Moments before my son’s wedding, I saw my husband kissing his bride. I rushed to confront them, but my son stopped me and revealed evidence of a deeper, darker betrayal.

“Mom,” he whispered, grabbing my arm before I could enter. “Don’t. Please.”

“This—this is unforgivable,” I stopped. “I’m going to end this now.”

He shook his head. “I know. And it’s worse than you think.”

Worse? How could it be worse than watching my wife and my future daughter-in-law kiss like lovers?

“Elijah,” I whispered, “what do you mean?”

He swallowed hard. “I’ve been gathering evidence for weeks. Dad and Madison… they’ve been seeing each other for months. Hotels. Dinners. Money transfers. Everything.”

I staggered back. “Money transfers?”

His jaw tightened. “Dad drained your retirement accounts. You forged your signature. Madison stole from his law firm. They’re both criminals, Mom.”

My head was spinning. This wasn’t just an affair. This was a full-blown conspiracy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.

“Because I needed proof,” he said. “Not just for us… but for everyone. I wanted the truth to destroy them, not us.”

My son—my quiet, gentle Elijah—suddenly looked older than his twenty-three years. Tough. Determined.

“And now?” I asked.

“Now,” he said, “I need you to trust me.”

Inside the house, Franklin and Madison moved from the fireplace to the sofa. Their bodies were together. Laughing. Whispering.

My stomach churned.

“Elijah,” I whispered, “what’s your plan?”

He looked out the window, eyes dark with purpose. “We’re not stopping the wedding. We’re exposing them at the altar. In front of everyone they lied to.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Do you want to publicly humiliate them?”

“I want justice,” he said. “And I want to hurt.”

His voice was steely.

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