20: The Proof Bride
1328 Words
Rain streaked the windows of the penthouse like falling glass. The city outside shimmered — a blurred mosaic of light and greed — as Amara sat at the edge of the bed, her wet hair clinging to her neck, her thoughts a storm of their own.
The words still echoed in her head:
You were never meant to be the bride — you were meant to be the proof.
Proof.
Of Eduardo Hollingsworth’s crimes.
Of Sebastian’s guilt.
Of every betrayal that had stitched her life together.
She looked down at her reflection in the window — a woman once desperate for love, now forged into something harder. Something dangerous.
She picked up the phone and opened the contact Celeste had sent earlier that night. It was encrypted — of course. Only one word appeared on the screen:
“Ready?”
Amara’s thumb hovered for a moment before she typed her reply.
“Yes.”
⸻
An hour later, she walked through the back entrance of the Hollingsworth Conservatory. The gala had long ended, the last guests gone. Only soft jazz drifted from the main hall, where staff cleared champagne glasses and swept glitter from the marble floors.
Celeste stood by the piano, her silver gown replaced by a dark trench coat, her hair loose. Without the cameras, she looked almost human — almost.
“Darling,” Celeste said, her tone smooth as velvet. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Curiosity kills slower than regret,” Amara replied.
Celeste smiled. “You’ve grown sharper. I like it.”
“Cutting things makes them bleed,” Amara said. “Let’s hope you’re ready to bleed too.”
“Oh, I always am.” Celeste motioned for her to sit. “We both want the same thing — Eduardo destroyed. But Sebastian? You’ll have to decide if you’re ready to lose him too.”
Amara sat, folding her arms. “He’s already lost.”
Celeste tilted her head. “You say that with conviction, but I wonder… do you hate him, or the part of you that still loves him?”
Amara’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about love.”
Celeste laughed softly. “Everything is about love, dear. Even revenge.”
⸻
Amara’s patience snapped. “Tell me what you know about Witness 21.”
Celeste’s smile faded. “So he told you.”
“He told me what he wanted me to believe.”
Celeste’s gaze sharpened. “Good. You’re learning.” She pulled a flash drive from her pocket and placed it on the table between them. “This is the rest of the story. The part Sebastian doesn’t have — because he helped erase it.”
Amara frowned. “Erase what?”
“The memory suppression files.” Celeste’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Veronica wasn’t the only one who tried to expose Eduardo. There was a scientist who helped her — the one who ran the neuro-memory division. He recorded the trial subjects, their recovery patterns, and the code that wiped their memories. You were one of his case studies.”
Amara’s stomach turned. “What happened to him?”
Celeste’s smile returned, faint and cruel. “He disappeared the day after Veronica died. Officially, suicide. Unofficially, he was buried beneath the new medical wing.”
“And the files?”
“In here.” Celeste tapped the drive. “Every name, every test, every erased memory. You, Amara, are living proof of what they did. That makes you the most valuable—and the most dangerous—person in this city.”
Amara’s breath hitched. “Why give this to me?”
“Because I want Eduardo to burn,” Celeste said simply. “And I want Sebastian to watch the flames.”
Amara narrowed her eyes. “And when it’s over? You get his empire.”
Celeste didn’t deny it. “Empires are built on bones. Better mine than theirs.”
⸻
Silence stretched between them, heavy with everything unspoken. Then Amara reached for the drive.
“I’ll take it,” she said. “But I don’t trust you.”
Celeste smirked. “Good. Trust is a weakness neither of us can afford.”
As Amara stood to leave, Celeste added softly, “Be careful, dear. The moment you open those files, Sebastian will know. They’re tagged to his security system.”
“Then let him come,” Amara said. “I’m done hiding.”
Celeste’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, I do love a woman who learns to bite.”
⸻
Back in her penthouse, Amara slipped the new drive into her laptop. The screen blinked to life, and a login prompt appeared — requiring biometric verification.
“Of course,” she muttered. She touched the corner of the screen, and the scanner glowed red.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The first document opened with a series of timestamps and voice logs.
She scrolled until one stood out, labeled: “Witness 21 – Final Evaluation.”
The voice that filled the room made her blood freeze.
Voice (Veronica): “Patient A. Initials A.E. Memory suppression successful. Secondary effects minimal. Emotional regression likely. She’ll remember fragments — dreams, flashes — but not the clinic or the program. I’m altering her release records to ensure anonymity.”
Voice (Male, Dr. Kavan): “She’ll remember eventually.”
Veronica: “Then God help us all when she does.”
Static. Then silence.
Amara sat back, shaking.
Veronica had saved her — not just once, but twice. And the man who had pretended to love her had kept that truth hidden.
The screen flickered again. A second file automatically decrypted. This one was video.
She clicked play.
Sebastian appeared — younger, clean-shaven, dressed in a lab coat. He looked nothing like the cold tycoon she’d married. He was standing beside Eduardo, holding a clipboard.
Sebastian (recorded): “The neural inhibitor works. She won’t remember.”
Eduardo: “Good. Then she won’t come back for vengeance.”
Sebastian: “And if she does?”
Eduardo: smiles faintly “Then we’ll remind her who saved her life.”
The screen went black.
⸻
Her chest felt hollow. Her pulse roared in her ears.
He had been there.
He had known.
The sound of the door unlocking behind her made her spin around. Sebastian stepped inside, drenched from the rain, his expression unreadable.
“You shouldn’t have gone to her,” he said quietly. “You’ve made yourself a target.”
“I’ve always been a target,” she said coldly. “I just didn’t know it was you pulling the trigger.”
His face went pale. “You saw the video.”
“I saw everything.” She stood, trembling but steady. “You helped erase me, Sebastian. You didn’t just sign the first contract — you erased the girl I used to be.”
He stepped forward, his voice breaking. “It wasn’t like that. I thought I was saving you.”
“Saving me?” Her voice cracked into a whisper. “You stole my past to build your future.”
He reached for her arm, but she backed away, fire in her eyes. “Don’t touch me.”
“Amara, listen—”
“No. You listen.” She pointed to the laptop. “I’m not your project. I’m not your redemption arc. I’m Witness 21 — and I’m done being your evidence.”
She slammed the laptop shut, grabbed the drive, and walked past him toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To finish what Veronica started,” she said. “To expose all of you.”
“Amara—”
She turned, her gaze cold enough to freeze fire. “If you follow me, Sebastian, I’ll make sure the world knows who you were before the mask.”
Then she was gone — leaving him standing in the doorway, drenched, haunted, and for the first time in his life… powerless.
- Writer
