My Groom’s Mistress Tried to Burn Me Alive

The Plaza Hotel's bridal suite was bathed in soft morning light as I stood before the ornate mirror. My reflection stared back at me—eyes bright with anticipation, cheeks flushed with excitement. Today was supposed to be the beginning of forever.

"You look beautiful," my makeup artist had whispered just moments ago. "Caspian won't know what hit him."

I smiled, touching the delicate lace of my custom Vera Wang gown. Ten years of love, of building a life together, all culminating in this perfect day. My fingers trembled slightly as I adjusted my veil.

"I'm just nervous," I whispered to my reflection, trying to calm the flutter in my stomach.

The lights above me flickered once, twice. I frowned, glancing upward.

"Caspian?" I called, thinking he might have ignored my request for privacy and sneaked in to see me before the ceremony.

The room fell silent. Too silent.

I turned toward the doorway, but before I could take a step, strong hands gripped my shoulders from behind. A woman's body pressed against mine, her breath hot against my ear.

"Don't scream," she hissed.

I opened my mouth to do exactly that, but her grip tightened, spinning me around and dragging me toward the connecting door that led to a service corridor.

"Let me go!" I struggled against her, but she was surprisingly strong.

"Quiet," she commanded, pulling me into the dimly lit corridor. "We don't have much time."

I finally got a good look at her face and froze. My heart stuttered painfully in my chest.

It was me—but not me. An older version of myself, lines etched around her eyes, a hardness in her expression that I'd never seen in my own mirror.

"Elyse," she said, using my name as if it were a weapon. "I don't have time to explain everything."

"Who are you?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Twenty-five years from now, you." She pulled me further down the corridor, away from the bridal suite. "I've come back to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life."

I laughed, a high, nervous sound. "That's impossible."

"Isn't it?" She reached down and pulled up her dress, revealing a jagged scar on her thigh—identical to one I'd received during a childhood accident. "Only you know about this scar, Elyse. Only you."

My mind reeled as she produced a tablet from a small bag slung across her body.

"Look," she said, her voice softening slightly as she handed me the device.

The screen illuminated my face as I hesitantly pressed play on the first video file. My breath caught in my throat.

There, in high-definition clarity, was Caspian—my Caspian—in bed with Reyna. His hands tangled in her hair as he kissed her with a passion I hadn't seen in years.

"Where did you get this?" I whispered, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through folder after folder.

"Digital graveyard," she said grimly. "Five years of evidence. Vacations you paid for. Hotels you booked. And this—" she tapped a