A week before my wedding, my fiancé paid a man to destr0y my face with ac:id so he could secretly marry another woman. While pretending to remain unconscious in the hospital, I heard him say, “If she’s left scarred, even better.” I didn’t scream. I waited until he left and asked for one thing… because I had just discovered that the attack wasn’t his worst betrayal.

“If Genevieve shows up to that wedding with her face untouched, Sabrina will never be able to take her place.”

I heard that sentence one week before I was supposed to marry Christian Prescott, one of the country’s most famous singers, while pretending to remain unconscious in a private hospital room at St. Jude Medical Center in Columbus.

Hours earlier, after leaving a dress fitting in downtown Indianapolis, a man approached me pretending to ask for a photo for Christian. He pulled out a bottle and threw acid onto the right side of my face. I remember the burning pain, my screams, and the pavement rushing toward me. Then everything went black.

When I woke up, my face was covered in bandages. I kept my eyes closed. I was terrified to discover what was left of the woman Christian had kissed for five years.

Then I heard Gabriel, his manager.

“You could have ended things with Genevieve,” he said angrily. “You could have canceled the wedding. Why pay someone to do this to her?”

My heart stopped.

Christian answered with a calmness that chilled me more than the hospital air conditioning.

“Because if I left Genevieve one week before the wedding, all of America would start looking for Sabrina. I needed Genevieve to be unable to show up and everyone to believe I was the devastated fiancé.”

Gabriel called him sick.

“At least find her the best reconstructive surgeon.”

“It’s not necessary,” Christian replied. “If she’s left scarred, even better. I’ll take care of her. She’ll have a house, money, nurses. After this, who do you think is going to want to leave me?”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Then he said something even worse.

“She can’t have children anymore. I took care of that a long time ago.”

I remembered three miscarriages. Three nights spent in emergency rooms. Three times Christian had cried with me, stroked my hair, and told me it wasn’t my fault.

“What did you do?” Gabriel asked.

“Dr. Lawson adjusted a few things. Vitamins, treatments, doses. Whatever was necessary to make sure she couldn’t get pregnant again.”

I wanted to rip off the bandages and scream.

But there was still something even more cruel.

Christian lowered his voice.

“Leo is already four years old. Sabrina is tired of hiding him. After the legal wedding, I’ll bring him home. Genevieve won’t have the face to go public, she won’t be able to give me children, and she’ll depend on me. Eventually, she’ll accept the boy.”

Leo.

His son with Sabrina.

While I buried pregnancies I believed I had lost by sheer bad luck, Christian had already built a secret family.

Gabriel took a moment to respond.

“And you still plan to marry Genevieve?”

“Of course. It’s convenient. My image with her is worth millions. Sabrina just wants to have a ceremony once, even if it’s private. I can give her that and still have Genevieve as my public wife.”

Then he ordered Gabriel to get the man who attacked me out of the country.

After Gabriel left, Christian approached my bed. He took my hand with the same tenderness he used to show whenever he comforted me during the threats from his fans.

“Wake up soon, my love,” he whispered. “We still have a wedding to have.”

At that moment, I understood that for five years, I had never been his great love.

I had been his alibi.

I didn’t open my eyes until I heard the door close.

Then Gabriel came back. He saw that I was awake and went pale.

I raised one finger to my lips.

“Help me,” I whispered.

“To report him?”

I slowly shook my head.

“First, help me stay alive.”

Gabriel glanced toward the hallway and realized Christian still believed he had complete control over me.

And yet, what was about to happen was so unbelievable that even today, I still struggle to believe it…

Gabriel locked the hospital door and lowered the blinds.

“How much did you hear?”

“Everything.”

His face collapsed.

I asked him to photograph my medical chart and find a nurse Christian couldn’t influence.

Then I made him promise something harder.

“Christian cannot know I’m awake.”

For the next forty-eight hours, I remained his unconscious fiancée.

Christian visited twice.

Both times, I kept my breathing slow while he held my hand and performed grief for anyone watching.

The second night, he brought Dr. Lawson.

I recognized the name immediately.

The doctor Christian claimed had manipulated my treatments.

“She’ll recover?” Christian asked.

“Eventually.”

“And she still can’t conceive?”

Dr. Lawson hesitated.

“That situation is permanent.”

My nails dug into my palm beneath the blanket.

After they left, Gabriel returned with copies of my records.

Three medications had been prescribed during my pregnancies that my new physician said made no sense for my medical history.

But Gabriel had discovered something else.

Christian had secretly paid Dr. Lawson hundreds of thousands of dollars through a consulting company.

I finally called Detective Mara Collins.

By sunrise, the hospital had preserved security footage, my records were secured, and investigators were quietly tracing Christian’s payments.

I thought that was enough.

Then Gabriel placed another folder beside me.

“Sabrina contacted me.”

My stomach tightened.

“She knows?”

“More than we do.”

Sabrina arrived through a service entrance that afternoon.

I expected a glamorous rival.

Instead, she entered crying.

“I didn’t know about the attack,” she said immediately.

I believed nothing until she unlocked her phone.

There were messages from Christian.

Bank transfers.

Photographs.

Then an audio recording.

Christian’s voice filled the room.

Once Genevieve signs after the wedding, everything becomes easier.

I looked at Sabrina.

“Signs what?”

She swallowed.

“A revised financial agreement.”

Christian apparently intended to gain control over several assets I had inherited from my grandfather.

But Sabrina had discovered another document while searching his apartment.

She handed me a photograph.

It was a life-insurance policy.

Twenty million dollars.

Christian was listed as beneficiary.

My hands went cold.

Then I noticed the effective date.

The policy had been opened four years earlier.

Before my first miscarriage.

Sabrina whispered, “Genevieve, the attack wasn’t his first attempt.”

Behind us, Gabriel suddenly locked the door.

And said, “There’s one more person you need to meet.”

Gabriel opened the door.

A woman in a dark coat stepped inside.

I knew her face immediately.

Christian’s former personal assistant, Elena Ward.

She had disappeared three years earlier after the tabloids claimed she had stolen money from him.

Elena placed a small recorder on my hospital table.

“I never stole anything,” she said. “I found out what he was doing.”

She explained that four years earlier, Christian had instructed Dr. Lawson to alter medications prescribed during my pregnancies. Elena discovered invoices linking Lawson’s clinic to one of Christian’s shell companies.

When she threatened to expose them, Christian destroyed her reputation and paid her to disappear.

But she had kept copies.

Detective Collins arrived twenty minutes later.

When she heard Elena’s recording, her expression changed.

Christian’s voice was unmistakable.

“If Genevieve dies naturally, the policy solves everything.”

Nobody in the room spoke.

Suddenly, my damaged face seemed almost secondary.

The attack hadn’t been meant simply to scar me.

It had been Plan B.

Detective Collins wanted Christian arrested immediately, but I asked for one thing.

“Let him believe the wedding is still happening.”

Seven days later, hundreds of guests filled the cathedral.

Cameras waited outside.

Christian stood at the altar in a black tuxedo, performing heartbreak for the world.

Then the doors opened.

I walked inside.

My face was still bandaged, but I was standing.

Christian went completely white.

I stopped halfway down the aisle.

“You look surprised.”

He forced a smile.

“Genevieve, you should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough.”

Detective Collins entered behind me.

Then Sabrina.

Then Elena.

Finally, Gabriel walked forward carrying a tablet connected to the cathedral’s sound system.

Christian’s own recorded voice filled the room.

“If she’s left scarred, even better.”

Gasps spread through the pews.

Christian stepped backward.

Then came the recording about my pregnancies.

Then the insurance policy.

Then the payment to the attacker.

Christian tried to run.

He made it three steps before detectives grabbed him.

Dr. Lawson was arrested that afternoon.

The attacker was detained at an airport before boarding an international flight.

Investigators eventually charged Christian with conspiracy connected to the assault, financial crimes, and multiple offenses uncovered through the investigation.

My inherited assets remained mine.

Sabrina testified.

So did Gabriel.

And Elena finally cleared her name.

Months later, surgeons removed the last bandage from my face.

The scars were visible.

For several minutes, I stared at myself in the mirror.

Then I remembered Christian’s words.

After this, who would want her?

I smiled.

He had misunderstood everything.

The question had never been who would want me.