The moment my eyes met my mother-in-law’s, I sensed something was terribly wrong. Her face had lost all color, her hand trembled as she held a small envelope, and her wide eyes brimmed with panic. The grand banquet hall, filled with the sounds of lively music and clinking glasses, drowned out everything else, making our exchange eerily private.
The day had started flawlessly. The warm May sunlight streamed through the towering windows of Sergei’s family mansion, illuminating the polished floors and exquisite floral arrangements. Waiters moved swiftly, setting delicate crystal glasses on perfectly arranged tables. The scent of fresh roses mingled with the crisp aroma of fine champagne. Massive portraits with golden frames adorned the walls, their painted eyes seemingly observing every moment of the celebration.
She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Anastasia, have you noticed that Sergei has been acting strangely today?”
Her words sent a shiver down my spine. I had noticed. All morning, Sergei had been tense, distant. Now, across the room, he stood pressed against the far wall, phone to his ear, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. The moment his gaze flickered toward me, I felt a sudden chill.
“Just nerves,” I said, trying to dismiss it, adjusting my veil with slightly unsteady hands.
My mother-in-law hesitated only for a moment before slipping the envelope into my hand. “Read this. Now,” she murmured, then straightened, smoothing out her dress before disappearing into the crowd, her expression once again poised and unreadable.
My fingers trembled as I retreated to a quiet corner, away from the watchful eyes of guests. The second I unfolded the note, my breath caught in my throat.
Sergei and his family plan to get rid of you after the wedding. You are part of their scheme. They know about your family’s inheritance. Run if you want to live.
At first, I wanted to laugh. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. But then I thought of the hushed conversations Sergei always ended the moment I entered the room, the distant way he had been treating me recently, the strange glances between him and his relatives. Pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t realized I was solving clicked together.
Across the hall, Sergei was no longer on his call. He was watching me. His gaze was unreadable, but there was something in his expression that made my stomach turn. He no longer looked like the man I had fallen in love with. He looked like a stranger. Like a predator.
“Nastya!” My bridesmaid’s voice rang out, filled with excitement. “It’s time!”
“Coming! Just need to use the restroom!”
Forcing a smile, I turned away. I walked with controlled steps, careful not to betray the storm of panic inside me. The moment I reached the service corridor, I broke into a sprint.
The cool air hit my face as I pushed open the back door and stumbled onto the quiet street. I tore off my shoes, my heart pounding. Without looking back, I ran.
That day, I left behind everything—my past, my future, my very identity.
For fifteen years, no one knew where I had gone.
