Vows of Revenge

The champagne was still bubbling in my glass when the screaming started outside the chapel. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. Behind me, the twisted wreckage of a luxury sedan was currently smoking against a stone wall, containing the mangled remains of the man I once promised to marry and the "sister" he could never truly leave. Winfred had spent four years choosing Mamie over me—at our engagement party, in our home, and finally, in a fatal plunge off the road while trying to gatecrash my wedding to a better man. As the sirens wailed through the streets of Belgravia, I simply adjusted my veil, leaned into Theo’s strength, and realized that some fires don’t need putting out; they just need to finish burning the right people.