Wear My Dress, Meet My Gun

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?]

The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out.

Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked.

I didn't swoon. I froze.

Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago.

And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one.

I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background.

My hands were shaking when I called him.

"I wanna see the dress," I said.

He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later."

I just smiled and hung up.

That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella.

Total circus.

I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

Jella fired back right away: [What nonsense are you spewing? This was custom-made by my brother for me! A renowned designer did it himself. There's only one in the world! You country bumpkin, stop pretending you know anything!]

I grinned. So Zeke hadn't told her about our little arrangement.

His parents had called out of nowhere, panicked about the Santoro business tanking. After a long sob story, they finally dropped the real reason—they wanted to revive the old pact tying me to Zeke.

A marriage deal.

They were banking on my last name to save them. It tasted like ash, but I said yes. For Zeke.

I actually liked him.

When he found out, he got all emotional. Blew up my phone, reminiscing like we were some epic love story. Swore he'd stayed pure, just waiting for me.

And now? He was hooking up with his stepsister—and gave her my wedding dress.

Yeah, no. They weren't getting off easy.

I forwarded Jella the photo Zeke had sent me: [See? Isn't it exactly the same?]

She snapped back: [I don't believe you! Unless I see it with my own eyes, I won't believe it! Yours must be a fake!]

I grinned. [Then let's meet. We'll see who's real and who's not.]

She bit immediately: [Fine. Tomorrow at 3 PM. Meet me at the bridal design studio.]

I booked the earliest flight and started packing.

Didn't think she'd fall for it that fast. What a clown.

Zeke's taste had seriously tanked.

Not long after, he called. "Sorry, Natalia, the studio's closed. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to see the dress."

Right. More like he couldn't get it back from Jella and scrambled for a lie.

I just said, "Okay," and hung up.

***

The next afternoon, I showed up at the bridal studio right on time.

And Jella? She really rolled in wearing the damn dress.

The staff