I remember every detail of that day. The excitement, the nerves, the way my heart **raced with anticipation.**
It was supposed to be the **happiest day of my life.**
From the early morning, my parents were running around, handling last-minute details at the venue. My dad, though? He had **never** approved of this wedding.
He believed my fiancé, Ryan, was a **gold digger.**
“Mark my words,” Dad had warned me. “One day, you’ll see him for what he really is.”
I had **ignored him.**
But now—**an hour had passed, and Ryan was nowhere to be found.**
I tried calling him **again and again,** but **no answer.**
Guests were murmuring, exchanging uneasy glances. My bridesmaids whispered among themselves, concern **growing** by the minute.
I felt my stomach drop. **Something was wrong.**
And then—**the doors opened.**
But it wasn’t Ryan.
Two **police officers** walked into the venue.
The room went **silent.**
They walked straight toward me, their expressions unreadable. One of them pulled out a photo and held it up.
**Ryan’s face stared back at me.**
The officer’s voice was firm but gentle.
“Miss Grey, do you know this man?”
I swallowed hard. “**He’s my fiancé.**”
The officers exchanged glances before one said, **“Ma’am, we need to talk.”**
The ground beneath me felt like it was collapsing.
“Ryan was arrested this morning.”
My breath caught in my throat. “For what?”
The officer hesitated. “**Fraud. Identity theft. And that’s just the beginning.**”
I shook my head. “No… that can’t be right.”
The officer handed me another photo. This time, it wasn’t just Ryan—it was **two other women.**
Two other brides.
“Ryan,” the officer explained, “has done this before. He finds wealthy women, convinces them to marry him, then disappears before the wedding. This morning, we received a tip-off and caught him trying to flee the country.”
My hands **shook.**
I looked around the room—my family, my friends, my father, who stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
He had been **right.**
My fiancé was **a conman.**
And I had almost married him.
I should’ve **cried.** I should’ve **felt broken.**
But instead, all I felt was **rage.**
I wasn’t going to let him get away with this.
Not without **payback.**
