Episode 2 – The Wedding Trap
Part 1
The grand hall had turned into a theater of cruelty. Chandeliers still gleamed above, but to Amara, their brilliance only highlighted her disgrace. Every corner seemed filled with whispers, darting eyes, and hidden smirks. What was once her celebration had become a stage for mockery.
Her body trembled, not from the cold draft sweeping in from the open balcony doors, but from the crushing weight of betrayal. The murmurs of the guests felt like daggers against her skin. Some pitied her, but many too many looked amused, eager to watch her fall further.
Selene stood tall beside Damien, her crimson gown gleaming like a banner of victory. She no longer bothered to hide her triumph. Instead, she leaned into Damien, whispering sweet words meant to wound Amara deeper. Damien's faint smirk confirmed he had no shame in flaunting their affair before the entire city's elite.
Pathetic, Selene murmured loudly enough for those nearest to hear. She thought she could hold onto you with nothing but a title and a dress.
Damien chuckled, low and cruel, as though the words were private entertainment. Amara's ears burned. She wanted to scream, to claw at their false faces, but her voice was locked inside her chest, strangled by humiliation.
Her father sat frozen at the front row, his face pale and strained. He looked like a man watching his legacy crumble. For him, this marriage was not about love it was about alliances, contracts, survival. And now, all of it lay in ruins because of her.
Father… she whispered, but he didn't even glance her way. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, knuckles white. To him, she was no longer a daughter only the failed key to a deal.
The realization shattered something within her.
Selene's heels clicked as she approached again, the sound echoing through the hushed hall. Each step was deliberate, calculated. She stopped a breath away, her eyes glimmering with cruelty.
Look at you, Selene sneered. "The perfect bride, reduced to nothing in less than an hour. Do you feel it, Amara? That emptiness? That's what you truly are.
Amara's throat tightened. She wanted to retort, to remind Selene of their years of friendship, of secrets shared under moonlit sleepovers, of promises whispered in youth. But what good were those memories now? Selene had buried them beneath lies and ambition.
Damien's voice rang out once more, carrying a cold finality. Enough of this farce. The marriage is void. Consider this alliance dissolved.
The priest, still standing awkwardly at the altar, looked as though he wanted to vanish. He closed his book with trembling hands, retreating quietly.
Guests began to rise, their movements a mixture of hesitation and eagerness. Some hurried to leave, not wanting to be further entangled in the scandal, while others lingered, savoring every delicious detail they could gossip about later. Amara could hear fragments of their whispers:
Unbelievable…
Did you see Selene's face? She planned this.
She'll never recover from this humiliation.
Her chest felt hollow, as though her heart had been carved out. She stood rooted in place, unable to flee, unable to fight. The veil still lay discarded at her feet, a symbol of a dream torn apart.
Selene, savoring her triumph, leaned close enough for only Amara to hear. You'll thank me one day. You were never meant for this world. You're too weak to survive.
The words carved into her soul deeper than the fall she had barely avoided moments earlier.
Her father finally stood, his voice heavy with despair. Come, Amara. It wasn't comfort. It wasn't protection. It was resignation. His tone said it all—she was no longer useful to him.
Her knees trembled as she took a step forward, each movement dragging like chains. The eyes of hundreds followed her, not with kindness but with hunger for scandal. Every gaze reminded her of her broken pride.
The woman who had entered this hall in white satin as a bride-to-be was gone. What remained was a hollow shell dressed in shame.
Her fingers clenched until nails dug into her palms. She forced her body upright, refusing to let them see her collapse here, now. She would not give Selene or Damien the satisfaction of watching her crumble completely.
But inside, her soul was screaming.
With every step toward the exit, she felt the walls close in. Her dreams had been stripped away before they had even begun. The man she had loved for years, the friend she had trusted more than anyone—they had both chosen this day, this moment, to destroy her.
And she could do nothing but walk away, shattered.
Episode 2 – The Wedding Trap
Part 2
The heavy doors loomed ahead, towering and cold, a final barrier between Amara and the sea of scornful faces. Every step forward felt heavier than the last, as though invisible hands were dragging her back into the abyss of humiliation.
Her veil lay abandoned behind her, a pale remnant of innocence, yet no one bothered to return it. Guests parted to clear her path, not out of kindness but to watch her leave in disgrace. She felt like a prisoner being paraded through the streets, her shame exposed for all to see.
Pitiful, someone muttered near the aisle.
She thought she was untouchable, another voice whispered.
Amara bit down hard on her lip, tasting iron, forcing herself not to collapse. Her trembling hands clutched the skirt of her gown to keep balance. She had once dreamed of this walk being one of triumph, escorted proudly by Damien as husband and partner. Instead, it was her walk of shame, with Selene standing tall at the altar, claiming everything Amara had ever wanted.
Amara! Selene's mocking voice followed, sharp and venomous. Don't forget to smile for the crowd. After all, you are the star tonight.
Laughter erupted behind her. Damien's low chuckle cut deeper than a blade. Amara kept her eyes forward, refusing to give them the sight of her tears.
Her father's shadow fell across her as he caught up, his jaw tight with fury. He didn't look at her; his attention was fixed on the guests, trying desperately to salvage dignity. Leave," he ordered under his breath, tone clipped. "You've done enough damage.
The words stung sharper than Selene's cruelty. She wanted comfort, even just a shred of his protection. Instead, he cast her aside, making her feel like an unwanted burden.
Her knees nearly buckled. She forced herself to stand taller. Even broken, she would not collapse before them.
The doors creaked open as attendants pushed them wide, spilling golden light from the chandeliers onto the marble entrance. Cold night air rushed in, sweeping her gown around her ankles as she stepped across the threshold.
For a heartbeat, silence followed her departure. Then the hall behind her erupted again whispers, laughter, applause even, as though her ruin were the finale of a show.
Outside, the air was sharp and bitter. The moon hung above like a pale witness, silvering the courtyard with cold light. Her footsteps echoed faintly against stone, carrying her away from the hall that had just become her graveyard of dreams.
Each breath was ragged, each inhale a reminder of her humiliation. She reached the fountain at the center of the courtyard, its waters rippling in the night breeze. Her reflection shimmered across the surface—her once-bright eyes now swollen with grief, her lips trembling, her gown stained by dirt at the hem.
She barely recognized herself.
The silence pressed against her chest, suffocating. Alone at last, her walls cracked. A sob tore from her throat, raw and unrestrained. She clutched at her chest as though she could hold the pieces of her heart together, but they slipped like sand through her fingers.
"How… how could you do this to me?" she whispered to the night, though her voice broke before it could carry.
Her body shook with the weight of betrayal. She remembered every smile Damien had given her, every soft word that had felt like promise. She recalled Selene's laughter during their girlhood, the countless times she had sworn loyalty as a friend. All of it—all of it—was a lie.
Her tears fell into the fountain, rippling across her fractured reflection.
At that moment, the heavy doors behind her opened again. Footsteps echoed—measured, confident. Her heart stopped.
"Running away so soon?" Damien's voice was a dagger in the dark.
She spun, wiping at her cheeks in vain. He strolled across the courtyard with Selene at his side, their hands entwined like a cruel flaunt. Selene's smile glimmered with triumph, her eyes hungry for more suffering.
Damien, please… Amara's voice shook despite her attempt to sound strong. Why humiliate me this way? Why destroy me in front of everyone?
Damien stopped a few paces away, his gaze icy. Because you were never meant to stand beside me. I married your name, not you. And now that I have what I want, you're nothing.
Selene leaned against him, her voice dripping with mockery. Don't be so dramatic, Amara. Think of this as… liberation. You were always living in a fantasy. Tonight, we simply woke you up.
Her chest tightened. Every word chipped at what little pride she had left.
Do you feel it? Selene whispered with venomous glee. That emptiness inside? That's the real you. Hollow. Replaceable.
Amara staggered backward until her gown brushed against the edge of the fountain. The moonlight glistened on her tear-streaked cheeks. For a fleeting moment, rage sparked beneath the pain—but it was drowned by despair.
Damien's eyes narrowed as he turned away, tugging Selene with him. Don't waste your tears on me, Amara. You're not worth them.
Their laughter trailed as they walked back into the hall, leaving her standing broken beneath the moon.
Alone again, she sank onto the fountain's edge, her body trembling violently. For the first time in her life, she understood what it meant to be utterly powerless.
The night closed around her like a shroud.
And deep inside, a seed of something darker began to stir.