Chapter 1 Live Wedding, Exploding Wedding Car

# Chapter 1: Live Wedding, Exploding Wedding Car

My hands didn't shake as I adjusted the remote control hidden in my bouquet. They should have—normal brides get nervous on their wedding day. But I wasn't a normal bride, and this wasn't going to be a normal wedding.

The makeup artist dabbed powder on my cheeks, commenting on how unusually calm I seemed. If only she knew what lay beneath my serene exterior. Beneath the designer wedding dress worth more than most people's annual salary. Beneath the diamond earrings Nicholas had given me as an "apology" after I caught him in his first lie.

"All set, Miss Butler. You look stunning." She stepped back, admiring her work.

I studied my reflection. I did look beautiful—ethereal, even. The white dress contrasted sharply with my dark hair and eyes. Eyes that had cried enough tears to fill an ocean. Eyes that were now dry. Forever dry.

"Thank you," I said, rising from the chair. "Could you give me a moment alone? Just to... collect my thoughts."

Once she left, I locked the door and pulled out my phone. The surveillance app showed me exactly what I needed to see: Nicholas and Jennifer in the wedding car, early as planned. Their voices came through crystal clear thanks to the bugs I'd planted weeks ago.

"Everything's set?" Nicholas asked, his hand sliding up Jennifer's thigh, bunching her maid-of-honor dress. "The 'power outage' during the reception?"

Jennifer nodded, leaning into his touch. "Exactly as we planned. When the lights go out, I'll be right behind her at the top of the grand staircase. One little push, and..." She made a tumbling gesture with her hand. "Tragic accident. No one will suspect a thing."

Nicholas's laugh made my skin crawl. "And her father's fortune becomes mine. Prenup doesn't cover accidental death." He kissed her neck. "Enough for us to disappear forever."

"You're certain she doesn't suspect anything?" Jennifer asked, the worry in her voice almost comical.

"Lara? She's completely clueless." Nicholas smirked. "Still thinks her father died of natural causes. Still thinks you're her best friend. Still thinks I love her."

I closed the app. I didn't need to hear more. I'd heard enough over the past three months to piece everything together. How they'd murdered my father by tampering with his medication and removing his oxygen when he was hospitalized. How they'd been lovers for years—even before Nicholas proposed to me. How they planned to kill me next.

What they didn't know was that I had my own plans.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Five minutes, Miss Butler!" called the wedding coordinator.

"I'll be right out."

I slipped the remote deeper into my bouquet and smoothed my dress. Under the layers of white tulle and silk lay a black dress—my statement piece for later. I took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

The wedding venue was spectacular—Nicholas had spared no expense with my money. A hundred-meter red carpet stretched between rows of white chairs, covered in millions of rose petals. Guests murmured in appreciation as I appeared at the entrance. At the far end, instead of an altar, waited the custom Rolls Royce that would take us to the reception.

And above it all, the drone cameras circled, broadcasting every moment to millions of viewers online. Nicholas had insisted on the livestream—he wanted the world to witness our "perfect love story." I'd agreed, but for entirely different reasons.

As the music swelled, I began my walk down the aisle. Each step brought me closer to the car where Nicholas and Jennifer waited, having separated and taken their positions. Nicholas stood tall and handsome by the car door, the picture of a devoted groom. Jennifer stood nearby, her smile tight as she clutched her bouquet.

Smartphones flashed. Guests wiped tears. The drone cameras swooped and captured every angle.

I reached Nicholas, who took my hand and kissed it. "You look beautiful," he whispered.

"So do you," I replied, meaning it. He was beautiful—on the outside. Like a poisonous flower.

We posed for the cameras. The officiant said a few words about love and commitment that made me want to laugh. Nicholas recited his vows, promising to cherish and protect me until death parted us. I repeated mine, wondering if anyone noticed the hollowness in my voice.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared. "You may kiss the bride."

Nicholas's lips touched mine. Cold. Calculated. I felt nothing.

Applause erupted as we turned to face our guests. Nicholas guided me toward the wedding car, whispering, "Ready to start our life together?"

I smiled. "More than you know."

As we approached the car, I made sure to position myself for the cameras. The main drone hovered directly above us, broadcasting to the large screens erected for guests and to millions watching online.

"Before we leave," I said, raising my voice so everyone could hear, "I want to thank you all for witnessing this special day."

Nicholas gave me a puzzled look—this wasn't part of the script.

I continued, my voice steady. "Marriage is about honesty, isn't it, Nicholas? About sharing everything."

His smile faltered. "Lara, what are—"

"Let me share something with you all," I said, addressing the crowd and cameras. "A wedding gift for my husband."

I pulled out a small remote from my bouquet and held it up to the cameras. Nicholas's eyes widened in recognition—he'd seen similar devices in his line of work.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, grabbing for my wrist.

I stepped back and pressed the button.

The wedding car's entertainment system flickered to life, screens displaying what Nicholas and Jennifer never thought I'd discover: Nicholas in my father's hospital room, removing his oxygen tube while he slept. Jennifer switching my birth control pills with placebos, hoping to trap me in pregnancy before they killed me. The two of them in bed together the night of my father's funeral.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Jennifer froze, her face ashen. Nicholas lunged for me.

"You crazy bitch—" he snarled.

I pressed the second button.

The explosion wasn't massive—I wasn't a murderer—but it was spectacular. The decorative "fireworks" I'd installed in the car erupted in a controlled burst of flame and smoke. The car's windows shattered. The carefully orchestrated blast was designed not to kill, but to create chaos and fear.

Nicholas was thrown backward by the shock wave. Jennifer screamed, falling to her knees. Guests scattered in panic. And through it all, the drones kept broadcasting, capturing every moment of my revenge.

As security and staff rushed toward the scene, I calmly ripped away my wedding dress, revealing the black mourning dress beneath. I walked to the main broadcasting station and plugged in a USB drive.

"Since we're all here," I said into the microphone, my voice echoing across the venue and to all online viewers, "let me share one more thing."

The screens now displayed police reports and evidence I'd gathered over months: Nicholas's previous girlfriend's "suicide" that was never properly investigated. Her phone's last location—on his yacht. Financial records showing how he'd systematically stolen from my father's company.

"Nicholas Hill is not just a cheater," I announced. "He's a murderer. And today was never going to be a wedding. It was always going to be justice."

From the smoking car, a figure emerged. Nicholas, his expensive suit charred and his face bloody, staggered toward me with murder in his eyes.

"You... you..." he wheezed, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. "Your father... was already dying... he deserved—"

Before he could finish, police sirens wailed in the distance. Someone in the crowd had called them—exactly as I'd anticipated.

Nicholas heard them too. His eyes darted around, calculating his chances of escape. Jennifer remained frozen in shock, mascara streaming down her face.

"It's over, Nicholas," I said quietly. "Everything is over."

As the first police cars pulled up to the venue, I turned to face the main camera one last time. I slowly removed my veil and let it fall to the ground.

"Today is also the anniversary of my first husband's death," I said clearly. "Or so everyone thought."

The drone camera panned up to the second floor of the building behind me. There, leaning against the balcony with a cold smile, stood a man everyone believed was dead. Daniel. My first love. My partner in this elaborate revenge.

He held up a piece of paper—his own death certificate—and set it aflame.

Nicholas saw him too. His face contorted in shock and horror as he realized the depth of the trap he'd fallen into. "No... it's impossible..."

The police officers surrounded Nicholas, forcing him to the ground as they handcuffed him. Jennifer sobbed as another officer approached her.

I stood amid the chaos, feeling nothing but a cold satisfaction. The plan had worked perfectly. Phase one was complete.

And as Daniel descended the stairs to join me, I knew this was just the beginning.