Editor

Editor

I walked down the aisle with a split lip and a torn veil. My groom smirked at his friends. “She needed a reminder of who’s boss before we sign the papers,” he laughed loudly. The entire congregation, including his mother, chuckled. At the altar, he handed me a gold pen, expecting me to quietly sign away my late father’s $50M company. I didn’t cry. I calmly looked him in the eye, snapped the expensive pen in half, and reached deep into my bridal bouquet. The item I pulled out made his smug face go deathly pale.

The dried blood marked the corner of my mouth, poorly hidden beneath a thick layer of translucent powder and expensive setting spray. The heavy pearls embroidered onto my silk gown…
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