Part 6
The next morning, the world woke up believing my wedding had simply fallen apart.
They were wrong.
It wasn’t a failed wedding.
It was an exposed operation.
And I was finally seeing the truth.
My father’s security team had moved quickly. By sunrise, every account connected to Maverick had been frozen for investigation. Every company tied to his name was being reviewed. Every transaction was being traced.
But there was one name that kept appearing.
Monica Reed.
The woman behind everything.
I sat in my father’s office overlooking the city, staring at the documents spread across the glass table.
For years, I had walked into rooms where people talked about money like it was the most important thing in the world.
I never cared.
Until someone tried to use it against me.
“Monica Reed,” I whispered.
My father stood by the window.
“She’s dangerous.”
I looked up.
“More dangerous than Maverick?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
That was my answer.
“Yes.”
The word landed heavily.
I turned another page.
“Then why didn’t you stop her before?”
My father’s expression hardened.
“Because we didn’t know how far she had gone.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
He walked back to the table.
“Monica doesn’t attack people directly.”
He tapped the documents.
“She creates people like Maverick.”
A chill moved through me.
“She finds ambitious men.”
“Men who feel overlooked.”
“Men who believe the world owes them something.”
My father looked at me.
“Then she gives them a shortcut.”
I understood.
Power.
Money.
Control.
“And I was the shortcut.”
My father’s silence confirmed it.
For a moment, I felt that familiar pain again.
The pain of realizing every sweet moment with Maverick might have been fake.
The first date.
The first kiss.
The night he proposed.
All of it.
A performance.
My father noticed my expression.
“Amy.”
I looked up.
“Don’t let him take those memories from you.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Just because he was pretending doesn’t mean your feelings weren’t real.”
That hurt more than I expected.
Because he was right.
I had loved him honestly.
That part belonged to me.
Not him.
My phone rang.
It was my lawyer.
I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice was serious.
“We found something.”
My back straightened.
“What?”
“There is a hidden account.”
My father immediately looked at me.
“Connected to Maverick?”
“Yes.”
The lawyer continued.
“But that’s not the strange part.”
“What is?”
A pause.
“The account was created six months before you met him.”
I froze.
Six months.
Before our first date.
Before he knew me.
Before he even entered my life.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“So he was planning this before he met me.”
“Yes.”
The room became silent.
My father closed his eyes briefly.
Because now we knew.
This wasn’t a relationship that went wrong.
It was a mission.
A carefully planned attack.
“Send me everything,” I said.
“We already did.”
I opened the new file.
The first document was a timeline.
And there it was.
Every step.
Maverick had researched my family.
My habits.
My schedule.
My interests.
Even the places I visited.
Then I saw something that made my stomach turn.
A note.
Written by Maverick.
Target: Amy Carter.
Target.
Not girlfriend.
Not partner.
Not future wife.
Target.
I stared at that word.
And something inside me changed.
The sadness disappeared.
Only determination remained.
My father watched me carefully.
“What are you thinking?”
I closed the file.
“I’m going to expose him.”
He nodded.
“But carefully.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because desperate people are unpredictable.”
I remembered the messages.
You think you won?
My father was right.
Maverick wasn’t finished.
Neither was Monica.
That afternoon, I received another message.
Unknown number.
This time there was a photo attached.
I opened it.
My blood ran cold.
It was me.
Walking into my father’s office.
Taken from across the street.
A recent photo.
Someone was watching.
Another message appeared.
You should have stayed the broken bride.
My hand shook.
Not from fear.
From anger.
I showed my father.
His face became ice.
He immediately called security.
But I stopped him.
“Wait.”
He looked at me.
“Amy?”
I stared at the message.
Then I smiled.
A small, cold smile.
“They want a reaction.”
My father said nothing.
“They want me scared.”
I placed the phone on the table.
“But they made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
I looked at him.
“They forgot I’m not alone anymore.”
My father nodded slowly.
Then he picked up his phone.
“Good.”
He turned away.
“Because now we stop defending.”
He looked back at me.
“Now we attack.”
That evening, Monica finally called.
Not a message.
A call.
My father’s security team traced the number.
But I answered anyway.
I needed to hear her voice.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman spoke.
Calm.
Confident.
“Am I speaking to Amy Carter?”
I sat back.
“Yes.”
A soft laugh.
“I have to admit, I underestimated you.”
I looked out the window.
“You underestimated a lot of things.”
She laughed again.
“Maverick always said you were emotional.”
I smiled.
“And he was wrong.”
A pause.
“He also said you were easy to control.”
My jaw tightened.
“And now?”
Another pause.
“Now I think you’re a problem.”
I smiled.
Finally.
Honesty.
“Good.”
She went quiet.
“Amy…”
Her voice lowered.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
I looked at the evidence.
The lies.
The betrayal.
The entire plan.
“Yes.”
I answered.
“I do.”
A pause.
“You think this is about money.”
She continued.
“It isn’t.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Then what is it about?”
Silence.
Then Monica said the one sentence I wasn’t prepared for.
“It’s about your father.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
She continued.
“Maverick wasn’t chosen because of your money.”
A cold feeling spread through me.
“He was chosen because of who your father destroyed.”
I stood.
“What are you talking about?”
But she didn’t answer.
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
My father looked at me.
“What did she say?”
I slowly lowered the phone.
“She said…”
My voice weakened.
“This was never about me.”
My father’s expression changed.
“Then what?”
I looked at him.
“It was revenge.”
And suddenly…
May you like
the wedding betrayal became something much bigger.
Something that started years before I was even born.
