The delicate white lace of her wedding gown clung to Riley's skin, a stark contrast to the tightening knot in her stomach. She gazed at her reflection, the heart-shaped corset framing a beauty she no longer felt. Her phone buzzed, pulling her from visions of a perfect wedding to a message from Erick, her fiancé.

"Baby, I cannot wait to see you in that gown of yours. Please come downstairs."

Against her better judgment, the old superstition about bad luck forgotten, Riley descended. The bridal salon was quiet, Erick nowhere in sight. A store clerk confirmed his recent presence, mentioning, almost as an afterthought, that he had left with her stepsister, Lisa. A strange chill ran down Riley's spine, but she dismissed it.

Stepping out into the crisp New York air, her gaze fell upon Erick's car. What she saw shattered her world. Erick and Lisa, entangled in a passionate kiss in the backseat. Lisa’s eyes met Riley’s, a triumphant smirk twisting her lips. Tears blurred Riley’s vision, hot and stinging, as her perfect world dissolved into a bitter, humiliating lie. Yet, in that moment of profound agony, a new, cold resolve hardened within her. She would act as if nothing happened, and she would have her revenge.