Revenge Wears White

The wedding stops like someone cut the sound. Elle Frost stands at the altar with her hands still open, rings shining, and the chapel’s air turns cold. The groom’s smile freezes mid-breath. A second later, her wedding vow words catch in her throat as if the room itself refuses to swallow them.

Her dress is heavy with satin and promises. She can smell roses and expensive perfume, and underneath that, the faint bite of panic. The officiant’s eyes move too fast, scanning the aisles like he expects a mistake to crawl out from between the guests.

Then her phone buzzes in her clutch. Not a call. A message that shows no sender, just a live icon and the words: _BRIDAL_SUITE_FEED_.