Chapter 4
I woke up in the bridal suite.
June 15, 2024.
[Today's the big day, Bella! I'm SO happy for you! See you at the altar. —Sophie]
I screamed into my pillow.
So close. I had been so close to answers.
But now I knew something new: Natasha had information that could save me, and someone had killed her to keep me from getting it. Whoever was behind this was watching me. They were reacting to my moves in real-time within the loop.
That changed everything.
It meant at least one other person was aware of the loop.
I forced myself to think clearly.
In the original novel of my life, the cast was simple: Ryan, my greedy fiancé. Sophie, his accomplice. And whoever else he'd recruited.
But the person who killed Natasha—that was different. That was someone protecting a bigger secret.
I checked the time. 7:00 AM.
This time, I wouldn't go to Natasha. I'd let her come to me.
But first, I had to figure out who else in this wedding wanted me dead.
I got dressed and went downstairs, this time heading straight for the kitchen where the caterers were setting up.
If someone was poisoning my drink at the reception, the evidence would be here.
The kitchen was chaos—clanging pans, shouting chefs, trays of appetizers being assembled like art pieces.
I spotted the bar station in the corner. A young bartender was polishing glasses.
"Excuse me," I said, smiling. "I'm the bride. I just wanted to check on the drink menu for tonight."
He grinned. "Of course! Congratulations. We have the champagne tower, the signature cocktail your fiancé picked—"
"My fiancé picked a signature cocktail?"
"Yeah, he came in yesterday. Said it was a surprise for you. Called it 'Bella's Forever.' Cute, right?"
Cute. Like naming the poison after me was romantic.
"Can I see the recipe?"
He showed me the card. Standard ingredients—vodka, elderflower, champagne. Nothing suspicious on paper.
But I knew better. The poison wasn't in the recipe. It would be added later.
"Who's serving the bride's glass specifically?" I asked.
"That would be Marcus. He's on evening shift."
"Can I meet him?"
"He won't be here until five."
Five PM. Three hours before my scheduled death-by-drink.
I thanked the bartender and left.
As I crossed the lobby, I nearly collided with someone.
"Whoa, easy there."
I looked up.
A man I'd never seen before. Tall. Dark eyes. A jawline that could cut glass. He was wearing a hotel staff uniform, but something about him didn't fit. His posture was too confident. His eyes too sharp.
"Sorry," I muttered, stepping around him.
"You're the bride, right?" he called after me.
I turned. "How did you know?"
He pointed at my hand. My engagement ring.
"Lucky guess." He smiled. It wasn't predatory. It wasn't charming. It was... careful. "Word of advice? Skip the signature cocktail tonight."
My blood turned to ice.
He turned and walked away before I could speak.
"Wait—!" I chased after him, but he'd already disappeared around a corner.
Who the hell was that?
Someone who knew about the poison. Someone who'd just warned me.
For the first time in this endless nightmare, I wasn't alone. Someone out there didn't want me dead.
But I'd been betrayed enough times to know—trust was a luxury I couldn't afford.
Not today. Not when today kept killing me.
I returned to my room to regroup, and that's when I found it. A note slipped under my door.
I picked it up with trembling hands.
It read: **"The man you're marrying killed his first wife. Proof is in the hotel safe. Code: your birthday. —N"**
N.
Natasha.
She'd found another way to reach me.
June 15, 2024.
[Today's the big day, Bella! I'm SO happy for you! See you at the altar. —Sophie]
I screamed into my pillow.
So close. I had been so close to answers.
But now I knew something new: Natasha had information that could save me, and someone had killed her to keep me from getting it. Whoever was behind this was watching me. They were reacting to my moves in real-time within the loop.
That changed everything.
It meant at least one other person was aware of the loop.
I forced myself to think clearly.
In the original novel of my life, the cast was simple: Ryan, my greedy fiancé. Sophie, his accomplice. And whoever else he'd recruited.
But the person who killed Natasha—that was different. That was someone protecting a bigger secret.
I checked the time. 7:00 AM.
This time, I wouldn't go to Natasha. I'd let her come to me.
But first, I had to figure out who else in this wedding wanted me dead.
I got dressed and went downstairs, this time heading straight for the kitchen where the caterers were setting up.
If someone was poisoning my drink at the reception, the evidence would be here.
The kitchen was chaos—clanging pans, shouting chefs, trays of appetizers being assembled like art pieces.
I spotted the bar station in the corner. A young bartender was polishing glasses.
"Excuse me," I said, smiling. "I'm the bride. I just wanted to check on the drink menu for tonight."
He grinned. "Of course! Congratulations. We have the champagne tower, the signature cocktail your fiancé picked—"
"My fiancé picked a signature cocktail?"
"Yeah, he came in yesterday. Said it was a surprise for you. Called it 'Bella's Forever.' Cute, right?"
Cute. Like naming the poison after me was romantic.
"Can I see the recipe?"
He showed me the card. Standard ingredients—vodka, elderflower, champagne. Nothing suspicious on paper.
But I knew better. The poison wasn't in the recipe. It would be added later.
"Who's serving the bride's glass specifically?" I asked.
"That would be Marcus. He's on evening shift."
"Can I meet him?"
"He won't be here until five."
Five PM. Three hours before my scheduled death-by-drink.
I thanked the bartender and left.
As I crossed the lobby, I nearly collided with someone.
"Whoa, easy there."
I looked up.
A man I'd never seen before. Tall. Dark eyes. A jawline that could cut glass. He was wearing a hotel staff uniform, but something about him didn't fit. His posture was too confident. His eyes too sharp.
"Sorry," I muttered, stepping around him.
"You're the bride, right?" he called after me.
I turned. "How did you know?"
He pointed at my hand. My engagement ring.
"Lucky guess." He smiled. It wasn't predatory. It wasn't charming. It was... careful. "Word of advice? Skip the signature cocktail tonight."
My blood turned to ice.
He turned and walked away before I could speak.
"Wait—!" I chased after him, but he'd already disappeared around a corner.
Who the hell was that?
Someone who knew about the poison. Someone who'd just warned me.
For the first time in this endless nightmare, I wasn't alone. Someone out there didn't want me dead.
But I'd been betrayed enough times to know—trust was a luxury I couldn't afford.
Not today. Not when today kept killing me.
I returned to my room to regroup, and that's when I found it. A note slipped under my door.
I picked it up with trembling hands.
It read: **"The man you're marrying killed his first wife. Proof is in the hotel safe. Code: your birthday. —N"**
N.
Natasha.
She'd found another way to reach me.