Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 25: Open Secret

For a moment, Gianna didn’t understand the words that came out of Chelsea’s mouth. They floated in the air like smoke—shapeless, meaningless, unreal.

Your one-night stand was Zane?

Her brain stumbled. First confusion—thick, sluggish, like molasses clogging her thoughts. Then the words sank in. Hard. Sharp.

Zane. One-night stand.

Shock jolted through her like a slap, awakening every nerve. Her fingers twitched. Her breath snagged. Her stomach dropped as if the floor had caved under her.

Fear followed—cold, creeping fear—racing beneath her skin. The kind that tightened her chest and sent her heart hammering against her ribs. Because if Chelsea and Areso knew... then others knew. And if others knew...

But the fear lasted only a heartbeat.

Rage came next—violent, scorching, immediate. A wildfire blazing through her veins. Rage at Zane’s existence, his idiocy, his negligence, his... him.

Every memory of that morning—his infuriating calm, his promise that he would take care of it—all of it surged like fuel thrown into her fury.

Murderous intent. That was the only accurate phrase. She could kill him. She could wring his neck, snap it, throw him off something tall—it didn’t matter.

If he appeared before her this second, she would commit crimes cheerfully.

Chelsea swallowed, watching her expression shift through emotions like flipping pages in a book. "Gianna... is it true? It just went viral fifteen minutes ago."

Her voice cracked. "And what is this about a marriage certificate?"

Gianna didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Instead, she gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached, and marched forward—anger in every step, every breath, every tremor in her body. She snatched Chelsea’s phone with a force that made her friend’s fingers jolt open, and scrolled.

Her vision blurred. Not from tears but from disbelief.

And then she saw it.

The certificate. The one she had torn into tiny, hateful shreds that morning. The one she had shredded like it was filth. The one she had sworn never to see again.

Except it was right there. Whole. Clear. Blurred only at the edges to hide the registry seal, but unmistakably the same document.

Her skin went pale. A sickening weight slammed into her stomach. Her head began to pound, a familiar, cruel pain—the kind that pressed behind her eyes and made the world tilt. She desperately needed her medication.

Without it, the headache would spiral, and sleep—sleep she had been so desperate for—would be impossible.

"That’s not all," Areso murmured, voice tight.

Beside the certificate was a photo. A photo of her and Zane outside the hotel they had stayed in.

She looked... dazed. He looked amused. They looked... together.

Her heart stopped. At what point did she look like this?

And had a reporter, someone, followed her? Or... had it been Zane? He was the bigger celebrity. The heir—now chief—of the empire his father left behind.

With the old man’s death, reporters had multiplied like flies. They had lurked outside his house, his office, his events. Even his friends weren’t spared.

It had only died down in recent weeks, with each interview he and the family gave.

So why now?

A noise tore from her throat when one of the netizens asked for evidence and the anonymous poster... dropped the registry name. The time. The date.

"What?" she hissed, voice cracking. "Didn’t Zane say he would take care of this?"

Her thoughts spun wildly.

He had sent her the morning-after pill, hadn’t he? He had promised that he would annul it. That the drunken mistake would be erased.

So why was the marriage certificate plastered all over the internet? What game was he playing?

Her fingers scrolled, trembling, skimming the comments, ignoring her friends.

Rumors sprouted like weeds. Some calling them a "power couple." Others—idiots—claiming he had helped her career. That he had handed her success. That she had schemed to marry him, to gain something—anything—from him.

One overactive troll even suggested she convinced him to steal the Auretto Company from Dane so she could own it someday. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Don’t they know I work at Becketts? How stupid..."

Her breathing became uneven. Her vision shimmered. Her hands shook so violently the phone trembled.

"Gianna," Chelsea whispered, reaching for her.

It wasn’t until her friend said, "Calm down," that Gianna realized she was not calm at all. Her hand was trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes burned—angry tears begging to spill.

She swallowed hard. Once. Twice. Her throat felt raw.

Areso and Chelsea shared a look before guiding her gently toward the bed. She didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Her body felt too light and too heavy all at once. They eased her onto the mattress like she was fragile glass.

Silence filled the room.

A heavy, uncertain silence. They were clearly trying to figure out how to ask, how to soothe her without triggering her. They knew she hated Zane. They knew he was a wound she didn’t want touched.

Gianna breathed slowly, once, twice, then decided to save them the trouble—and herself the irritation.

"Yes," she said flatly. "He was my one-night stand."

Both women froze.

Gianna stared at the floor. "I didn’t tell you because it was shameful." Her voice dropped. "Till today, I don’t remember how it happened."

Chelsea’s and Areso’s expressions softened in unison. They knew her memory issues. They knew her brain wasn’t as sturdy as it once was—that the old accident had taken something from her. Something she tried very hard to hide.

They didn’t comment. Instead, soft hands patted her shoulders gently. Reassuringly.

"And yes," Gianna continued with a dry laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all, "we foolishly got married at a registry."

The patting stopped instantly. Both of them gaped at her. Hearing her confirm it was something else.

She didn’t look up. "He promised he would take care of it. He promised. He even sent me the morning-after pill. So why," her voice cracked, "why am I seeing our certificate on the socials? What game is he playing now?"

"Maybe he did take care of it," Areso said cautiously. "Maybe the reporter got a copy before he filed it? Or that same night? It’s possible."

Gianna scoffed bitterly but didn’t argue. She didn’t trust herself to speak without screaming.

Chelsea exhaled, rubbing her forehead. "You can stay home tomorrow to avoid the press. I’ll meet Zane myself."

Gianna lifted her head sharply, ready to disagree, to argue, to refuse—

But Chelsea raised a hand.

"I’m sure he’s already working overtime to fix this," she added. "But someone should talk to him. Preferably someone who won’t strangle him."

Gianna didn’t agree still, but she said nothing. Best to let her friends think they had the situation handled.

She shut her eyes, feeling the deep, desperate exhaustion catching up with her.

This was the last thing she needed. The very last thing.

Because she knew that this wasn’t something that would die down tomorrow. Or next week.

Damn! She cussed, remembering the convention. She would really strangle Zane.