On My Wedding Day, My Mother-in-Law Handed Me a Note.

— I Fled Through the Back Door and Disappeared for 15 Years

My eyes locked onto my mother-in-law, whose expression looked as if she had just seen a ghost. In her trembling hand, a small envelope swung nervously, and her eyes reflected silent panic. The loud music in the banquet hall of the old mansion drowned out all other sounds, making our brief exchange completely private.

That sunny May morning was supposed to be perfect. My fiancé Sergei’s grand family mansion looked stunning. The waiters were arranging crystal glasses with meticulous precision, and the air was filled with the scent of fresh roses mixed with the refined aroma of French champagne. The gold-framed portraits on the walls seemed to watch over everything in silent observation.

— “Anastasia, have you noticed how strange Sergei is acting today?” — my mother-in-law whispered, casting a nervous glance around.

I frowned. Sergei had indeed been tense all day. He now stood at the far end of the room, holding his phone to his ear, his face stiff — as if he were hiding something.

— “It’s probably just pre-wedding nerves,” I replied, trying to hide my own unease as I adjusted my veil.

— “Read this. Right now,” she murmured, discreetly slipping an envelope into my hands before disappearing among the guests, quickly resuming her elegant posture and rehearsed social smile.

Curious and unsettled, I walked toward a more secluded column and quickly opened the note. My heart raced.

“Sergei and his family plan to get rid of you after the wedding. You are part of a scheme. They know about your family’s inheritance. Run if you want to live.”

My immediate reaction was to laugh. It had to be an absurd joke — maybe a cruel trick from my mother-in-law herself. But then I remembered all the times Sergei had ended phone calls the moment I entered the room. His sudden coldness. The way he had started watching me… as if calculating something.

My eyes searched the room and found his. Sergei had ended his call and was now staring at me. But that look wasn’t from the man I had fallen in love with — it was empty, calculated. A stranger.

— “Nastya!” — my friend called out excitedly. — “It’s time!”

— “I’m coming! I just need to stop by the restroom real quick!”

Without hesitation, I turned on my heel and quickly walked toward the service corridor, disguising my urgency with a gentle smile. As soon as I reached the street, I tore off my shoes, lifted my dress, and ran as fast as I could — without looking back.

That day, I left everything behind: the dress, the guests, my story, my identity.
I even left my name behind.

And for 15 years, no one knew where I had gone.

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