The wedding hall descended into chaos. Paramedics rushed forward, pushing through a frenzy of reporters whose cameras flashed like strobe lights, capturing every second of the drama. My father, Richard White, was pale on the gurney, his face a mask of shock and pain. And in the center of it all, my adopted sister Amelia played the part of a lifetime. “Sister!” she shrieked, tears streaming down her perfectly made-up face. She pointed a trembling finger at me, her voice cracking with manufactured grief. “How could you do this? To our father! He loved you! He gave you everything, and you repay him by destroying our family on your wedding day!” The whispers started instantly. They were venomous, judgmental. I saw the heiresses and socialites who once envied me now looking on with smug pity. Julian, my former groom, stood shell-shocked for a moment before his face twisted into a triumphant sneer. My ruin was his victory. But I was not the same Vivian who would have crumbled under their scorn. This rebirth had forged my heart in ice. I stood perfectly still, my hand resting lightly on Alexander King’s arm. The billionaire alpha beside me was a fortress of silence and lethal power. His presence was a warning, a dark promise of retribution to anyone who dared to cross me. His obsession was my shield. Amelia, emboldened by the crowd's sympathy, rushed toward me. “You’re a monster, Vivian! A heartless, selfish monster!” She reached for my arm, her nails poised to claw at the delicate lace of my gown. I moved faster. *SLAP.* The sound was a gunshot in the suddenly silent hall. It was sharp, clean, and utterly shocking. Amelia stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek where a bright red mark was already blooming. The cameras went wild, a hundred flashes capturing her stunned, tear-streaked face and my cold, unrepentant one. “Don’t you ever,” I said, my voice low and dangerous, “touch me again.” Amelia’s eyes widened, her act faltering. “You… you hit me…” she stammered, looking to the crowd for support. “Everyone saw! She’s violent! She’s unhinged!” “I am,” I agreed, a chilling smile touching my lips. “You should have remembered that.” I took a step forward, and she flinched back. The hunter had become the prey. “You want to talk about what I’ve done to Father? Let’s talk about what *you’ve* been doing.” I let my gaze sweep over the reporters. “You all know Amelia White, the sweet, dutiful daughter. The one who lives modestly in her powerful sister’s shadow.” I paused, letting the irony hang in the air. “But shadows are good for hiding things, aren’t they?” Julian’s face tightened. He knew I was going somewhere he didn’t want me to go. “You seem so concerned about the family’s finances, Amelia,” I continued, my voice ringing with cold clarity. “So worried about Father’s heart. Was his heart on your mind when you used falsified invoices from the design department to siphon over two million dollars from company accounts in the last six months alone?” Gasps echoed through the hall. Amelia’s face went white as a sheet. “That’s a lie! A desperate, vicious lie!” “Is it?” I tilted my head. “Then where did you get the ‘Starlight Serenade’ diamond necklace you wore to the charity gala last month? The one worth a quarter of a million dollars. Or the custom ruby bracelet you conveniently ‘lost’ last week? You told Father it was a cheap replica, but we both know it was the real deal, paid for with funds meant for our spring collection’s imported silk.” This was the beauty of my rebirth. I had a perfect memory of the past, of the company audit that happened months after my death. The audit that exposed Amelia’s treachery far too late. Now, I was using that knowledge as a weapon. This was the first stroke of my revenge. “You have no proof!” Amelia shrieked, her composure shattering completely. She was no longer a grieving daughter, but a cornered thief. “Oh, but I do.” On cue, Alexander King lifted a single finger. His assistant, a man with the cold efficiency of a trained assassin, stepped forward holding a tablet. On its screen, glowing for all to see, were bank statements. Transaction records. Scanned copies of the very invoices I had just described, with Amelia’s forged signature clearly visible. My alpha didn’t need to speak. His power was absolute, his resources infinite. He had become my weapon, and he wielded his billionaire influence with terrifying precision. The mood in the room shifted instantly. The accusatory glares aimed at me now turned into looks of disgust directed at Amelia. Her web of lies was unraveling in the most public way imaginable. This was karma, delivered swift and cold. Julian stared, his mouth agape. He was realizing, with dawning horror, that the woman he thought he could control and discard was gone forever. In her place stood a queen backed by a king, ready to burn their world to the ground. Amelia was trembling, trapped by the irrefutable evidence. “This is a setup! Julian, say something!” she pleaded, turning to the man who was supposed to be her co-conspirator. Julian looked from her to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and rage. He saw his own plans crumbling to dust. He was losing everything—the company, the reputation, the power. Desperation made him reckless. He took a step forward, his voice a low, vicious snarl that cut through the silence. “You think exposing a little theft makes you a saint, Vivian?” he hissed, his eyes glinting with pure malice. “You want to talk about secrets? Let’s talk about the biggest one of all.” He pointed a finger not at Amelia, but straight at me. The entire room held its breath. “Ask her,” Julian roared, his voice filled with venomous triumph. “Ask the bride what *really* happened to her mother.”

Chapter 5: The First Slap