7
1323 Words
The dead silence lasted only a few seconds before being swallowed by an even greater uproar.
The guest section exploded like a pan of hot oil, a mix of gasps, loud chatter, and even suppressed, excited chuckles. The reporters nearly broke through the security line, their telephoto lenses greedily aimed at the pale–faced Preston and at Silas and me, standing closely together on the stage.
“What is going on? Did the bride switch grooms?”
“Oh my god! Did the Calloway heir just get dumped at the altar?”
“Isn’t that the son from the Croft family? How did Seraphina end up with him…”
“Look at Preston’s face! Hahaha, brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!”
Felicity’s shriek tore through the air again. Forgetting all sense of decorum, she tried to rush the stage but was quickly stopped by security. “Preston! This is fake! It’s a trick by Seraphina! She’s crazy! How could she!”
Mrs. Calloway shot to her feet, pointing a trembling, furious finger at my father. “Marcus! What is the meaning of this?! Are you making a mockery of the Calloway family?!”
Mr. Calloway’s face was ashen. He grabbed his wife, who looked ready to faint, his dark eyes fixed on the stage, clearly struggling to contain his overwhelming rage and humiliation.
And at the center of the storm, Preston finally snapped out of his shock. His chest heaved violently, his usually cool and distant eyes now bloodshot, like a cornered, enraged beast. He stared at me, forcing my name out through clenched teeth.
“Seraphina!”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a cold, terrifying hostility that cut through the noise of the room and stabbed right at me.
Before, a look and a tone like that from him would have been enough to make my heart pound with fear, to make me instinctively shrink back and try to explain.
But now, I just stared back at him calmly, my gaze under the veil perfectly serene, even tinged with a faint mockery.
Silas took half a step forward, subtly shielding me behind him. He met Preston’s murderous gaze, his voice steady but carrying an undeniable strength. “Mr. Calloway, please watch your words. Today is my wedding to Sera.”
“Your wedding?” Preston scoffed as if he’d just heard the world’s biggest joke, but the sound was chilling. He glanced around the chaotic room, his eyes finally landing on my face like poison–tipped daggers. “Seraphina, you tell me what the hell is going on. You’d better give me a damn
good explanation!”
He finally dropped the pretense, his tone dripping with arrogant rage and condescending demand, as if I were still the same woman he could easily control, the one who had to bow to his every whim.
The emcee tried to regain control of the situation. “Ladies and gentlemen, please, quiet down…”
But no one was listening to him now.
I gently pushed aside Silas’s protective hand and took a small step forward, facing Preston from a few feet away. I could clearly see the veins throbbing on his forehead and the corner of his mouth twitching with extreme anger.
I raised my hand and slowly lifted the veil from my face.
12:45
Whoops, His Mistress Crashed Our Wedding. Mine Didn’t
42.9%
Chapter 7
My perfectly made up face was fully revealed in the light—no tears, no trace of hurt, only a cold, calm resolve.
I took the microphone the emcee handed me. My voice, amplified by the speakers, carried clearly to every corner of the ballroom, instantly silencing all the noise.
“An explanation?”
I repeated the words softly, looking at Preston, a faint yet powerful smirk on my lips.
“Preston, what do you need me to explain?“.
“Should I explain why the groom standing here isn’t you?”
My eyes swept over Felicity down below, her face pale as she struggled against security, and my voice suddenly turned icy with undisguised
scorn.
“Or do I need to explain why the wedding invitation, which was supposed to have the bride’s name ‘Seraphina Hayes‘ on it, magically changed to ‘Felicity Vance‘?”
The moment those words were out, the entire room gasped!
In an instant, every single eye in the room swiveled to focus on Felicity, who was still being held back by security!
Felicity froze, all the color draining from her face. A scream caught in her throat, turning into a choked, terrified whimper.
Preston’s pupils contracted sharply, a flash of panic crossing his face before he quickly composed himself and snapped, “What nonsense are you talking about! That was a mistake from the printing company!”
“A mistake?” I laughed as if I’d just heard the funniest joke in the world, the sound amplified by the microphone, carrying an endless, tragic sarcasm. “Was it really a mistake, Preston?”
My eyes locked onto his, and word for word, with chilling clarity, I repeated what I had heard outside his office that day, perfectly mimicking his flippant, careless tone.
“If my parents hadn’t been pushing so damn hard, insisting I find someone from the right background, the person I would’ve married would have been Felicity.“”
“She’s been putting up with my crap for years, she’s been wronged. This time… I’ll just consider it me owing her one. It’s fine to let her cause a scene, because anyway…“”
I paused, looking at Preston’s instantly ashen face, the horrified expressions on his parents‘ faces below, and Felicity, who looked like she was about to faint, and then I slowly delivered the final, heart–stabbing line.
“When the wedding day comes, the bride standing next to me is going to be Seraphina, one way or another. She can’t run. Does it really matter whose name is on the invitation?“”
The entire ballroom fell into a dead silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
Everyone was stunned into silence by the shocking turn of events and the raw, naked truth.
Preston looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. He staggered back a step, staring at me in disbelief, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
His greatest arrogance, his confidence, came from the certainty that I was devoted to him, that no matter how he treated me, I would swallow my pride and go through with the wedding as planned.
12:45
Whoops, His Mistress Crashed Our Wedding. Mine Didn’t
45.2%
Chapter 7
He had never imagined that I already knew everything, and that I would expose his hypocrisy and vileneas to the world in the most brutal, most
absolute way possible.
Looking at his completely shattered expression, I felt no joy, only a cold, desolate emptiness.
I put down the microphone and, without another glance at him, turned to face the guests–who were equally shocked, but mostly understanding and supportive–and gently took Silas’s arm.
Silas squeezed my hand tightly, his palm warm and strong.
The emcee took a deep breath, suppressing his excitement, and announced in the steadiest voice he could manage.
“It seems some misunderstandings need time to be cleared up. But for now, let us turn our attention to the happy occasion at hand. Mr. Silas Croft, do you take Miss Seraphina Hayes, who stands beside you, to be your lawfully wedded wife…”
The ceremony continued in an extremely bizarre and tense atmosphere.
And Preston, like a soulless statue, stood frozen in the spot that was supposed to be his, watching with his own eyes as Silas put the ring on my finger, listening as Silas said “I do” in a clear, loving voice.
His world, in that moment, completely fell apart.
- Writer
