📖 Episode 1 – The Shattered Promise
The chandeliers sparkled above, a thousand tiny stars reflecting against polished marble floors. The Baleworth estate was dressed in splendor: crimson roses filled tall crystal vases, violins hummed a sweet serenade, and golden light bathed the hall in a glow meant to mark a new beginning.
Nora Smith stood before the mirror in the bridal chamber, clad in ivory satin and lace. The gown hugged her frame with elegance, the veil cascading like a waterfall of dreams. Her cheeks glowed with nervous anticipation, her lips curved in the smallest smile.
Tomorrow, I'll be Mrs. Richard Baleworth.
She had whispered those words to herself a thousand times in the weeks leading up to today. Each time, they filled her chest with warmth. Richard was the man she had loved since her university days, the man who promised her forever under a canopy of starlight.
Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the delicate diamond ring on her finger. She remembered when Richard had slipped it on her hand two months ago, his voice husky as he whispered: "You are my only one, Nora. No one could ever take your place."
And yet, tonight—on the eve of their wedding—something gnawed at the edge of her peace.
The knock at the door startled her.
"Miss Nora." It was one of the maids. "Mr. Baleworth requests to see you in the study."
Her brows knit. Richard? Tonight? It was unusual. Tradition dictated they shouldn't see each other until the ceremony. Still, her heart fluttered with nervous joy. Maybe he couldn't wait. Maybe he wanted to see her, just once, before everything changed.
Gathering her skirts, Nora swept out of the chamber and down the velvet-carpeted hall. Guests laughed and drank in the distance, but the study was silent when she entered. Richard stood with his back to her, one hand gripping the edge of the desk, the other running through his hair.
"Richard?" she said softly.
He turned, and her heart caught. His face was pale, eyes shadowed, jaw clenched as though he were fighting a battle within.
"What's wrong?" She stepped closer, fingers reaching for his sleeve.
He pulled away.
The movement was small, almost imperceptible, but to Nora it felt like a blade.
"Richard, talk to me." Her voice trembled.
His lips parted, but the words seemed to scrape his throat raw as he forced them out.
"I can't marry you, Nora."
Her world froze.
"What… did you just say?"
His gaze darted to the window, to the flickering candles, anywhere but her. Finally, it landed on her face, cold and unyielding.
"Tomorrow, I will marry Isabella instead."
The words echoed in the study, louder than thunder.
For a long moment, Nora couldn't breathe. She blinked, waiting for him to laugh, to take it back, to say this was some twisted joke. But Richard's eyes held no warmth, only guilt and stubborn resolve.
"You're not serious." Her voice cracked.
"I am." He straightened, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for her wrath. "Isabella… she doesn't have much time left. The doctors say her illness is… terminal. She begged me to grant her one last wish. She wants to be my bride."
Nora stumbled back, hitting the edge of a chair.
"She's my sister." Her voice rose, shrill with disbelief. "My stepsister. And you—" Her chest heaved. "You're throwing away our vows, our years, everything we planned, for her?"
Richard's face twisted with pain, but his tone was firm.
"You don't understand. She's dying, Nora. What kind of man would I be if I turned her away?"
Tears burned at the corners of Nora's eyes.
"And what kind of man are you, Richard, to destroy the woman you claim to love?"
The silence that followed was heavier than any shout. Nora's heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to break free.
Richard turned away, unable to meet her gaze.
"I'm sorry. This is the way it has to be."
Nora let out a trembling laugh, bitter and hollow.
"No. This is the way you choose it to be."
She spun on her heel, clutching the skirts of her gown as though they were the only thing holding her upright. Her steps echoed down the hall, but the laughter and music from the ballroom felt distant, cruel, mocking.
Back in the bridal chamber, she collapsed before the mirror. Her reflection stared back—a bride without a groom, a woman stripped bare in a single night.
Her mother's voice rang in her memory, cold and dismissive: "Nora, you've always been too naive. You think love is enough, but in this world, power and appearances are what matter."
Her stepmother, Helen, had favored Isabella from the start. And now, with Richard's betrayal, it was clear—Nora was alone.
The next morning dawned bright and cruel.
Guests filled the chapel, whispering in excitement. But instead of Nora walking down the aisle, it was Isabella—draped in silk and pearls, feigning weakness with every step, her hand clinging to Richard's arm.
Nora stood hidden in the shadow of the corridor, her chest tight as she watched the man she loved slip a ring onto her sister's finger. Applause erupted, her stepmother dabbed at her eyes, and Isabella smiled sweetly at the crowd—though her eyes flicked toward Nora, gleaming with triumph.
The betrayal was complete.
Nora's fists clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms. She felt her heart splinter, piece by piece, until nothing was left but shards sharp enough to cut.
She whispered to herself, voice low, dangerous.
"I will never forgive you, Richard. Or you, Isabella. Never."
The chapel doors closed, sealing her out.
And in that moment, something inside Nora broke—only to be reborn in fire.
As the bells tolled in celebration of Richard and Isabella's union, Nora tore the diamond ring from her finger and hurled it to the ground.
Her vow was no longer to Richard, but to herself.
If they destroyed me, I'll rise from the ashes. And when I do… they'll regret ever crossing Nora Smith.