Shredded My Dress, Shattered Our Vows

The car door flew open, and a familiar figure appeared.

But I couldn't hold on anymore. The acid's bite felt like ants devouring me from the inside, my vision blurring. My hands, sticky with blood, pressed against my abdomen, the dark red staining my dress like a wilted rose.

"Brother, help!" I cried out with every ounce of strength I had left.

Chris sprinted toward me, and Vanessa's gaze flicked to him. She sneered, "Your brother or your lover? This is Thompson territory, and I'm untouchable here."

Chris ignored her, rushing to my side and scooping me up gently. His hands trembled with rage, though his touch was steady.

"I'm Chris Lopez! Who the hell hurt my sister?" His voice dripped with menace, his icy gaze sweeping the room.

The crowd's jeers stopped instantly, the bridal shop now a tomb except for my stifled groans.

Vanessa froze, then puffed up her chest. "I did, so what? My husband is Clarence Thompson. Touch me, and he'll wipe out your whole family!"

I coughed, blood splattering Chris's shirt, stark against the white. I asked weakly, "You didn't bring guards?"

The pain was unbearable, my consciousness slipping, but I continued, "Her knife had acid. I can't hold on."

Chris's voice softened, but the edge remained. "I was nearby, closing a deal without security. Dad is on his way with backup. He'll be here within ten minutes."

His eyes locked on my wound, murder in his gaze. "Who the hell dares to mess with the Lopez heiress?"

He stepped toward Vanessa. "Clarence Thompson, huh? You're his wife?"

"Damn right!" she shot back, whipping out her phone with a smug grin. "You think you can throw his name around? I'm calling him to break your legs."

I grabbed Chris's sleeve and shook my head, eager to see what Clarence would choose, his mistress or interests.

"Hospital first," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Vanessa blocked our way, cooing into the phone, "Babe, some guy named Chris Lopez says I bullied his sister and wants to kill me. Come save me!"

Clarence's voice crackled through. "Who has got the guts to mess with you? Where are you?"

"At the bridal shop you opened for me," Vanessa replied, her eyes gleaming with malice. "He says he'll make the Thompsons pay."

Clarence paused. "Who? Chris Lopez?"

"Yes." Vanessa raised her chin. "He is with Kimberly, and he says..."

"No way!" Clarence's voice spiked with disbelief. "You fought with Chris? You sure it's him?"

I gave a bitter smile, the pain in my gut dwarfed by the ache in my heart. He didn't mention a word about me. He only feared Chris's power.

Our relationship was nothing but a joke. He'd even ignore my texts.

My body went limp, nearly slipping from Chris's arms. He tightened his grip, roaring into the phone, "She stabbed my sister, and you're saying it's a mistake? Get your ass over here!"

Vanessa hung up with a smirk. "Some nobody trying to scam the Thompsons? Clarence doesn't even know you."

She waved a hand, summoning a dozen goons with steel pipes. "Even if you're some distant Lopez members, you think you can take us on?"

Chris set me down and turned to face them, but I staggered to my feet, grabbing a pair of fabric shears from a nearby table. "Anyone coming closer is done!"

I pointed the scissors at Vanessa, blood dripping from my hands, but I no longer felt the pain. My heart pounded in my chest, and my eyes blazed with hatred. "You want me dead? I'm taking you with me!"

I lunged, driving the scissors toward her abdomen. Vanessa's scream echoed through the shop like a banshee's wail.

Vanessa's scream was ear-piercing. Blood gushed through her fingers, staining her white dress.

"Bitch! You stabbed me?" she shrieked, her hair a tangled mess. "Get them! Kill these bastards!"

I raised the scissors to strike again, but a goon kicked me hard, sending me crashing into the dress rack. The impact tore my wound open, and I nearly blacked out from the pain.

Chris threw himself over me, shielding me as another goon's knife slashed down, cutting deep into his arm. Blood sprayed, soaking his shirt.

"Chris!" I screamed.

Vanessa pointed at us, yelling, "Shut them up! Cut them into pieces! My husband is Clarence Thompson! Whatever happens, I've got this!"

The goons closed in, their blades glinting. Chris stood firm, his voice shaking with fury. "The Thompsons, huh? Now this is war!"

Another knife struck, slicing into his abdomen. He grunted, blood spilling onto me, hot and metallic. A goon swung a chair, smashing it over his head.

Chris collapsed onto me, his weight heavy. His blood blurred my vision, my cries mixing with the goons' shouts.

"Chris! Wake up!" I cried.

A goon kicked me in the back, and I hit the floor beside Chris, his blood smearing my face.

When I came to, I was trapped in a glass enclosure on a rooftop. The summer sun blazed, turning the space into an oven.

My skin burned, sweat and blood evaporating into a crusty layer. My limbs were bound with rope, and a rag was stuffed in my mouth, silencing my cries.

"Awake, huh?" Vanessa loomed over me, smirking. "Back in the day, sluts like you got drowned in cages. Too bad I didn't finish you off."

I made muffled noises, the rag soaked with blood. From the corner of my eye, I saw Chris lying nearby, his blood baked into a dark stain on the ground.

"Chris!" I tried to scream, tears evaporating as soon as they fell.

"Quit whining," Vanessa said, grinning. "Clarence called me. He's coming to settle the score."

She crouched down, looking at me like I was trash. "What will he do when he learns you hurt me? Bet he'll kill you to make me happy."

She waved to her goons, who dragged in buckets of glowing charcoal. "Let me warm you up a bit, so you won't be cold bodies."

The heat in the glass box skyrocketed, my hair singeing, my lungs choking on the fumes. I vomited blood, but the rag forced it back down, burning my throat. I thrashed, but the ropes cut deeper, drawing blood that dried instantly on my skin.

Just then, my phone rang. Clarence's name lit up the screen.

I glared, writhing to reach it. With my hands tied, I swiped the screen with my face, finally hitting the answer button.

"What's with the drama?" he sulked. "I told you I'd handle the wedding plans."

I wanted to scream that I was done with him, that he could save me now, and we could part ways cleanly. But the rag choked my words into garbled sounds.

Vanessa noticed, her face twisting. "Who are you talking to?"

She lunged for the phone, but I pressed it to my chest, refusing to let go. The charcoal's heat rolled over me, my body dehydrating and my eyelids heavy.

Only rage kept me going. "Clarence, you'd better pray Chris and I make it, or you are going down with Vanessa!"

Clarence's voice crackled through the phone. "Know your place! You're just a pawn your family used to tie me down, a bonus for our deal. Don't think I'll grovel to please you."

My teeth clenched, my eyes burning with fury. So, that was what I was to him. We had been together for seven years, and I was just a bargaining chip.

He conveniently forgot who backed him when he was nothing and who helped him build his empire step by step.

My muffled sobs caught in my throat as I thrashed, my fingers fumbling across the phone. Finally, the speakerphone clicked on.

"Claren..." I started, but Vanessa snatched the phone.

"Who told you to answer her call?" she screeched. "She stabbed me with scissors and now plays the victim to trick you. Come deal with her!"

I laughed, bitter and raw. "What are you so scared of? You think Clarence is some saint? He's sweet now because you're useful. When you're not, you'll end up worse than me."

"No way!" she shot back, pulling a certificate from her bag and throwing it in my face. "Look! Clarence and I are married, and you're a homewrecker."

In the photo, Clarence held her close, his smile warm, but it made my blood run cold.

His pursuit and promises to me were all to secure my family's resources. I was his biggest investor. I should have seen his busy work was a cover for cheating.

"For a snake like him," I gave a hollow laugh. "I gave him seven years and almost died."

"You've got the nerve to laugh?" Vanessa grabbed my hair, slamming my head to the ground. "You wrecked my marriage and think you're the victim? Clarence spent money on you, and you used it to seduce other guys?"

She pointed at Chris, who was unconscious on the ground. "Today, you'll see what happens to homewreckers!"

She turned to the goons. "Get the gasoline and burn them alive."

"No!" I screamed, struggling so hard the ropes cut into my wrists, blood streaming. "You do this, and even Clarence can't save you. My dad will bury your family!"

She ignored me, splashing gasoline over Chris. The fumes mixed with the charcoal heat, choking me. As she lit a match, I thrashed harder, snapping the ropes. Blood poured from my wrists.

"Chris!" I dove at him as the match hit, flames erupting with a roar.

Chris woke, screaming in agony, "Stay back! It's hot!"

The moment my hand brushed his coat, my skin flared into a searing pain. But I couldn't abandon him. He was my only brother, the one who'd risked everything to protect me.

I threw myself forward and used my body to smother the flames. Pain lanced through my back as it caught fire, darkness swimming in my vision.

"Silly girl, don't worry about me," he croaked, pushing me with the last bit of strength. "Dad is almost here. Stay alive."

"I won't!" I sobbed, clinging to him as the flames ate my hair. "I trusted Clarence and lost everything. I can't lose you, too!"

Vanessa laughed maniacally. "So touching! Don't worry. I'll mix your ashes."

She raised another gas can.

"Stop!" Two voices rang out—one panicked, one commanding.

I looked up and saw Clarence standing at the rooftop entrance, his face pale. Behind him was my dad, Roger Lopez, in a black suit.

His face was dark with rage. A dozen security guards flanked him, their guns loaded.

"Dad!" I cried out.

Roger rushed forward, while the guards doused the flames with extinguishers. His fists clenched, his veins bulging at the sight of burned skin.

"How dare you touch my family? You're done!" he snarled.

Vanessa collapsed, scrambling to Clarence. "She stabbed me first. Tell him."

Clarence shook, his face ashen. His fear was laughable.

The fire had burned away my love. Now, it was time to settle the score.

I staggered to my feet, declaring, "Clarence, our engagement is over!"

"I'm sorry, Kimberly," he stammered. "I failed to protect you. Give me one more chance."

Roger kicked him aside, then softened toward me. "Kimberly, don't be scared. With me here, no one is touching you again."

He turned to Clarence and growled, "You hurt my children? Big mistake! I'm coming for blood!"