The Shocking Announcement

The church was the last place I wanted to be.

My pulse thrummed in my ears as I stepped through the arched doorway, the faint scent of lilies and incense wrapping around me like a memory I didn’t want. The walls seemed to hum with whispered prayers and hushed judgments. I wasn’t here for a family reunion. God forbid!. My parents’ estate was just a short drive away, but I had no intention of lodging there, pretending we were one big happy family.

Instead, I’d checked into a modest motel with Michael my boyfriend of eight months, my one constant in a year of disappointments. He’d been there when my world felt like it was collapsing in slow motion. Michael knew why I avoided coming home. My parents had made no secret of their disappointment. My decision to chase writing instead of joining my sister in her gleaming medical career had been, in their eyes, an act of rebellion. Lydia was the golden child. I was the shadow they kept at the edges of the family portrait. Slipping into a pew at the far end, I kept my head down. My parents were in clear view, but distance was my shield. I’d already given my gift to Joanne Lydia’s best friend and today’s blushing bride and asked her to keep my presence a secret. The last thing I wanted was drama before the vows.

The organ music swelled. Joanne appeared at the end of the aisle, radiant in lace and pearls. My eyes should’ve stayed on her, but something pulled me toward the groom.

He was… watching me.

Our eyes locked for a heartbeat too long. His gaze was dark, intense, and if I wasn’t imagining it assessing. Then he smiled.

A strange chill slid down my spine.

The ceremony began. The priest’s voice rolled through the church, but I couldn’t shake the awareness of his stare. Adrian, the groom, didn’t just glance my way he studied me, his gaze lingering like heat on bare skin.

Michael leaned in. “I swear I’ve seen that guy before.” He pulled out his phone, fingers tapping.

The murmurs of the congregation blurred into background noise as my unease grew.

And then, just as Joanne’s vows began, the groom’s voice cut through the air.

“I can’t marry you, Joanne.”

Gasps ricocheted through the church.

My head jerked up. Michael’s phone glowed in his hand, the headline glaring:

ADRIAN KINGSTON: Billionaire. Media Darling. Ruthless Negotiator.

I barely had time to process the words before Adrian raised his hand for silence.

“Because I have an announcement to make.”

His gaze sliced straight to me.

A prickle of dread climbed my spine.

“I’m in love with someone else,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm. “And I can’t dream of leaving her not when she’s carrying my child.”

The collective gasp was deafening. Joanne’s bouquet slipped from her hands. My sister’s face froze in shock.

Joanne’s voice trembled. “Adrian, what are you talking about?”

“I thought I could go through with the lie,” Adrian said smoothly. “But I can’t. You’re wonderful, Joanne… but my heart belongs elsewhere.”

Then like a sentence handed down his head turned toward me.

Joanne followed his gaze. Her eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed in rage.

“She’s here?” The sweetness in her voice curdled into venom. “Where’s the bitch?”

And Adrian pointed at me.

Chaos exploded. People rose to their feet, voices overlapping in outrage and disbelief. My mouth went dry.

“I… what?” was all I could manage.

“Alyssa,” my mother’s voice cracked like a whip, “say something!”

“This is insane!” I stammered. “I don’t even know him! Michael just googled him five minutes ago. I’m not pregnant!”

Adrian’s smirk deepened. “No need to pretend, love. We promised to keep this under wraps. I’m never leaving you, mi amor.”

My breath caught. His confidence was terrifying like a man playing a game I didn’t even know existed. Before I could speak again, Lydia stormed toward me, her heels striking the marble like gunfire.

“You poisonous little snake!”

Her hands tangled in my hair, yanking hard. Pain flared along my scalp.

“I swear I know nothing about this!” I shouted, refusing to retaliate. Joanne was sobbing into her veil, and Adrian stood like the devil in Armani, watching it all with a strange satisfaction.

My mother stepped between us, prying Lydia off me only to turn and slap me across the face. The crack echoed through the pews.

“Don’t ever call yourself my daughter again.”

My cheek burned. My throat tightened, but no tears came. Joanne’s voice cut through the noise. “Everything Lydia said about you is true. Everything you touch dies.”

I turned to Michael, desperate. “Please. Tell them I’m being set up.” He looked at me, expression unreadable. “How would I know, Alyssa? You tell me.” And then he walked away, leaving me stranded in the middle of the storm.

The stares were knives. The air was suffocating.

A shadow fell over me.

Adrian.

He stepped close enough that I caught the sharp, expensive bite of his cologne. His voice was low, intimate.

“Play along… or I promise, sweetheart, this will get so much worse.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Before I could move, before I could even think, his hand closed around mine warm, steady, and utterly inescapable.

The congregation’s gasps rose like a wave.

And then, with a smile that was pure performance, Adrian Kingston pulled me toward the altar.