Wedding Dress Betrayal

The pen scratched against the check with a steady rhythm as I signed off on another vendor payment. Three days before my wedding, and I was still handling mundane tasks like these. The irony wasn't lost on me—billions in pharmaceutical innovations under my direction, yet here I was approving office supply purchases.

"Georgina!"

The door to my office burst open with such force that the glass wall vibrated. Marcus Chen, our VP of Operations, stood in the doorway, his normally composed face drained of color.

"What is it?" I asked, setting down my pen. Something in his expression made my stomach tighten.

"Project Helios," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's down. Everything's gone."

I rose from my chair, the leather creaking as I stood. "What do you mean 'down'?"

"Data corruption event. Catastrophic. The servers—they're completely wiped. And it's triggered an automatic SEC investigation because of the public funding involvement."

The room seemed to tilt slightly. Project Helios was our billion-dollar flagship—the culmination of years of research, Sebastian's pet project, and the cornerstone of our upcoming merger announcement.

"Sebastian?" I asked, already reaching for my phone.

Marcus shook his head. "No one can find him. He was supposed to be monitoring the final test phase."

I grabbed my coat, already moving toward the elevator. "Get me the tech team. Now."

The R&D floor was chaos when I arrived. Screens flashing error messages, technicians frantically typing commands, the hum of servers replaced by panicked voices. I pushed through the crowd, my heels clicking against the polished concrete floor.

"Where is Dr. Tucker?" I demanded of the nearest technician.

"He—he wasn't here when it happened," the young man stammered. "We've been trying to reach him."

I checked my phone again—no messages. The project was his baby. Where could he possibly be?

"Ms. Reed," Marcus appeared at my elbow, his voice low. "We need to contain this. The press will get wind of it within hours."

"First we need to understand what happened," I replied, scanning the room. "And we need Sebastian."

My phone buzzed with a notification—Sebastian's location ping from the company tracking app. Relief washed over me until I saw where he was: my private executive suite on the top floor.

"Excuse me," I murmured to Marcus, already moving toward the elevator.

The penthouse suite was my sanctuary—a place few people had access to. Why would Sebastian be there during a crisis? The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and I stepped into the foyer.

Champagne bottles littered the marble floor. Two glasses, still half-full, sat on the coffee table alongside scattered clothing. My breath caught as I moved further into the room.

"Hello? Sebastian?"

No answer.

Then I heard it—the soft click of heels on hardwood, coming from my bedroom. I followed the sound, pushing open the door to find a woman standing before my full-length mirror.

Nevaeh Kelly. The intern from R&D. Wearing my wedding dress.

The Vera Wang creation I'd spent months perfecting was