"I’m sleeping with your fiancé. And just so you know—I’m still going to take him. Because you’re going to marry him by pregnancy. I advise you to think carefully before you say yes to him"—that’s the message that came to my phone right before the wedding.
“Somebody’s stupid prank,” my sister insisted as she adjusted my gorgeous dazzling white dress. “Not enough girls has Bulat sent away? Here’s one of them, deciding to get revenge on you. Come on, darling, it’s time”—and she shoved a bouquet into my hands and nudged me toward the aisle.
The guests held their breath. And I walked on cotton legs, seeing only Him—the man I love with all my heart. Today he’s supposed to become my husband.
But suddenly the music was replaced by wet, vulgar moans. And on a big screen in the middle of the hall, a repeat of a short video flashed on—starring my fiancé.