The Unholy Bride: In God's Name, I Kill

Chapter 7: +1

"SURPRISE!!" My soul leapt out of my body and I extended both of my arms in defensive mode as these people in front of me shouted as soon as I opened the door of the Steel's mansion.

Darting my eyes on them one by one, I slowly calmed down, lowered my arms, and took a deep sigh of relief as my heart slowed down. "What is happening? What are all of these for?" I asked, scanning the balloons, cakes, and scattered colorful party poppers on the floor.

"It's our birthday surprise for you!" Catherine exclaimed, and my forehead creased as she wore a party hat above my head before pulling me towards the crowd of people who were beaming at me.

"My birthday?" I whispered to myself, which she still heard.

"Yeah? It's your 29th birthday today, Mary. Have you forgotten?" she asked, and that's when I remembered—today was indeed my birthday. I couldn't help but chuckle at myself for losing track of the years, all because I'd been so caught up in executing my plans.

People were greeting me as I walked past them, so I smiled, until I heard my name being called by a tiny familiar voice.

"Mawy!" Searching for the girl, I found her being carried by Enzo in his firm muscular arms while they made their way toward me, both smiling from ear to ear. "Wapi Burthey!"

I couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you, Scarlette."

"Happy Birthday, Mary," Enzo greeted next. "I have a gift for you. I hope you'll like it." He handed me a medium-sized box wrapped in red. Taking it, I shook the box, curious about what was inside, which earned a soft chuckle from the man. "Go ahead, open it," he urged, so I did.

"A book?" I uttered right the moment I unwrapped the gift and lifted my gaze back at Enzo.

"Catherine mentioned she ran into you at the library, so I figured you liked reading." He scratched his cheek, his expression shifting slightly. "I wasn't sure what to give you, Mary, so I'm hoping you'll enjoy this book. It's one of my favorites."

"Thank you, Enzo. I really appreci–"

"Can I borrow my wife for a moment?" We were interrupted by Roman, who snaked his arm around my waist.

"Sure," Enzo replied, turning around with Scarlette to leave us.

"Happy Birthday, hon," my husband whispered as he kissed my temple. "Let me introduce you to my friends and colleagues," he said, so I followed him until we reached a crowd of men wearing formal attires like tuxedos and suits.

He cleared his throat to get their attention, which worked as they all turned their head on us. "Gentlemen, meet my wife, Mary Steel."

All of them flashed a grin at me and greeted a happy birthday, but one of them stood out as he didn't stick with the script.

"Wait, you are the woman," the man uttered, pointing his glass of whiskey at me with his head a little tilted.

Everybody stopped doing their business to pay him attention, while I stood frozen, holding my own breath and keeping an eye on him because of what he might say next. He was the man I'd locked eyes with when I caught my husband cheating on me with a woman on the sidewalk, and he must be recognizing me now. But to my surprise, he smirked and lowered his glass of whiskey before clicking his tongue in disappointment.

"Ah," he exhaled. "I've mistaken you for someone. I'm Noa Stroud, by the way." He offered me his hand, but I just stared at it, harvesting an annoying low chuckle from him.

I was so sure he fucking recognized me but chose not to expose me to my husband. My teeth gritted. This man, Noa Stroud, is fucking playing with me. We refused to avoid one another's eyes, but then someone called me, so our attention was shifted to the owner of the voice behind me.

"Mary! Birthday girl!" a man exclaimed, holding a gift in his hands, which he handed to me.

Mason Elwood—31 years old, born on the 21st of May 1993, a million-dollar real estate agent, and my husband's best friend. In fact, he was the best man at our wedding.

"Mason," I acknowledge his presence, taking his gift for me.

The gleam of his face brightened. "How are you, Mary? Did you miss me?"

I gave him a fake, unnoticeable smile. "My husband missed you more."

Upon the mention of his best friend, his forehead creased. "Where is that fucker?" he asked, scanning the room with his eyes. I seized the chance to slip away from him and search for my husband on my own, which didn't take long—because there he was, in the living room, caught in the act of cheating with the same woman I'd seen him make out with just a few weeks ago.

I didn't know that that bitch was also here, but instead of confronting them, I stayed in the corner of the room, away from the spotlight as I watched every one of my husband and his lover's moves. When he kissed her temple just like he did with mine just minutes ago, and she giggled, my eyes wandered to the things around them—banners, foods and drinks, gifts, tables, and lastly to the balloons above them and to the gas cylinder labeled with 'hydrogen gas'.

I silently plotted in my mind, then turned my attention back to the woman, focusing on her hair—stiff with hairspray to hold her curls in place. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. She was a walking fire hazard. With the hydrogen gas from the balloons floating above her and the hairspray coating her hair, she'd fucking burn easily.

They continued to flirt, and I waited patiently, until Roman left her to entertain some of the guests. That was when I approached the woman and smiled softly at her. "Hi, I'm Mary," I introduced myself using a friendly tone.

Her face brightened, then she offered me her hand. "You're Roman's wife, right?"

I ecstatically nodded my head, playing the innocent, stupid bitch facade. She knew. She fucking knew that the man she was flirting with was married, yet here she was, acting like they weren't fucking behind my back. She could have him all she wanted, but I wasn't done with him yet, so he was still mine.

While engaging in a casual, friendly conversation with her, I discreetly moved behind my back—plotting a lit incense beneath the balloons, then once I finally made sure that my plan would work, I excused myself and went back to my sport earlier in the corner.

Here, I patiently watched in slow motion as the smoke from the incense swirled upward, creeping toward the balloons, knowing that the chaos I had been waiting for was about to erupt. The woman—whose name didn't even matter—let out a shriek and spun around wildly, her hair igniting in an instant as the balloons burst, their pops sharp and deafening, like gunshots ringing through the air.

Leaning on the wall behind me, I crossed my arms, relaxed, opposite to the people around me who were running in circles to put out the mess I've created. As they screamed and panicked, the woman turned toward me, her eyes burning with rage, her hair a wild reflection of her fury. I laughed at my own thoughts, and laughed even louder when they splashed her with a bucket of cold water, drowning the word she screamed at me: "bitch!"