REBIRTH: THE TYCOON DEVOTED WIFE

On the outskirts of Johannesburg, South Africa, two exquisite mansions are located at the heart of the town, and a medieval tower by the side. Covered in creepy vines, an inconspicuous bridge diminished horizontally to the emblem of its status, blending seamlessly into the landscape. Varieties of brands of cars decorated the simplicity of the environment. Elites from different parts of the world were invited to the get-together alliance of two famous influencers, Amelia Hawn and Chester West. As soon as the church hall became sonorous, the long-awaited ceremony commenced. Not a second after, the guests ascended to their feet as standbys once the bride embellished her presence. She was as pale as a candle and yet so beautiful as a rose in full bloom. Her diamond dress tapered her waist with a delicate flaw when she trudged into the boisterous hall with a pleased smile adorning her face. The messy bun of her blonde hair quietly tied to the side of her head was meticulously attached to her veil in a nuanced manner, and her red lipstick struck her extravagant beauty, indeterminately, riveting. “Are you nervous, my dear?” She concisely nodded, her eyes moving to the man beside her, who, instead of her late father, was escorting as her chaperon. She was ecstatic with the mode of arrangement. “A little excited, uncle.” She answered shyly, her fair-skinned cheeks camouflaged with rosiness. “Amelia, you will soon be tied into a life-lasting relationship with the man you love. Don’t be anxious. Stand firm,” The man cleared his throat to express. “Yes” The man, her father's younger brother, Mr. Theodore Hawn, happily walked his niece down the aisle. He kissed her cheeks before linking her hand to the larger ones of her soon-to-be husband, Chester West. Chester looked at his bride and squeezed her hand in his. He lifted his lips into a broad affectionate smile as the priest began the wedding rite. After exchanging their vows with one another, the priest began to recite the holy matrimony; “Since you intend to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his church.” They both joined their right hands. “Do you, Chester West, take this young woman as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death do you two apart, according to God’s holy law” “I do,” replied Chester, his expression dazzled with enthusiasm. An enthusing clap of applause rose from the multitude as the groom slid the ring onto the fingers of his bride. In a while, the hall quietened. “And do you, Amelia Hawn, take this gentleman as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death do you two apart, according to God’s holy law” The woman’s heart galloped against her chest. She was overwhelmed with emotions so thick and irresistible. She was finally his. His only, and no one else. In a heartbeat, she answered, “I do.” The ring bearer passed the ring to her, in which she slithered the marriage token into her soon-to-be husband’s finger. The couples exchanged smiles of contentment. “Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in the holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” acknowledged the priest. Comparatively, he and the mass inside the church waited for an objection. When none came forth, he cleared his throat to pronounce. “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and w….” “NO!” “STOP... THE WEDDING!” “She’s an imposter. I am the bride, Amelia Hawn, and that is my sister, Eileen Hawn.” A duplicate of the facial mannerisms of the bride abruptly materialized before the church, obtruding the priest’s declaration. The woman was noticeably distressed as her shoulder dropped drastically, and her chest heaved concurrently. She was the twin of the bride. The sole issue at hand was the dire noteworthy resemblance between the two women. “Chester, she’s fooled you. All of you. That’s Eileen!” The twin scurried barefooted to her sister and ripped the veil over her hair off, which, in turn, evoked a catastrophe. A flimsy, formidable tragedy in the eyes of the onlookers. “Eileen, what is this madness? I love Amelia and not you.” Infuriated by the disruption of the woman, Chester pushed her to the ground, stopping whatever she was attempting on his bride’s hair. “Priest, please continue. End the nuptial rites.” “Eileen, come with me. NOW!!!” Uncle Theodore excused himself from his seat and wrapped his hand in the slender arms of his second niece. That’s when something hit him, rendering him speechless. “Amelia?” He called, his eyes playing a severe trick on him. With a spontaneous spin, he laid his eyes on the back of the bride; his eyes narrowed. Amelia blinked her eyes, the invisible tears now falling fervently. Her heart was shattered and betrayed. Taking a closer look at her, Uncle Theodore’s eyebrows contorted in disbelief. “It’s me, uncle. Amelia and that is Eileen, I swear it. She must have dyed her hair and worn contact lenses. She is an imposter” “I now pronounce you both, husband and wi…” “WAIT!!” The priest hissed about being hindered the second time in the presence of God. His face was stressed by the unstable guests, promptly buffering incoherent gossip. “Eileen, get down from the altar.” Uncle Theodore yelled. He noticed the shudder of her shoulders and felt the more disappointed. She had them fooled by her craftiness.