The groom. The charming heir. The man who kissed our mother’s hand at dinner and called my father “sir,” while his father, Victor Vale, smiled like a king purchasing a country. My hands tightened into fists, but my voice stayed steady.
“Why?”
Mara gave one short laugh, empty and broken.
“Because I told him I was scared.”
The seamstress slipped out of the room in tears. Mara grabbed both my wrists.
“Listen to me,” she pleaded. “If I call off the wedding, Victor will destroy Mom and Dad’s company. He already controls half their debt. He said he’ll call every loan, ruin every supplier contract, drag them through court, and make them lose the house.”
I looked at my little sister, my bright, brave Mara, the girl who used to hide behind me during thunderstorms. Now she was hiding inside a wedding gown from a monster in cufflinks.
“He said no one would believe me,” she whispered. “He said you’re just a divorced consultant with a cold face and no real power.” READ FULL STORY 
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