Chapter 25
Nadine hummed to herself as the maids bustled around her room, fitting the ivory gown against her figure. Today was supposed to be her victory–her proof that despite every whisper, every doubt, she had won. She would finally be Mrs. Leandro, her belly round with his child, her future secured.}
The gown sparkled in the morning light, lace brushing delicately against her arms. Her reflection beamed back at her from the mirror, perfect curls framing her painted face. “Finally,” she whispered to herself, touching her stomach. “We’re finally getting what we deserve.“M
The house buzzed with celebration–florists rushing in with bouquets, stylists perfecting every detail.
Nadine soaked it all in, relishing each moment. For once, all eyes would be on her, not on a ghost from the past, not on Emerald’s memory. Just her.
She lowered herself into the vanity chair, her hands caressing the gentle curve of her stomach. “Do you hear that, little one?” she whispered softly, her lips curving into a smile. “They’re all here for us. Today, we make history. Today, no one will ever cal me second again. You and I–we are the future.“}
Her fingers traced small circles against her gown, as if soothing the child within. “I know your father doesn’t always show it, but he will love you. He has to. Because once he holds you, he’ll finally realize he can’t let either of us go. You’ll be his anchor my sweet one. Our bond. Our triumph.”
Her voice broke with a laugh, half–nervous, half–elated. “I’ve waited so long for this moment. And now, it’s here. Just a little longer, baby, and we’ll have everything we’ve ever dreamed of.“”
But across the city, Leandro sat rigid in the car, his mind far from the wedding. The butler, pale and hesitant, clutched his phone as though it burned him.”
“Sir… you need to see this.”
Leandro frowned, his patience already thin. “What is it?”
The butler handed him the device. A message glowed on the screen, from an unknown number. At first, Leandro almost dismissed it, but then he saw the attachments. Photos. Documents.
His breath caught.
Proof.
The message read: It was Nadine. She orchestrated the kidnapping of your daughter. She wanted Emerald destroyed. We were only hired men–but we swear, we didn’t kill the girl. Someone else took her. She’s alive. She was never dead. Leandro’s vision blurred, his hand tightening around the phone. Nadine. The woman carrying his child. The woman who stood in a white gown, preparing vows. She had been the architect of Gwen’s terror, the root of Emerald’s pain.§
“Sir?” the butler asked nervously.
Leandro opened the pictures, bile rising in his throat. Images of Nadine’s men exchanging money, documents that tied her to the scheme. A confession he hadn’t asked for but now held like a dagger in his chest.
And then, before he could even react, another notification appeared.
A news headline.&
VILLAREAL HEIR SECRETLY MARRIES–WIFE REVEALED.”
He almost ignored it until his gaze caught on the accompanying photo. Martin Villarreal, dressed in a tailored suit, his arm proudly wrapped around the bride.}
Leandro’s heart stopped.
The woman. The veil. The unmistakable smile that once belonged to him alone.
Emerald.”
Alive.
Not a ghost, not a memory. Alive.
“No,” Leandro breathed, the phone slipping slightly in his grasp. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. “No. This can’t be=“”
The butler hesitated. “Sir… shall we proceed to the venue?“}
Leandro’s head snapped up, fury and desperation burning in his eyes. “No. We’re not going to any damn wedding. Find Martin. Find him now. And take me to her.”
“But, sir–what about Miss Nadine?”
“I don’t care about the wedding!” Leandro roared. His voice shook the air, final and absolute. “Cancel it. Do whatever you want, but we’re leaving now. I need to see Emerald.”
The car swerved, changing course. Leandro’s mind spun–Emerald alive, Gwen possibly safe. The lies, the betrayals,
everything tangled into chaos, but one truth pulsed steady: he had to reach her.N
everything tangled into chaos, but one truth pulsed steady: he had to reach her.
Meanwhile, at the wedding venue, Nadine stood at the altar, her veil lowered, her lips curved into a victorious smile. The music swelled, guests turned, the priest cleared his throat. But the space beside her was empty.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“Where’s the groom?”
“Is this a delay?”
“Surely Leandro wouldn’t-”
Her smile faltered. Nadine clutched her bouquet tighter, eyes darting toward the doors. Any moment now, she told herself. He would come. He had to come.
Minutes stretched. Whispers turned into laughter, into pity. Her palms began to sweat, her throat closing. She pulled her phone from the maid of honor’s hands and dialed frantically.”
No answer.
She dialed again. And again.”
Finally, a voice answered–but it wasn’t Leandro’s.
“Miss Nadine,” the butler’s voice carried an edge of pity. “I’m… sorry. But Mr. Leandro will not be coming to the wedding.”
Her vision darkened. “What do you mean? Where is he?!”
The butler hesitated. Then, softly, “Because… Miss Emerald is alive.”
The words struck like a bullet. Nadine’s knees buckled. The world spun around her. Gasps rose from the crowd as she collapsed onto the floor, her bouquet scattering petals across the aisle.
She woke hours later in a hospital bed, her body weak, her throat raw from screaming. Her first instinct was to touch her belly, to feel the child that had been her anchor. But when her hand pressed flat against her stomach, the silence was deafening.” The doctor’s words reached her like distant echoes. “I’m sorry. The stress… the baby didn’t survive.”
“No!” Nadine screamed, thrashing against the sheets. Tears blurred her vision as she clawed at her arms, her face, her hair. “No, no, no! Not my baby–please!“}
Her cries filled the sterile room, a haunting sound of despair. No Leandro at her side. No one to hold her hand. Just the truth -her schemes unraveling, her lies crumbling, her body broken by the very game she had played.
“Is this it?” she choked through sobs, her voice hoarse. “Is this… my karma?”
She buried her face into her hands, her screams echoing until her voice gave out. All she had left was emptiness.”
