Chapter 3I Hardly Know Him

The wedding of the century became the sole topic of conversation online.

The public narrative was set: Mark Fairfax was a reformed romantic protecting his fragile wife, while Alice was a desperate intruder who had tried to steal him away.

When Mark returned to the apartment, he tossed an invitation onto the table. "The ceremony is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Do not be late."

The day after tomorrow.

The anniversary of my mother's death.

I stood up, my chair scraping harshly against the hardwood floor. "I cannot make it. I am visiting my mother's grave."

"And when are you going to sign the divorce papers?"

He ignored the question entirely, letting out a soft grunt. "Your mother has been gone for years. There is no point in visiting a headstone. Gina's parents will be there, so you can pay your respects to them instead."

A dull ache flared in my chest.

Seeing my defiance, he pulled a velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing my mother's delicate gold necklace.

"This belonged to her, correct? If you choose to skip the ceremony and upset Gina, I cannot guarantee what will happen to this."

My jaw clenched so hard it ached. Before my anger could boil over, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I forced myself to take a slow, deep breath, checked the message, and looked at him calmly.

"Mark, do you truly want me to offer my blessings to Gina in front of the press?"

He smiled. "Absolutely."

On the day of the wedding, the venue was swarming with reporters.

In the dressing room, Gina stood before the vanity in a custom satin gown. Her lapel bore a white rose labeled "Bride," while Mark wore one labeled "Groom."

On the table lay a withered, black rose labeled "Mistress."

Gina let out a soft whine, and Mark immediately grabbed the black rose, pinning it roughly to my blouse. The sharp pin scraped against my collarbone, drawing a thin line of blood, but he did not care.

"Do you truly want to go through with this?" I asked, looking into his eyes.

He frowned. "It is just a flower, Alice. Don't be dramatic."

Gina turned around, her expression triumphant. "During the ceremony, you will read the apology slides I prepared, word for word. Then, you will kneel and beg for my forgiveness."

"You will kowtow nine hundred and ninety-nine times before you are allowed to stand. Do you understand?"

I remained silent, staring back at her.

Annoyed by my silence, Mark gripped my jaw tightly. "Do not embarrass us today."

I shoved his hand away, maintaining my cold stare.

Before he could speak, the double doors opened, and a crowd of reporters and high-society guests entered the suite. They immediately crowded around Gina and Mark, offering praise, before their eyes landed on my lapel.

The whispers began instantly.

"How pathetic. Some women truly have no dignity."

"She actually had the audacity to show up. If I were Gina, I would have had security throw her out."

I reached up, ripped the black rose from my chest, and threw it to the floor. "I am not the mistress. Gina is."

Nobody believed me. The sneers only intensified.

Mark stepped closer, grabbing my wrist under the cover of his sleeve and squeezing until my bones ached, signaling me to be quiet.

Gina offered a fragile, pitying smile to the cameras. "Please, do not be too harsh on Alice. She was simply blinded by her affection for Mark. She is here today to make things right."

The music began, and they walked out to the altar hand-in-hand.

After the vows were spoken and the rings exchanged, I was escorted onto the stage under the harsh glow of the spotlights.

But as the projector screen behind us lit up, Mark’s face drained of color, turning a sickly, translucent white.