Honey Who Slashed the Bride

CHAPTER 1

The Freaks Come Out at Night

The weekend had officially begun.

Outside, thunder rolled across the water and faded into the distance. Inside, nobody paid any attention to it.

The black stretch limousine eased beneath the covered entrance as lightning flashed over the bay beyond the mansion. Rain rattled softly against the roof while a security guard hurried toward the rear passenger door carrying an oversized umbrella.

Vicky stared through the tinted glass and wondered for the tenth time why she had agreed to come.

"Snap out of it, girl," Sky said. "You're gonna have a good time."

Vicky smacked her chewing gum and kept staring ahead. "I ain't ever seen a mansion up close before." She blew a bubble and let it pop. "Only in magazines."

"Well, you're rich now and you'll probably be living in one soon."

"Hell no. That's too much room. You could move the projects into this place."

"We're a long way from the projects. No need to look back."

The mansion looked less like a home and more like the kind of place people visited in movies.

Light spilled from hundreds of windows. Luxury vehicles crowded the circular driveway.

Women in elegant dresses disappeared through the massive entrance while music drifted into the storm each time the doors opened.

Vicky had spent most of her life working too hard to imagine herself in places like this. Thankfully, her son had become successful enough to drag everyone around him into a different tax bracket. That changed a lot, but it didn't change who she was.

The door opened, and warm, humid air mixed with the smell of rain rushed into the limo.

A security guard extended his hand. Vicky accepted it and stepped carefully onto the wet pavement. The heels Sky had convinced her to wear already felt like a terrible idea.

Another guard appeared with a second umbrella while luggage was removed from the trunk. Neither man looked hurried despite the weather — they moved with the quiet professionalism of people accustomed to wealthy guests and expensive surroundings.

Vicky adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and looked up at the mansion again.

At five-foot-five, she carried her curves with the kind of confidence that came from not realizing how much attention she drew.

Her brown skin glowed beneath the driveway lights, and the short black dress she'd thrown on hugged her thick hips and thighs like it had been tailored for them.

The hem stopped well above her knees, showing off sexy legs she never thought twice about.

A pair of gold hoops framed her face, and strappy heels added just enough height to make her stand a little taller.

To Vicky, it was just a cute outfit for a party.

To anyone looking, she could've stepped out of a music video without even trying.

The place was enormous. Columns framed the entrance, and balconies overlooked the waterfront. Golden light spilled across polished stone steps that gleamed beneath the rain. Everything about the estate seemed designed to impress people before they reached the front door.

It was working.

Beside her, Sky looked completely at ease.

Her hair was cropped short too, almost identical to Vicky's cut, so much so that strangers could've easily mistaken them for sisters at first glance.

But where Vicky carried herself with a guarded edge, Sky moved through the crowd like she owned the room.

Her lighter caramel skin seemed to glow beneath the mansion lights, and the tiny dress she'd chosen left very little to the imagination, the hem riding so high it barely covered her booty cheeks.

She wore it with effortless confidence, smiling and laughing as if crashing a millionaire's party was just another Friday night.

The rain didn't seem to bother her. Neither did the mansion. She stepped from the limousine with the confidence of a woman who belonged anywhere she chose to stand.

Vicky envied that.

Some people walked into rooms expecting acceptance, while others spent their lives preparing for rejection. Vicky had never figured out how Sky made it look so easy.

The music grew louder as they approached the entrance. Bass rolled through the walls, followed by bursts of laughter. The sound reminded Vicky of college parties she had never attended, weddings she could never afford, and family reunions where everybody seemed to know one another except her.

A pair of attendants pulled the massive doors open, and the mansion swallowed them whole.

Warmth wrapped around her as crystal chandeliers scattered light across polished marble floors, women filling every corner of the house.

Some carried champagne. Others posed for pictures beneath a sweeping staircase.

Conversations overlapped in every direction until the room felt alive with movement.

Vicky slowed. Everyone else seemed to be in sync — embracing, squealing, laughing, sharing inside jokes, and recounting old stories.

Women crossed entire rooms to say hello.

The only one who seemed out of place was her.

Her gaze wandered to the ballroom, where the party had turned into a vivid spectacle.

Colored lights moved across a raised stage as a hostess in a glittering bunny suit engaged the crowd with a microphone, her voice loudly echoing over the music as if broadcasting a live viral event.

"Give it up for Darius and Tyreek!"

The room answered with a wall of screams.

Darius stepped forward first, impossibly tall and broad-shouldered, his dark skin gleaming beneath the lights.

A black cowboy hat sat low over mirrored sunglasses, and a whip hung loosely from one hand as he flashed a confident grin.

Shirtless and powerfully built, he looked like he'd walked straight out of a fantasy, every movement drawing another wave of cheers from the crowd.

Then Tyreek took center stage wearing nothing but a thong that couldn't keep his dick from falling out of it, so it swung and bounced for every lady to see.

He was younger, wilder, and clearly loving every second of the attention.

He danced with reckless energy, leaving the women losing their minds.

His thong looked barely capable of surviving the routine, which only made the crowd louder.

Every playful move sent shrieks echoing through the ballroom.

The bride was right in the middle of it all, laughing harder than anyone else. She danced beside the stage, completely fearless and completely committed to being the life of the party. The host kept feeding off her energy, pointing the microphone toward her whenever the crowd erupted.

"Look at this bride!" the host shouted. "Somebody get her a crown!"

And someone did. Someone walked up from the screaming ladies, placed a crown with the initials CC on it atop her head, and handed her a glass of wine.

"That's my bitch," she said, patting CC on the ass.

The women surrounding them went wild, chanting and cheering as the bride threw her hands in the air and played along. Even the dancers seemed to be performing directly for her now. Tyreek was having trouble keeping his oversized dick tucked in his thong, but he didn't care. He kept dancing anyway.

She was clearly the bride, and this was her party.

She downed the drink and stepped up onto the platform with the strippers and started dropping low to the music blasting from nearby speakers.

She was so low she found herself staring at Tyreek's dick that stared back at her, long and hard and wild outside his thong.

"OMG," the hostess yelled. She pulled a chair on the platform with her, and CC sat down in it.

"Is it real?"

CC squeezed and the stripper moaned.

"Hell yeah, it's real," he said, looking down at CC. In real-time, he felt electrified by her touch. Blood rushed his balls as fluid built up inside his sacks. "You wanna taste it?"

CC had drunk enough and was tipsy enough to put it in her mouth until the hostess grabbed his dick from her hand. "Give it up for Tyreek, ladies."

Tyreek was about to leap into the crowd of women until Darius put his arm around Tyreek's neck and whispered. "Keep it professional."

Over thirty women screamed like sorority girls at a pep rally.

The atmosphere felt electric — half party, half live show — as phones rose into the air to capture every second. The music pounded, the lights flashed, and for a moment it seemed like the entire ballroom revolved around the bride and the chaos she inspired.

Several whistles rose above the music, followed by a burst of laughter that made Vicky look away for a moment before she glanced back again, then wished Sky hadn't caught her.

"Damn," Sky laughed. "Them strippers got you hypnotized."

Vicky scrunched her lips. "Ain't nothing I've never seen."

"That was Godzilla reincarnated. Where you seen that at?"

"At home under my pillow where I need to be."

"Girl loosen up. You about to ruin it for both of us." Sky looked toward the bar. "I'm about to get a drink. You want something?"

"No thank you."

The mansion wasn't simply hosting a party; it was already becoming a memory. Standing in the middle of it all, surrounded by beautiful strangers, expensive liquor, and enough money to solve most people's problems, Vicky felt very far from home.

"You made it."

The voice came out of nowhere, though the first woman was impossible to miss. She wore a white dress that somehow managed to look elegant and dangerous at the same time. A sparkling crown rested on top of her dark curls, and her smile carried enough energy to light the entire ballroom by itself.

The second woman stayed half a step behind her, beautiful in a quieter way, watching the room while the bride soaked up its attention.

"CC," Sky laughed.

"There she is!" CC wrapped Sky in a hug before pulling back and looking her up and down. "Girl, you still look too damn good. It ain't right."

Sky grinned. "I could say the same thing."

CC's attention shifted.

"And who is this?"