The Wife He Couldn't Afford

The organ music swelled, a majestic sound meant to signal joy, but all I felt was a cold dread seeping into my bones.

Amidst Savannah' s elite, I, Annabel Anderson, stood in my custom-made wedding gown, a perfect Southern belle about to secure a vital political alliance.

My fiancé, Wesley Scott, was arrogant and entitled, and I didn't love him, but this was my path.

Just as the wedding march was about to begin, a bridesmaid burst in, gasping, "Annabel, it' s Gabrielle! They found her in her room. Pills."