Shredded My Dress, Shattered Our Vows

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!"