Chapter 12

Someone said, "Hey, look over there. Isn't that the bride? Why is she walking around the hall dressed like that?" "You didn't notice? The name on the invitation has changed. It's Nicole and Matthew now." "Wait, isn't Nicole Natasha's younger sister? What kind of sick joke is this—swapping the bride from the older sister to the younger one?" It only took one comment before the whispers spread like wildfire. The ceremony hadn't started yet, but Natasha held her head high, her back straight, and offered a polite smile to the crowd as if none of it touched her. Just then, a staff member appeared from the corner and leaned in to whisper by her ear, "You must be Ms. Bradley. Mr. Foster is waiting for you backstage." Natasha raised a brow, confused. She wasn't sure why Zachary wanted to see her, but their recent interactions meant a degree of familiarity now existed. What if he had something important to tell her? She followed the staff member to a side hallway, but as soon as she turned the corner, the staff member had vanished. Natasha frowned, her gaze sweeping the dim hallway. He had been the one who asked for her, yet now he was nowhere in sight. It felt more like a setup, like he was playing some kind of game. "Mr. Foster?" she called out, stepping into a dimly lit room. When no one answered, she turned to leave—only to bump right into someone. "Ugh!" Nicole let out a soft yelp and staggered back, leaning dramatically against the wall like some delicate porcelain doll. Natasha's expression immediately soured as she looked at Nicole, who was dressed in a perfectly polished traditional dress. Her appearance stirred no emotion within Natasha. She was about to walk away when Nicole's voice stopped her. "Nat, it's my wedding day. Can't you at least wish me well?" Natasha scoffed. "You think I'd bless you for stealing my wedding? Nicole, where do you even get the nerve?" Nicole replied, "Compared to you? I'm still holding myself back. At least I didn't try seducing Zachary." As soon as she said it, she noticed Natasha casually stretching her wrist. Natasha said, "Did I hit you too hard last time? Do you want me to fix that memory for you?" When Matthew spoke those words yesterday, Natasha knew it was her spreading more lies. "Oh, come on, I saw you and Zachary at a restaurant having lunch—sitting way too close, looking very cozy. Are you denying it now?" So that was what gave Nicole so much confidence. Natasha finally understood. "Sorry to break it to you, but not everyone's like you. Just because we had lunch doesn't mean something happened." She was about to leave but paused. She still had more to say. "And so what if I did seduce Zachary? I'm single, and he's single. "We wouldn't owe anyone an explanation. That's still more respectable than being caught as someone's mistress. "Maybe worry less about who I'm seeing and more about whether this wedding of yours will go through." With that, she gave a knowing smile and walked offstage. Nicole wore an expression that seemed like she had outsmarted herself, watching Natasha's retreating figure. Back in the banquet hall, Natasha took a deep breath. For a moment, she wondered if she had gone too easy on Nicole. The music shifted into something festive. Matthew entered from the grand doors, holding a bouquet forged entirely from gold. Natasha had once warned him it was tacky and likely to get stolen. But he had just laughed and said anyone who needed to snatch a few ounces of gold didn't belong at their wedding. After all, every guest at their wedding belonged to the upper crust of society—wealthy, powerful, and used to luxury. Moments later, Nicole walked in with her face veiled, escorted by Henry down the aisle. Everyone assumed the ceremony would proceed as planned, but Nicole lifted her veil just after the officiant finished his opening remarks. She said, "I know many of you are confused. You're wondering why I'm standing here instead of Natasha. And while I know what I've done isn't fair to her, I just don't want anyone misunderstanding me." Standing below the stage, both Natasha and Zachary wore nearly identical expressions—brows raised, heads tilted, completely puzzled. Then came an audio recording, playing loud and clear over the speakers. It was a conversation—supposedly between Natasha and Nicole. Nicole said, "Nat, I didn't do anything wrong. Why are you treating me like this?" Natasha replied, "That's right. I seduced Zachary first, so I don't want Matthew anymore." The audio was disturbingly well edited. The technology was so advanced that no one could tell it had been faked. But Natasha had never said those words, and she sure wasn't going to take the fall for them. A spotlight had silently landed on her at some point, and now she was the center of everyone's attention. "Nat, I'm sorry. I know this might hurt you. But I can't stay silent anymore—not when my reputation is on the line. "I truly love Matthew. I can't let people keep believing I stole him from you, and I won't let people look down on me." Nicole's emotional speech brought a few guests to tears. She had always been good at this—playing the victim with heartbreaking precision. With the microphone in her hand, she had control of the narrative, and she knew it. Zachary's expression darkened as he stormed over to the control booth, redirecting the spotlight away from her. Someone shouted, "Say something, Natasha! You made a mistake—own up to it! Your sister's already gone this far for you." "No wonder the Bradley family doesn't like her. If I were them, I wouldn't tolerate a manipulative girl like her either." "She's still so young but already so ruthless. Didn't want to get married, so she made her sister take her place? I've never seen anything this messed up." The chorus of condemnation came like waves—loud, biting, and all too familiar. Natasha had been through this before, each time thanks to Nicole's setups. Just as the room buzzed with anger, the screen behind Nicole lit up with a video. "As long as you wear the veil and marry into the Foster family for Natasha, everything else will fall into place. Once it's done, there's no turning back…" The familiar words, the familiar voices, and the heavy, unsettling breaths echoed throughout the banquet hall. Everyone knew exactly who the voices belonged to. "This is outrageous!" Steven stood from his seat. He slammed his cane against the floor. His face had gone pale with rage, and for a second, it looked like he might collapse. "Get Mr. Foster Senior a doctor! Now!" Panicked, Matthew rushed toward the control booth to cut the video. But no matter what he did, it wouldn't stop. Standing on the stage, Nicole desperately tried to block the screen, but it was a projection—there was nothing she could do to cover it unless the power was cut off. The crowd below was in an uproar. With the evidence now on display, it was clear who was truly at fault. Only when Matthew yanked every wire from the console did the screen finally go dark. Standing on stage, Nicole looked dazed, her mind spinning. Matthew shouted, "This video is fake! Natasha, I never thought you'd stoop this low. It's fine if you hate me, but how could you ruin Nicole's reputation like this?" Matthew turned all the blame onto Natasha once again. She hadn't released the video, but she was the one who had to take all the blame. Nicole was snapped back to her senses by Matthew's words. Things were already falling apart. With a scandalous video out there, there was no point in holding back. If she was going down, Natasha wasn't going to walk away unscathed. She stormed off the stage, marching straight toward her. Natasha said, "This wasn't me!"