Two days before the wedding, Garrett’s mother showed up at my place unexpectedly.
Clutching a brown paper bag filled with bruised, discounted supermarket fruit, she made herself right at home on my couch, crossing her legs like she owned the place before barking out her
demands.
“Sienna, dear, we need to talk about a little family matter.”
“That apartment of yours was bought entirely in full before the engagement, wasn’t it? Well, now that you and Garrett are becoming one, it looks terribly unseemly to have a marital home under just one person’s name.”
“You need to add Garrett to the deed. When the family and friends see his name on it, they’ll know
what a beautiful, loving partnership you two have.”
I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug, letting the silence stretch between us without saying a
word.
“Even Roxy said it,” she sniffed, adjusting her posture. “A truly good woman never keeps secrets or
counts dollars against her man. Be a little generous, dear; that’s how you bring blessings into a
Auto-added to the Library marriage.”
Even Roxy said it.
A literal outsider was dictating the terms of my life, and this old woman saw it as an absolute
birthright.
I forced down the bile in my throat and conjured up the most docile, sweet smile I could muster.
“You’re absolutely right, Mrs. Miller. Just give me the property deed documents. I’ll head down to
the County Recorder’s Office tomorrow morning and get it processed.”
Garrett’s mother beamed, instantly pulling the title records straight out of her designer purse.
The old bat had been carrying the paperwork around with her all day, just waiting for the moment
to spring it on me.
I took the files, politely escorted her out, and the absolute second the front door clicked shut, the
smile vanished from my face like it had never existed.
I didn’t head to the registry office to add a name. I took the clean title straight to a high-end private equity lender for an immediate equity cash-out mortgage.
On an apartment valued at $3.8 million, I secured a hard-money loan of $2.6 million.
The wire cleared by the end of the day, and I immediately moved every single dollar into Maddie’:
personal account.
In my past life, Garrett had successfully forged the transfer documents after I was paralyzed, flipping the property and keeping every single cent for himself.
This time around, he wouldn’t even get to keep a single brick.
When I returned home, Garrett was miraculously standing in the kitchen, handing me a mug filled
with a dark, bitter herbal brew.
“Babe, you’ve been looking so pale and exhausted these past couple of days. I personally poured
you a glass of this premium bourbon on the rocks, infused with some relaxation supplements to help you rest. Drink up, get a deep night’s sleep tonight, and you’ll be the most stunning bride the day after tomorrow.”
I took the mug. Beneath the heavy scent of honey and herbs, the distinct, chemical tang of a heavy
sedative hit my nose.
This was the exact same drink he used to drug me in my past life-knocking me out cold for ten straight hours the night before the ceremony, giving Roxy all the time she needed to rip down the
decorations and set up that goddamn octagon cage.
I lifted the mug to my lips, faking a long swallow, and the split second his back was turned to rinse a spoon, I spat the entire mouthful into a fistful of napkins, shoving the soaked paper deep into my
coat pocket.
“Thanks, honey. It’s delicious,” I purred.
A flash of smug triumph crossed Garrett’s eyes.
“Good girl. Get some sleep; we’ve got the full dress rehearsal tomorrow.”
He grabbed his jacket, stepped out of the bedroom, and slipped into the guest room, locking the door behind him to make a phone call.
I pressed my ear flat against the drywall, catching his muffled voice perfectly.
“Roxy, she drank it. She’s going to sleep like a dead dog tonight. Everything’s locked in for the day
after tomorrow; there won’t be a single hitch.”
Roxy’s voice leaked through the receiver line. “Garrett, babe, when she steps into the cage, should I aim for her left temple first, or the right?”
Garrett chuckled, cold and heartless. “Whichever makes you happy, love. It won’t matter anyway-
once you’re done with her, she’ll be spending the rest of her miserable life in a wheelchair.”
i stepped away from the wall, walked back to my desk, and opened my laptop.
Methodically, I took every single piece of evidence I had painstakingly gathered over the past
month and arranged it into a chronological, high-definition PowerPoint presentation.
The title page read four simple words: THE GROOM’S TRUE FACE.
I configured a remote cloud timer, hard-coding the file to auto-play and broadcast directly into the main luxury ballroom’s projection network at the venue.
With everything set, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t a victim anymore. I was a razor-sharp blade, unsheathed and waiting in the dark.