The Erased Wife's Spectacular Wedding Revenge

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 772 | Released on: 18/05/2026

Cont

my raw nerves like a blade drawn sideways. I'd heard that tone a thousand times.

onto my face. It

steadier than I'd expected. A stranger

flinched before I could stop myself-a quarter-in

lid back into place. "You must be exhausted. My poor

tending to be happy, mothers pretending to approve, grooms pretending they weren't terri

pressed out between clenched teeth. I'd learned to cry without making noise in my second foster

I stared at the ceiling and made a list. What I knew. Wha

ng, I ha

the couples massage, the helicopter tour. To

thing under the calm surface. A Moretti heir didn't get to

oice was flat. No edge to gr

look like anything but the devoted husband. Not with the Rossettis watching. Not with his father's men a

"When you're better, we'll go so

him sit in the sile

ling her, probably. Reporting that his new wife was already being difficult. Or maybe calling his mot

ing in the seat beside me, a heat I could feel without looking. He wasn't used to being shut out. The E

uation he hadn't even realized

I bent to pick up my bag at the exact right momen

that register men use when they're about to remind

eyes. No anger. No

," I said.

e. I watched him recalibrate-the slight tightening around his eyes, the

Our life. Every word in that sentence was a lie I'd helped construct. The apartmen

tudy. I needed records. I needed the kind of proof that did

mering silence, trying to

ought I was

Chapter End

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The Erased Wife's Spectacular Wedding Revenge

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“My wedding was perfect. Every rose. Every note of music. Every lie. I married Alessandro Moretti believing I was the heroine of a love story. The heir to the most feared family on the West Coast had chosen me-a wedding planner from nowhere-over duty, over blood, over the Rossetti princess his mother had already picked for him. I thought that meant he loved me. I was wrong. The text came through on our wedding night. From her. Gianna Rossetti. "Now that the wedding's over, when do I finally get you to myself?" Three days later, Alex looked me in the eye from a hospital bed and asked, "I'm sorry... who are you?" Fake amnesia. A staged accident. His mother, his mistress, and the family doctor-all in on it. They wanted me to walk away quietly. What I didn't know then was that walking away quietly was the kindest option on the table. The other one involved a car accident on a winding road and a funeral no one would question. Then Don Moretti's man handed me an envelope of cash on the sidewalk outside the apartment I no longer had a key to. "Start over somewhere comfortable," he said. "Far from San Francisco." I took the money. I didn't leave. I'm going to plan their wedding now. Gianna and Alex. The princess and the heir. And when I'm done, every chandelier, every centerpiece, every last napkin will be a monument to the worst mistake the Moretti family ever made. They thought they were giving me an exit. I'm building them a cage.”