Elena Grayson sat before the grand gilded mirror in her suite, her reflection glowing beneath the soft amber light of crystal sconces. Her gown was a masterpiece, hand-stitched from ivory silk that rippled like moonlight over water, embroidered with threads of silver that shimmered whenever she moved. Around her neck lay a diamond necklace, each stone carefully chosen by her mother, Victoria Grayson, who stood nearby, watching her daughter with pride glistening in her eyes.
"You look like a queen, Elena," Victoria whispered, smoothing the veil that cascaded over her daughter's shoulders.
Elena smiled softly, her chestnut curls brushing her collarbone. Tonight, she wasn't just a daughter or a bride to be. She was the embodiment of her family's legacy. The heir to the Grayson empire. This night was more than an engagement. It was history being written.
From outside her window, the low hum of engines drifted upward. She glanced down and saw sleek black cars pulling into the estate's marble driveway. Sleek cars that moved in a composed coordination were gleaming under the moonlight. Symbols of wealth and power lined up like an army. Each vehicle delivered another titan of industry, another politician, another socialite draped in jewels.
Each guest that was invited carried a substantial amount of wealth, influence and power to be worthy enough to receive an invitation to the grand engagement ceremony of the heirs of the Grayson and the stone family, one of the most wealthy and influential families in the country. Today was going to be the making of a historical milestone that'll merge the power of two big families.
Elena's father, Maxwell Grayson, had spared no expense in ensuring this night was unforgettable. The Graysons and the Stones, two empires of power and wealth, would merge through her marriage to Alex Stone. It was the kind of union that would cement dominance over every rival family in the city.
A soft knock came at the door. Her father's voice, deep and commanding, followed. "Elena, my dear, it's time."
She rose gracefully, her gown whispering across the marble floor. Her heart pounded, not from nerves, but from the anticipation of stepping into a future she had long dreamed of.
When she descended the grand staircase, every conversation in the hall below stilled. The Marquette Hall had been transformed into a palace of light. Towering crystal chandeliers cascaded golden brilliance upon polished marble floors. Velvet drapes framed windows that reached nearly two stories high. The air was thick with perfume, champagne, and power.
Guests stood frozen in awe as Elena descended, her beauty eclipsing even the grandeur of the room. Cameras flashed. Gasps echoed. And at the bottom of the staircase stood Alex Stone.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugged his frame like a second skin. His dark hair was slicked back, his eyes locked solely on her as if the rest of the world had vanished. When Elena reached him, he took her hand reverently, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
"You're breathtaking," Alex murmured, his voice meant only for her.
Her lips curved. "So are you."
The crowd erupted in applause as they stood together, the perfect couple, the perfect union. Their kiss was brief but enough to send a cheer through the hall. Champagne glasses clinked. Music swelled from the orchestra tucked in the corner, violins and cellos weaving an elegant melody.
Maxwell Grayson stepped forward, lifting his glass. The hall fell silent, every powerful gaze turning toward the patriarch of the Grayson family. His presence alone commanded respect, his tailored midnight-blue suit gleaming beneath the chandelier's light.
"My friends," Maxwell began, his voice deep and resonant, "tonight is more than a celebration of love. Tonight, we witness the merging of two great families. The Graysons and the Stones have long stood as pillars of power, ambition, and legacy. But now, through Elena and Alex, we stand united. Not only by bond, but by blood. Together, our families will rise higher, shine brighter, and secure a future of prosperity that no rival can challenge."
A roar of applause swept through the hall. Guests raised their glasses, the sparkling champagne catching the light like liquid gold. Elena's chest swelled with pride as she glanced at her father, who looked back at her with a rare softness in his eyes.
She felt Alex's hand tighten around hers, steady and reassuring. For a moment, everything felt perfect.
But not every gaze was filled with joy.
At the far end of the ballroom, half hidden behind a cluster of laughing socialites, Mia Curts,the daughter of Riley, and Sheila Curts stood with a champagne flute in hand. As much as she hated to attend the engagement ceremony of a man whom she had secretly admired and the one and only Elena Grayson, it was expected of her because her parents also wanted to build a strong connection with the Grayson and the stone family. Her red gown clung to her like liquid fire, diamonds dripping from her ears. To any observer, she was elegance personified. Her smile was flawless, her laughter melodic.
But her eyes told another story.
Behind the painted gloss of crimson lips and mascara, her expression was sharp, cold, and venomous. Every cheer for Elena cut into her like a knife. Every toast to the bride's happiness fanned the flames of her rage. Her glass trembled in her grip, not from nerves, but from the fury that coiled in her chest.
"That should have been me"
Her mind repeated it with every kiss Elena received, every compliment showered upon her. Alex Stone should have been hers. She had dreamed of it, planned for it, envisioned her life as his wife. And yet here was Elena Grayson, basking in the glory, stealing what Mia believed was rightfully hers.
Her jaw clenched as Alex leaned closer to Elena, whispering something that made her laugh softly. Mia's painted nails dug crescents into the crystal flute.
"No," she thought bitterly," this will not last."
Later that night, as the orchestra played on and laughter echoed across the hall, Mia slipped quietly onto the terrace. The cool night air brushed her skin, carrying the faint scent of roses from the manicured gardens below. Her phone was already in her hand, and her fingers dialed a number she knew by heart.
The line clicked.
"Hello?" a deep male voice answered.
Her lips curled into a smile, though her eyes glinted with malice. "It's time," she said softly, her voice dripping with venom. "I want it done. Slow. Painful. Make her regret every breath she takes." She paused, her gaze shifting back toward the glowing hall where Elena and Alex were locked in each other's arms. "Her happiness ends soon. Very soon."
And with that, Mia ended the call, her heart thrumming with wicked satisfaction. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure the official wedding ceremony didn't happen. It didn't matter who she hurt, or who she kills.
"Alex will be mine," she thought bitterly.