From abandoned girlfriend to tycoon’s lover (Copy)

🎤 Chapter 7 — A Toast of Poisoned Honey

Just as I was about to return to my seat, Isabel grabbed the microphone.

Her frail figure, dressed in my gown, moved to the center of the stage.

“Wait, María,” she called softly. “I just… I have something I need to say.”

The room fell into silence again.

She looked at the audience, eyes filled with tears, voice trembling just the right amount to be believable.

“I want to thank someone very special… my sister, María.”

A beat. Everyone turned to look at me again.

“I have a terminal illness,” Isabel continued. “My greatest dream was to marry the man I love… and thanks to María’s understanding and generosity, I get to fulfill that dream today.”

Her voice cracked, perfectly timed. She sniffled, clutching the mic dramatically.

“She didn’t have to accept this… but she did. Please don’t judge her harshly. She’s the best sister I could ask for.”

A few guests began to nod, murmuring softly.

What was happening?

She was flipping the narrative—turning me into the villain if I didn’t play along. If I remained cold, I’d look bitter. If I objected, I’d be heartless. She was manipulating the entire room.

Then she turned to me, those glassy eyes sparkling like she was on death’s door.

“María,” she whispered into the mic, “do you hate me?”

There it was.

The final trap.

Everyone turned to me again. Even the emcee looked uncomfortable as he held out a second microphone.

I could feel my blood boiling.

She was publicly cornering me, forcing me to absolve her, to validate her betrayal, to hand her a shining crown right before she died.

And that’s when I decided: Fine. You want a performance? I’ll give you one you’ll never forget.

I took the mic.

Smiled sweetly.

Walked slowly back onto the stage.

And said:

“Actually, I’m the one who should be thanking you, Isabel.”

A wave of confusion passed over the audience.

I continued calmly.

“Thank you for taking something I didn’t realize had turned into a problem.”

Murmurs rippled through the room.

“Love should be mutual. And if a man can leave you for your dying sister without hesitation… was it really love?”

Isabel’s eyes widened.

Antonio looked deeply uncomfortable.

I turned to face the audience, my voice steady and clear.

“They didn’t steal my man. They took out the trash for me.”

Gasps. A few chuckles.

And then I delivered the line that would echo through that golden hall like a bomb:

“In my hometown, we have a saying: For two snakes who bite the same apple, even death won’t part them.”

The silence was nuclear.

Then someone in the back clapped. Others joined. Then a wave of applause filled the room—some sincere, others sarcastic.

“Bravo!” someone called. “Say it again!”

I gave a graceful bow and turned toward Isabel, whose expression had shattered completely.

“You asked if I hate you,” I said, softening my tone just a little. “The truth? No. I’m grateful. Because you saved me from marrying a man who doesn’t deserve me.”

I smiled sweetly, then whispered close enough for her to hear:

“And now, everyone else knows it too.”

That’s when I felt the slap.

A sharp sting on my cheek.

My face snapped to the side.

My father. Mariano. Face red, hands shaking.

“You little monster!” he growled. “Just like your mother! You were born to ruin me!”

I turned to face him slowly, the mark on my face burning.

“You don’t get to mention her,” I said icily. “You’re the reason she died.”

Now the guests were whispering louder.

Carmen tried to regain control. “María, stop this madness—”

“Why?” I said coldly. “It’s not my wedding.”

Antonio finally stepped in, desperate to salvage the situation.

“María, what’s the point of all this? Why make a scene?”

I turned to him, eyes narrowed.

“That suit you’re wearing?” I asked sweetly. “It was designed for Puppy—my dog. You just got the wrong label.”

Laughter burst through the audience.

Antonio’s face turned red.

I wasn’t done.

I leaned closer and added, “You and Isabel are a perfect match. She stole my dress… you stole Puppy’s suit. God really does make couples in heaven.”

“María, I swear—!” Mariano lunged at me again, hand raised.

This time, he didn’t miss.

But I didn’t stay still either.

I grabbed his wrist, twisted hard, and shoved him back.

“Touch me again and you’ll leave here in a wheelchair,” I warned, my voice like ice.

A few men in the crowd stood up—ready to step in if needed.

Mariano looked around, suddenly aware of how many people were watching… and judging.

He backed off.

I stepped down from the stage and returned to my seat, calm as ever.

The ceremony stumbled forward after that, but no one was paying attention.

They were still watching me.

Or rather, what I had just done.

And somewhere, I knew… this was only the beginning.