Rebecca’s POV
There stood Clara. She looked like a nightmare. Her white dress was ripped, her hair was a mess, and her face was covered in bruises. She looked as if she had crawled through hell to get here.
The guests gasped. I heard my father jump up from his chair. People started whispering frantically, looking from the bloody woman at the door to me, standing at the altar in her place.
Enzo’s hands dropped from mine. He took a slow step toward her, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Clara?" my father’s shaky voice asked.
"That... is not... me!" Clara panted, her chest heaving. She pointed a trembling, dirty finger right at my face. Her eyes were burning with pure hatred. "She’s a liar! Rip off that veil and see the snake you’re really marrying!"
Enzo didn't wait. He turned back
