Bestie Wears My Wedding Dress at My Wedding, I Fake Death

The morning light streamed through the windows of my bridal suite, casting a golden glow across the white silk of my wedding dress laid out on the bed. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman looking back at me. My hands trembled slightly as I applied the final touches of blush to my cheeks.

"Perfect," I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath. In just a few hours, I would walk down the aisle toward Julian, the man of my dreams, and begin our life together.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Come in!" I called, expecting it to be my mother or perhaps the wedding planner with last-minute details.

The door swung open, and Chloe stepped in, her smile as bright as ever. My best friend since childhood, she'd been by my side through every up and down. Today, she was supposed to be my maid of honor.

"Elara, you look absolutely gorgeous!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with what I thought was happiness for me.

"Thanks, Chloe," I beamed, turning to face her fully. "I'm so nervous. Do you think Julian will like my hair this way?"

Before she could answer, something changed in her expression—a flicker of something I couldn't quite place. Then, without warning, she stepped aside.

Three masked men burst into the room, moving with frightening speed and purpose.

"Chloe, what—" My words died in my throat as one of them grabbed me from behind, a rough hand clamping over my mouth.

"Sorry, Elara," Chloe said, her voice suddenly cold. "But this wedding is going to be mine, not yours."

I struggled against the man's iron grip, my muffled screams useless against his palm. The other two men began tearing through my belongings, shoving my wedding dress into a bag.

"Stop!" I tried to shout, but it came out as nothing more than a whimper.

One of the men produced a syringe. "This will keep her quiet," he said, his voice muffled behind his mask.

I felt a sharp prick in my neck, and the room began to spin almost immediately. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Chloe's face—not with concern or remorse, but with triumph.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of water rushing nearby. My head throbbed, and my mouth felt like cotton. When I tried to move, I discovered my wrists were bound to the arms of a wooden chair.

"Finally awake, princess?"

My eyes focused slowly on the figure before me. Chloe stood in the center of what appeared to be a small cabin, but it wasn't her voice that had spoken.

"She's been out for almost three hours," a gruff male voice responded from somewhere behind me.

I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision. The cabin was rustic, with wooden walls and a single window that revealed dense forest outside. Through the window, I could hear the distinct sound of rushing water—a river, probably.

"Where am I?" I managed to croak out, my voice barely audible.

"You're nowhere," Chloe answered, stepping closer. "Nowhere that anyone will ever find you."

As she moved into the light, I gasped. She was wearing my wedding dress—the silk ivory gown with delicate lace detailing that I'd spent months selecting.

"Chloe, what are you doing?" I whispered, disbelief washing over me. "Why are you doing this?"

She laughed, the sound echoing off the wooden walls. "Why? Because you've always had everything handed to you, Elara. Everything that should have been mine."

She twirled in my dress, watching as the fabric billowed around her. "Julian never wanted you. He told me so last night. He's been using you all along—your family connections, your money. But he's always wanted me."

"That's not true," I said, though doubt began to creep into my voice. "Julian loves me."

"Does he?" Chloe's smile turned cruel. "Then why did he pay these men to make sure you disappear? He needed an excuse to get rid of his boring, predictable fiancée."

One of the masked men stepped forward. "We should get going, Miss Sterling. The ceremony is scheduled to begin in two hours."

Ceremony? My blood ran cold as understanding dawned on me.

"Yes," Chloe confirmed, reading my expression. "I'm going to marry Julian today. In your dress, in your venue, with all your guests. By the time anyone realizes you're missing, it will be too late."

She leaned close, her lips nearly touching my ear. "And you'll be fish food by then."

With that, she turned and headed for the door, pausing only to look back at me one last time. "Don't worry, Elara. I'll take good care of your life."

The door slammed behind her, leaving me alone with two masked men who were now looking at me with growing impatience.

"Boss says we wait an hour after the ceremony before we finish the job," one of them said to the other. "Make it look like she got cold feet and ran off, then had an accident."

My mind raced. They were going to kill me—and Julian had ordered it. The man I was supposed to marry today had orchestrated my murder.

I had to get out.

The men moved to the corner of the cabin, huddled over what looked like a bottle of whiskey. Now or never.

I twisted my wrists against the ropes, feeling skin tear as I worked. Pain shot through my arms, but I ignored it. Years of competitive swimming had made me strong, and I'd always been good at slipping out of tight spots.

The window was my only chance. It was small, but I was smaller.

With a final, painful tug, one hand came free. I reached for the window latch just as one of the men turned.

"Hey!" he shouted, lunging toward me.

I smashed my elbow through the window glass and squeezed through the opening, ignoring the shards that cut into my skin. Outside, I could see the river rushing below, maybe fifteen feet down.

Gunshots rang out behind me as I launched myself into the air, my body arcing toward the churning water below.

The last thing I heard was a voice shouting, "She's getting away!"

Then I hit the water, the cold shocking my system as the current immediately pulled me under.

* * *

Darkness surrounded me as I tumbled through the water. My lungs burned for air, but I forced myself to stay under, knowing the men would be looking for me at the surface.

Eventually, my lungs couldn't take anymore. I broke the surface, gasping desperately for air, only to be pulled under again by the current.

This cycle repeated several times until I felt myself growing weaker. The river was too strong, and I was too exhausted from fighting the restraints and swimming against the pull.

As my consciousness began to fade, I thought I heard a voice calling out. Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the water's grip.

"Stay with me," a woman's voice commanded as I was lifted from the river.

I forced my eyes open briefly to see an elegant woman with sharp features and determined eyes leaning over me.

"I've got you," she said firmly. "I'm Isabella Thorne. You're safe now."

As darkness claimed me again, I wondered if I was hallucinating—Isabella Thorne, the legendary CEO who never lost a battle in business or life, pulling me from the water like some modern-day mermaid.

The last thing I remember before consciousness slipped away completely was thinking that if anyone could save me, it would be her.

And if anyone could help me get revenge, it would be her too.