Chapter Two
808 Words
“I have a plan. Trust me.”
That was all Ariana said before she hung up.
Had no plan to rescue my self so I trusted her half way.... but was praying endlessly that it doesn't work out no matter what
I stared at my phone like it might explain everything. It didn’t. Just a dark screen reflecting my tired face and a tear-streaked mess of confusion. I had no idea what she meant, but something in her voice told me she wasn’t joking.
And knowing Ariana… that could mean anything.
I barely slept that night.. my mind wasn't at rest ...I was already creating fake scenarios in my head..I hardly even didn't notice that it was morning already.
The house was quiet, too quiet, and my parents were moving like they had something to celebrate. My mom was picking out color palettes and hairstyles. My dad was buried in financial paperwork—probably calculating the ROI on selling his daughter off to some rich stranger in a tailored tux.
By morning, everything was set. I was apparently going to be a bride.
To a man I hadn’t even met properly.
The venue was expensive and soulless.
Crystal chandeliers. A massive floral archway. Champagne towers that sparkled under dimmed gold lighting. The whole thing felt like a magazine shoot I never signed up for.
People kept complimenting my dress like it was supposed to make me feel better.
Like being trapped in lace and heels was somehow enough to make this marriage okay.
I was in the bridal lounge staring at myself in the mirror. I looked like someone else. Perfect makeup, flawless hair, a dress that cinched my waist like I belonged in a billionaire’s fantasy.
But I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt… betrayed.
Someone knocked softly on the door. “Five minutes, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
I clenched my jaw.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
Ariana :"You good?"
I didn’t respond. I just typed:
“You better show up. Please.”
The ceremony began.
Guests sat, drinks poured, music played. Everyone looked like they were having the time of their lives—everyone except the bride.
I spotted him—Tom. Tall, expensive-looking, smug as hell. He laughed with his groomsmen like this was a victory lap.
When our eyes met, he gave me a wink.
My stomach turned.
“Why don’t you smile for your husband-to-be?” someone whispered behind me.
I didn’t answer.
And then… she walked in.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Ariana said casually, slipping past the event coordinator like she owned the place.
I blinked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She smirked. “Didn’t I say I had a plan?”
“I’m five minutes from marrying a human trash can, and this is your plan?"... I said silently
She tapped her phone. “Oh honey, you’re not marrying anyone today.”
Before I could question her further, there was a commotion outside.
The doors burst open.
Three black SUVs rolled up to the venue with a quiet authority that silenced the music. Guests started murmuring. A few men in dark suits stepped out—sharp, serious, and wearing the jackets of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
My heart stopped.
Ariana folded her arms, grinning like she was watching her favorite drama unfold live.
The lead agent spoke into a mic. “We’re looking for Thomas Whitmore.”
Heads turned. Tom froze.
“That’s me,” he said, confused but cocky. “Is there a problem?”
“You’re under arrest for interstate drug trafficking and wire fraud.”
Gasps. Cameras. Screams.
Tom’s mother stood up, shrieking, “This is a mistake! My son is a businessman!”
The agents didn’t flinch.
They cuffed him. The groomsmen scattered. Paparazzi at the gate started flashing cameras.
I just stood there—stunned, shaking, and oddly… relieved.
“What did you do?” I asked Ariana, barely breathing.
“Called in a favor,” she shrugged. “Tom’s been under investigation for over a year. I just tipped them off about today’s location. Boom.”
“You’re telling me my almost-husband was—”
“New York’s smoothest drug front. Yup. And your parents were handing you over like a deal-closing bonus.”
I didn’t know whether to scream or laugh.
But I did laugh. A lot. The kind that comes from deep in your chest when you realize you almost made the biggest mistake of your life.
“You’re insane,” I told her.
“I know,” she grinned. “You’re welcome.”
We walked out of that venue like we were walking out of a burning building—with relief, smoke, and one hell of a story.
My wedding was ruined. My reputation probably wrecked.
But for the first time in a long time…
I felt free.
- Writer
