telling it. Then I heard Sofia whisper that once the ceremony was over, they would finally stop sneaking around, and Itan murmured that a few more weeks would make them both untouchable. Those words hit harder than the kiss.
I must have made some sound, because I suddenly became aware of another presence behind me. When I turned, Liam was there. He looked impossibly composed, one hand in his pocket, boutonniere perfectly straight, face pale but controlled. I expected rage. I expected devastation. Instead he met my eyes, saw exactly what I had seen reflected in them, and gave me that strange wink. Then he said the line that still echoes in my head: ‘Don’t worry. The main show is about to begin.’
I stared at him in disbelief. He gently guided me farther down the corridor so the two people on the balcony would not notice us. Only then did his calm crack enough for me to see the cost of it. His eyes were bloodshot. His jaw was locked so tightly a muscle trembled near his ear. He told me he had learned three days earlier that something was wrong. A private investigator he hired after spotting unexplained meetings on Sofia’s calendar had sent him photos, hotel receipts, and screenshots of messages. At first he did not tell me because he was praying the second person was not Itan. He said he needed certainty before he shattered both our lives at once.
That certainty had arrived an hour earlier, along with a folder full of evidence that was now sitting in the office of Liam’s attorney downstairs. Liam had planned to confront Sofia privately after the ceremony and cancel the marriage before filing the license, but seeing them together had changed something in him. He looked back toward the balcony once, then at me, and asked very quietly whether I wanted them exposed or spared. I tasted blood where I had bitten the inside of my cheek. I told him I wanted the truth to walk into the ballroom wearing their names.
A hard, humorless smile crossed his face. He said good, because he had already called the audiovisual manager to load a presentation that had originally been a sentimental video of his and Sofia’s relationship. Ten minutes earlier, he had replaced it. He had also delayed the signing of the marriage license, moved the officiant’s paperwork to a holding folder, and asked his attorney and financial adviser to stay on-site until the reception. If Sofia thought she was about to marry into Liam’s world, she was walking toward a locked door. If Itan thought Liam’s upcoming hotel project would make his architecture firm, he was about to watch that contract disappear in front of every client who mattered.
I should say I felt triumphant then, but that is not true. I felt sick. I felt split in half. Liam squeezed my shoulder the way he used to when I was little and scared of thunderstorms. He told me one more thing before stepping away: play along until I speak. Then he straightened his jacket, reset his face into the groom everyone expected, and walked toward the ballroom with the smooth confidence of a man about to perform open-heart surgery without anesthesia.
Itan returned three minutes later. He
