On their wedding night, the husband brought his mistress and forced his wife to kneel and witness their lovemaking.

An hour later, the wife unleashed hell on them both.
The wedding night should have been the beginning of happiness, but for Elena Morales, that day was pure hell.

Her husband, Adrián Serrano, not only brought his mistress on their wedding night, but he also forced her to kneel and watch them consummate their passion on their very own wedding bed.

However, an hour later, the man who believed he had the right to revenge could not have imagined that the prey he despised would transform into the most ruthless of predators, inflicting on him and his mistress a pain worse than death.

The countless lights of Madrid embroidered the night with dazzling splendor, like a luxurious, artificial Milky Way.

In the presidential suite of the Palace Hotel, Madrid’s most prestigious hotel, resided another kind of beauty, the beauty of beginnings and happiness.

Elena Morales sat silently on the edge of the bed.

Her hands rested neatly on her pure silk wedding dress, a masterpiece of craftsmanship with intricate embroidery.

The silver threads that seemed to bloom from the hem of the dress were so elegant and noble they seemed to have a life of their own.

The room was filled with the sweet scent of white roses and scented candles.

She felt slightly dizzy, perhaps from the glass of wine she had drunk alone a moment ago.

Today was her wedding day, the day she officially became the wife of Adrián Serrano, a man she loved with all her heart and soul, whom she had known for two years and loved for one.

Elena Morales sat silently on the edge of the bed.

Her love wasn’t a blazing fire, but a steady, warm current like a river.
He was the young, brilliant, and chivalrous director of the Serrano Group, a perfect man in everyone’s eyes, and most importantly, he had always treated her with respect and tenderness.

She smiled, gently caressing the cool silk sheets with her long, slender fingers.

From the ceremony to this bridal suite, everything had been perfect.
All that was missing was Adrián’s return after attending to the guests for their perfect marriage to officially begin.

Time dragged on exasperatingly.
The candle wax had hardened, the wine on the table had cooled, and the clock had passed from 11 to midnight.
The happy anticipation faded, giving way to a nameless unease.

She picked up her phone to call him, but held back.
He would be very busy.
She didn’t want to disturb him.

Click.

A sharp sound broke the silence, and the door opened.
Elena stood up joyfully, a radiant smile lighting up her face.
He had returned, but her smile froze instantly at the scene before her.

Adrián had entered, but he wasn’t alone.
Beside him, or rather, clinging affectionately to his arm, was Lucía Jiménez.
Her best friend, Lucía, wore a tight black slip dress that revealed every curve of her body.
Her face, usually sweet and innocent, was gone, replaced by a mocking smile and an expression of open contempt and triumph directed at Elena.

The Adrián Elena knew had vanished.
The man standing before her now had an icy face, and in his deep black eyes, instead of familiar warmth, there was only fierce hatred and unfathomable cruelty.

He didn’t even glance at the wedding dress she was wearing.

Elena felt as if an immense rock were pressing on her chest, leaving her breathless.