The scent of roses filled the bridal chamber. Candles flickered against silk-draped walls, casting a golden glow over the enormous bed. Elara sat at the edge of it, her fingers clutching the hem of her gown.
Her heart was light, almost foolishly so. Finally, happiness… finally a family of my own.
She had married into the Holt family, one of the most powerful names in the city. Her new husband, Adrian Holt, had whispered promises of love and forever at the altar that very morning. He was elegant, ambitious, and had swept her into his world like a storm she could not resist.
"Wait here, my love," Adrian had told her earlier, brushing his lips against her forehead. "I'll return shortly."
That was an hour ago.
Elara bit her lip, nerves creeping in as she stared at the untouched wine on the table. Where had he gone? It was their wedding night—shouldn't he be with her?
A sound broke her thoughts. Muffled laughter. A woman's voice.
Her blood ran cold.
Slowly, barefoot, she walked toward the half-closed door of the chamber. She pressed her ear against it, her heart pounding violently in her chest.
"Adrian," came the voice, light and mocking. "Did you really marry her just for her dowry? You don't even love her, do you?"
Elara froze. The voice… it was Serena's. Her sister.
Through the gap in the door, Elara's world shattered. Adrian's hands were on Serena's waist, his lips curving into a smirk she had never seen before.
"Love her?" Adrian chuckled darkly. "She's nothing but a pawn. With her wealth under my name, the Holt empire is untouchable. Let her enjoy her little dream tonight. Soon, everything she owns will be mine."
Serena leaned into him, whispering, "And what about me?"
Adrian pulled her close, his lips crushing hers.
The sound of Elara's heart breaking was louder than her gasp.
Her hand flew to her mouth, desperate to stifle the sob threatening to escape. She stumbled back, her knees weak, her breath shallow.
No… this isn't real. This can't be happening. Not my sister. Not my husband.
But the truth was cruel, undeniable.
"Elara will sign everything over soon," Adrian murmured against Serena's lips. "Once I have it all, she won't live long enough to complain."
Serena's laughter was like a dagger. "Then she'll be the perfect fool until the end."
The door creaked.
Adrian's gaze flicked toward it, and in a heartbeat, Elara knew she had been caught.
The mask dropped from his face. The warmth, the gentleness—gone. What remained was ice.
"Elara," he said softly, stepping into the room, Serena slinking behind him with a smug smile. "Why are you standing there like a ghost? Did you see something you shouldn't have?"
Her lips trembled. "Adrian… Serena… how could you—?"
A sharp sting hit her neck before she could finish. She gasped, her eyes wide. Serena withdrew a jeweled hairpin slick with poison, her smile triumphant.
Elara's body weakened instantly. She fell to her knees, her vision blurring as the world tilted.
Adrian crouched beside her, his voice low and cruel. "You were useful, Elara. But a woman like you? Too gullible, too easy to deceive. Did you really think I married you out of love?"
Serena knelt too, tilting Elara's chin up with mock sweetness. "Sister, don't worry. I'll take good care of everything you leave behind. Your husband, your wealth… even your dignity."
Elara's tears spilled, hot and bitter. Her chest burned as darkness pulled her under.
But before her eyes closed, she whispered with the last of her strength—
"I will never forgive you… In my next life, I'll make you pay."
Her body went limp, collapsing to the cold floor.
The candles flickered, the roses wilted in silence.
And Elara Holt, the forsaken bride, breathed her last breath.