I entered the grand wedding hall, a smirk on my lips as I surveyed the scene. And there she was, Alessandra Celine Monroe, my longtime foe, standing with her sister by the altar. My gaze locked on her, taking in her every feature. She looked beautiful, but I couldn't help but feel a mixture of irritation and excitement. "Well, well, if it isn't Alessandra," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I should've known you'd be here."