The moment my mother-in-law slipped that envelope into my hand, I knew my perfect wedding day was about to unravel. Her fingers trembled as she pressed the paper against my palm, her eyes wide with fear. Around us, the grand ballroom buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, oblivious to the storm about to break.
I had dreamed of this day for months. Sergei’s family mansion glittered with crystal and fresh flowers, every detail flawless. But something felt off from the moment I woke up. My groom had been distant, whispering into his phone with a tension I’d never seen before. When his mother handed me that note, my stomach dropped.
In a secluded corner, I unfolded the paper. The words blurred as I read them: “They plan to kill you after the wedding. Run.” My breath caught. This couldn’t be real. But then I remembered Sergei’s recent behavior—the hushed calls, the way he avoided my questions.
The music swelled, signaling it was time for the ceremony. Instead of walking down the aisle, I bolted through a service exit, my wedding dress trailing behind me. I didn’t look back.
Fifteen years later, I’m someone else entirely. Vera, the quiet barista in a small Kaliningrad café, with a past buried deep. Until the day a familiar face flashed across the news: Sergei, arrested for fraud. The article mentioned his missing fiancée—me.
My old friend Lena begged me to come forward. “This is your chance,” she urged. But facing Sergei meant facing the life I’d fled. With shaking hands, I visited his mother, now frail in a nursing home. She confirmed my worst fears: Sergei had planned my death for my inheritance. Worse, he’d done it to others.
Armed with her evidence, I walked into his office—the same man who once promised to love me, now staring at me like a ghost. “You’ve grown up,” he sneered when I confronted him. But this time, I wasn’t running. This time, I watched as the police led him away in handcuffs.
Now, as rain taps against the café windows, I sip my coffee and smile. The past is finally where it belongs—behind me.
