To Undo One Wrong Step
Before the vows, Fabian's dancer, Gabriella, suddenly stormed the stage, planting herself in front of him.
"Don Fabian, wait! Before you say your vows, let's show everyone what this so-called 'principessa' is really made of!"
Before I could react, Gabriella pulled out a bottle of makeup remover and splashed it all over my face.
The exquisite makeup—a hundred-thousand-dollar masterpiece that had taken a top European artist five hours to apply—instantly began to stream down my face.
It bled onto the pure white, custom-made Milanese gown, leaving hideous trails in its wake.
Gabriella's lips curved into a triumphant smirk.
Fabian pulled her to his side, lovingly stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.
"You little troublemaker, always so impulsive. Don't you know what today is?"
Then he turned to me, his voice laced with impatience.
"Gabriella's been going through a rough patch. She's just starting to come out of it. Don't take it to heart, Alessia."
I clenched my fists.
"She's in a bad mood, so that gives her the right to destroy our union?"
Fabian's expression instantly darkened, his tone turning frigid.
"That's enough. Why are you arguing with a girl? Don't be so childish. The ceremony is what matters right now!"
"Look at the state of you. Go clean yourself up. Now."
"You have ten minutes. If you come back still looking like this, Gabriella will take your place at the altar."
My chest tightened.
I glanced at Gabriella's white dress, a near-perfect copy of my own gown, and let out a laugh that was sharp and cold.
"Don't bother waiting. This union... why don't the two of you just finish it yourselves."