck. It was the only piece of her I had left—the only thing that survived after she took those pills and ended her suffering. My father's betrayal had destroyed her, just as I feared Henrik's might destroy me if I ever gave him that power.

"Thank you," I said, turning to examine the dress from all angles. "I want everything to be perfect."

The boutique was quiet this afternoon, with only a few staff members whispering in hushed tones near the reception area. I was about to ask for one final adjustment when I heard a voice that made my blood run cold.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wells' other fiancée is scheduled for a final fitting tomorrow morning," a young assistant was saying into the phone, her voice low but clear in the empty shop. "Yes, Ms. Richardson. I understand it's confusing with two fittings so close together, but we've arranged everything as requested."

The room spun around me. Other fiancée? Richardson?

"Excuse me," I called out, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Did you just mention Henrik Wells?"

The assistant's face drained of color. "Miss Griffin, I—"

"Is there another woman fitting a wedding dress to marry Henrik Wells?" I asked, each word feeling like glass in my throat.

The silence that followed was answer enough.

---

Henrik's penthouse overlooked Central Park, a testament to his wealth and success. I'd always admired the view, but tonight it felt like looking at a beautiful but deadly landscape.

"You're engaged to Paisley Richardson," I said, standing in his living room where we'd once shared so many dreams. "While planning a wedding with me."

Henrik set down his whiskey glass, his expression unreadable. "It's a business arrangement, Nova. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" My voice cracked. "We're supposed to get married tomorrow!"

"And we will," he said, as if discussing a minor scheduling conflict. "The ceremony will proceed as planned."

"With you secretly engaged to another woman?" I laughed, the sound hollow and foreign to my ears.

He sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair. "Love doesn't secure empires, Nova. Paisley's family connections are... strategic."

Something shifted inside me then—a realization that the man I loved had never existed. In his place stood a stranger, cold and calculating.

"I'm pregnant," I whispered, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Henrik's eyes widened momentarily before his expression hardened again. "That's... unfortunate timing."

"Unfortunate?" I echoed,