WHAT WAS IN THE GROOM’S POCKET
The glass of red wine slipped from the silver tray, spun once in the air, then poured straight down the groom’s chest.
A sharp crash echoed through the luxurious wedding hall.
The entire room went silent.
Red wine spread across Ethan Vale’s expensive white suit like a long wound beneath the crystal lights. The guests, who had just been raising their glasses in celebration, froze. The string quartet stopped playing. Even the camera shutters fell silent.
Ethan looked down at his chest.
One second.
Two seconds.
Then his elegant face twisted with rage.
“You idiot!”
He grabbed the waiter by the collar and yanked him close. The black bow tie around the waiter’s neck was pulled crooked, but the waiter did not fight back. He only looked at Ethan with a calmness that felt almost terrifying.
The bride, Clara Whitmore, stood a few steps away, her white bouquet trembling in her hands.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
But right before the ceremony, the man she was about to call her husband was gripping a waiter’s collar in front of hundreds of guests.
Ethan clenched his jaw, his voice thick with humiliation.
“Do you know how much this suit costs?”
The waiter looked at him.
Then he turned his eyes toward Clara.
That look made her heart drop.
It was not fear.
It was not pleading.
It was as if he had been waiting for this exact moment for a very long time.
Ethan shoved him away. The waiter staggered, lightly wiped the corner of his mouth, then stood straight again.
He spoke slowly.
“The suit can be cleaned.”
The entire wedding hall went still.
The waiter slowly raised his hand and pointed at Ethan’s breast pocket, where the red wine was soaking deep into the white fabric.
Ethan’s expression changed.
For one brief moment, his anger turned into panic.
He immediately placed his hand over the pocket.
Clara saw it.
And the blood in her body seemed to turn cold.
The waiter kept looking at Clara, his voice calm but sharp as a blade.
“But what’s in your pocket can’t.”
The bouquet slipped from Clara’s hands and fell onto the marble floor.
No one knew what was inside the groom’s pocket.
But Clara knew one thing.
May you like
Ethan was no longer afraid of the ruined suit.
He was afraid of the truth being exposed.
