“She slapped me during the wedding and hissed, ‘You’re an idiot!’ I stood there shocked, my face burning, the guests completely silent. She didn’t know I was the bride. Before I could say a word, the groom turned and confronted his mother, his eyes icy. ‘Enough.’ When sirens rang out in the lobby, everything fell apart. That night, the truth came out in a way no one expected…”

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Chapter 1: The Slap in the Banquet Hall

The Atlantic sea breeze blew through the French windows of The Hawthorne Estate. Inside, the dazzling crystal chandeliers illuminated hundreds of guests raising their champagne glasses.

Today was my wedding to Julian Hawthorne, the sole heir to the Hawthorne shipping empire.

But I, Elena, was not a traditional bride. I wasn’t wearing a flowing princess gown. I wore a sharp, tailored ivory silk tuxedo, my hair simply styled in an updo. I hated fussiness. Julian loved me for that. He said I was a breath of fresh air in his decaying family.

The banquet was at its climax when a small incident occurred. A clumsy waiter knocked over a tower of red wine glasses. Wine splattered across the white marble floor.

With the reflexes of someone who had worked as a restaurant manager to pay for college, I bent down, picked up the napkin, and helped the waiter dab the wine stain before it spread to the dress of a nearby guest.

Just then, the large doors of the banquet hall burst open.

A woman entered. She was about 60, wearing a sleek black Chanel dress and a large pearl necklace. Her face was sharp, cold, and exuded the arrogance of someone who had never had to bow before anyone.

It was Victoria Hawthorne – Julian’s mother. The woman who had disowned her son five years earlier and vowed never to accept this marriage. She hadn’t been invited.

Victoria strode quickly through the hall, her eyes scanning the crowd like an eagle searching for prey. She saw me crouching on the floor, holding the wine-stained napkin.

She didn’t know who I was. She had never met me before. In her eyes, I was just a clumsy servant soiling her family’s floors. Or worse, a troublemaker.

She stepped forward, and without a word, raised her hand.

SLAP!

A thunderous slap landed on my left cheek. It was so hard I stumbled to the side. The noisy banquet hall suddenly fell silent. The music stopped.

I clutched my cheek, looking up at her, stunned.

“What the hell are you doing?” Victoria hissed, her voice razor-sharp. “Red wine on an Italian marble floor? You idiot! Do you know this floor is worth more than your life? Who hired you? Where’s the manager?”

I stood up. My cheek was burning, bright red. I looked at her, not with fear, but with utter astonishment. She actually thought I was a servant.

“Madam…” I began to speak.

“Shut up!” she interrupted. “I don’t want an apology from a lowlife. I came here to find my son, not to witness your stupidity.”

She turned to the crowd, gesturing with her chin: “Where’s Julian? Tell him to come out! His mother is here to save him from the biggest mistake of his life!”

The crowd didn’t move. They looked at her, then at me, with horrified expressions.

From the stage, Julian descended. He was wearing a black tuxedo with a white rose pinned to his lapel. He walked through the crowd, his eyes fixed on his mother.

“Julian!” Victoria exclaimed, spreading her arms wide. “I arrived just in time, didn’t I? I heard you’re getting married today. You can’t marry that gold digger. I’ve investigated; she comes from the slums…”

Julian didn’t embrace her. He walked to my side, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me close. He looked at the red mark on my cheek, then looked up at his mother.

His eyes were icy cold. Colder than the sea breeze outside.

“Who did you just hit, Victoria?” Julian asked, his voice low and menacing.

“This waitress…” Victoria paused. She looked at my white dress. She looked at Julian’s hand on my waist. And then, she looked at the diamond ring on my ring finger.

Understanding slowly crept into her eyes.

“This… this is…” she stammered.

“Let me introduce you,” Julian said, emphasizing each word. “This is Elena Hawthorne. My wife. The bride of today. And the new mistress of this house.”

Victoria’s face turned from red to deathly pale.

“You… you married her?” She recoiled. “You married a woman who dresses like a man and mops the floor on your wedding day? What an idiot! You two are both fools!”

“Enough,” Julian said. His voice wasn’t loud, but its authority silenced Victoria. “You weren’t invited here. And you just assaulted my wife.”

“I’m your mother! I have the right!” she shrieked, trying to salvage her last shred of authority. “I’m here to protect the family’s property! This brat will steal all your money!”

Just then, a deafening sound rang out.

WEO… WEO… WEO…

The sirens.

Not fire alarms. The wails of police sirens.

Flashing red and blue lights swept through the large windows, dyeing the luxurious banquet hall an eerie color.

Three black FBI SUVs and two local police cars sped through the mansion gates, braking sharply right in front of the main entrance.

“What the hell?” Victoria looked out in alarm.

The large door swung open again. But this time it wasn’t a guest.

A team of FBI agents in bulletproof vests, guns drawn, swarmed in.

Entering the banquet hall.

“Everyone stand still! This is the FBI!”

Victoria breathed a sigh of relief, turning to me with a sneer. “See? I told you. I reported your fake identity to the FBI. They’re here to arrest you, you con artist!”

She pointed at me. “Arrest her! She deceived my son!”

The commander of the task force, Agent Miller, stepped forward. He looked at me, nodded slightly in greeting, then turned to Victoria.

“Ms. Victoria Hawthorne?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the one who called…”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Miller said, drawing out handcuffs. “Anything you say will be evidence against you in court.”

Victoria was stunned. “What? You’re mistaken! That girl is the criminal!”

“Ms. Victoria Hawthorne,” Miller read aloud the arrest warrant. “She was arrested for embezzlement, money laundering, federal tax evasion, and conspiracy to commit murder.”

Chapter 2: The Truth Revealed

The entire room gasped. Glasses fell to the floor and shattered.

“Murder?” Victoria shrieked as she was handcuffed. “Who did I kill? I am Mrs. Hawthorne!”

Julian stepped forward. He looked directly into his mother’s eyes.

“You killed my father,” he said.

Victoria froze. “Your father died of a heart attack! It was an accident!”

“No,” I said.

I stepped out of Julian’s embrace and approached her. My cheek still ached, but my heart was strangely calm.

“You called me an idiot,” I said. “But you’ve forgotten one thing. Before marrying Julian, what was my profession?”

Victoria glared at me. “You’re just a waitress…”

“That was just a part-time job during my student years,” I smiled. “I’m a senior Forensic Accountant at Deloitte. And two years ago, Julian hired me. Not to be his wife, but to investigate the books of the Hawthorne Group.”

Victoria’s face turned ashen.

“I spent two years tracing every single one of your overseas transfers,” I continued. “You embezzled $50 million from Julian’s trust. And when Mr. Hawthorne – my father-in-law – found out five years ago and threatened to report you to the police, you swapped his heart medication with counterfeit drugs.”

“You’re lying! Where’s the proof?” she screamed, struggling in the agent’s hands.

“The proof is in a secret safe at your Hamptons mansion,” Julian said. “The password is your young lover’s birthday. I unlocked it this morning.”

Julian held up a phone.

“And I also found the recording on Dad’s old phone. He recorded our last argument. He knew what you were going to do, but he couldn’t escape in time.”

Victoria collapsed. She knelt on the cold floor, right where she had slapped me.

Tonight, she came here to disrupt the wedding, to prevent Julian from gaining control of the trust (which is only activated upon marriage). She feared that once Julian took control, he would discover the trust was empty.

She didn’t realize that this wedding was actually a trap.

Julian and I had secretly registered our marriage last month. The lavish party today, with all the media and officials invited, was just to lure her into showing up. We knew she wouldn’t miss the chance to humiliate me in front of everyone. We needed her here, in this state, so the FBI arrest warrant could take effect immediately.

And her slap? That was the final piece of the puzzle. A public assault, giving the police more reason to detain her if the economic arrest warrant went awry.

“Why?” She looked at Julian, tears—or anger—streaming down her heavily made-up face. “I’m your mother. I do all this for this family.”

“No,” Julian shook his head, his voice broken but firm. “You do all this for yourself. You love money more than your father. And you love power more than I.”

He turned his back on her. “Take her away.”

Chapter 3: The End

The FBI agents dragged Victoria to the car. The siren faded into the distance, leaving a heavy silence in the banquet hall.

The guests stood frozen. They had just witnessed the collapse of an empire, the shattering of a family, and the rise of a brutal truth.

I stood there, my hand trembling as I touched my cheek.

Julian turned and took my hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t think she would hit you. I was going to intervene sooner.”

“It’s okay,” I said, looking into my husband’s eyes. I saw the pain there. Though she was a monster, she was still his mother. Tonight, he had personally sent his mother to prison to get justice for his father. “This slap… a bargain for your freedom.”

Julian gently kissed the red mark on my cheek.

“She was right about one thing,” he said, smiling sadly. “You’re not a traditional bride. You’re my hero.”

I looked down at my white tuxedo. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was powerful.

I picked up my champagne glass and raised it high.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said loudly, my voice echoing throughout the room. “I apologize for the drama just now. But as they say: The truth will set us free. This wedding… perhaps we don’t need to cut the cake anymore.”

People began to applaud. At first, a few, then a thunderous roar. They weren’t applauding for a fairytale wedding. They were applauding for courage.

That night, Julian and I didn’t go out.

It was our honeymoon. We sat on the mansion’s balcony, drinking cheap wine and gazing at the night sea.

“Do you think you’re cruel?” Julian asked.

“Cruel?” I leaned my head on his shoulder. “She called me an idiot. But I think the most foolish person is the one who underestimates the power of truth.”

The waves lapped against the shore. Under the moonlight, I knew the war was over. Victoria would pay for her crimes. And we, we would start anew from the ashes, building a new empire – not with lies, but with transparency and love.

And perhaps, next time, I’ll wear a dress. Just to tease her if she sees the news from prison.