Page 114 of Before I Say I Don't
A murmur rippled through the crowd—low, uneasy, like grief dressed in anger.
“Then there was Sasha Green,” she kept going. “She was a financial analyst—sharp as they come, worked her way up, everything legit.Viangelotalked her into ‘loaning’ him funds for a startup that didn’t exist. When the money vanished, so did her stability. She turned to drugs, got into lots of debt, and had a full breakdown. She’s in a mental health facility right now in Georgia. Alive… but barely living. You should visit her.”
Horrified gasps overlapped with muttered curses. Someone whispered, “He ain’t no groom; he’s a serial scammer.”
Renée’s eyes swept the room, her tone colder now. “Those are only the ones Iknowabout. Who knows how many others there’ve been—different states, different names, same lies. He’s been running this rodeo for years. How far it goes back?” She flicked her chin toward Viangelo. “You’d have to ask him… or his posse.”
Every head swiveled back to Viangelo, whose face burned with rage but said nothing, locked down by security.
Danica momentarily slid back into judge mode. “What do you have to say for yourself, Zaria?”
Zaria’s mask cracked. Finally, she spoke—voice low, almost trembling.
“Angeloismy ex; that’s the truth. But we were a couple ten years ago. Six years ago, he cleared a major debt for me. Instead of freedom, I ended up bound to him. Since then, I’ve been paying him back—handpicking targets, vouching for him and delivering women into his lies. Elaine, Sasha… others. Until you. He found you on his own. Still, he insisted I stay close and be in this wedding. Not for friendship—for proximity. That’s why I said,this is way deeper than you think.”
Zaria paused, her eyes misty and reflecting a mix of regret and fear.
“I hated it… every moment of it. But he threatened me, you know? Every time I tried to pull away, Angelo would remind me of the debt I owed him—the promises I'd made. It felt suffocating.” Her voice trembled as she cast her gaze to the floor, unable to meet my eyes.
“I’m really sorry, Kamira. You’re lucky you don’t have to experience what the others went through, but I regret not telling you sooner. I could've warned you… saved you from this financial burden on this wedding, this pain, this humiliation.” Her voice lowered, filled with vulnerability. “I was just... scared of what he might do.”
The room hummed with restless whispers—some pitying, some disgusted. One guest muttered, “That’s no excuse,” while another sighed, “At least she admitted it.”
My arms folded tighter across my chest, though inside, my grip softened. I wanted to hate her, to strip her of every excuse, every tear. But part of me saw it—the regret etched into her face, the weight of years carrying someone else’s dirt. It didn’t excuse her betrayal—not by a long shot—but I wondered if Zaria wasn’t just guilty… but collateral too.
“It was okay at first!” Kendall began confessing, her voice cracking.
All eyes traveled to her.
“When it was just money and names, that is. My brother spoiled me, bought me everything and told me he was the reason I had nice things… and that was true. I thought it was harmless. But when Elaine died… and Sasha lost herself, I told him I didn’t want to be part of it anymore.”
Tears—probably fake—slid down Kendall’s cheeks, uneven, messy.
“But he made me… so did Mama.”
Diane sat with her arms crossed tightly, her jaw clenched, and a storm brewing in her hazel eyes. She had the look of a woman seething with rage—not merely at the truth that had just been uttered, but because herdaughterhad the audacity to voice it so brazenly in front of everyone.
Her glare pierced through the room like daggers. That heavy silence—far more potent than any shouted outburst—cut deeper, leaving a lingering unease in the atmosphere, as each person in the room felt the weight of the unspoken conflict between the mother and daughter.
My stomach clenched tight, the realization crashing down on me with relentless force.
“For the love of money,” Danica muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Unlike Zaria, Kendall’s confession didn’t move me one bit. She wasn’t trembling with regret; she was justcaught. The same girl who sat in corners whispering about me and smiled in my face while dragging my name in private, was now crying because the walls had finally caved in.
There was no faking that, and she damn sure couldn’t come back from it.
Not with me. Not ever.
You weren’t just complicit,Kendall; you were comfortable. You cashed in on my pain before it was even mine. And now you want pity? Nah. That debt is eternal.
“Sis, it looks like we need to do another trial,” Danica suggested, her voice dripping with glee.
I shook my head slowly. “No. We’re done here. More secrets might crawl out if we keep digging, and honestly? I’ve had enough filth for one day. This circus already gave me more than I bargained for—and I’m not wasting another second of my life putting him on trial. He’s guilty. Period. And that’s all the record needs.”
I pivoted to Viangelo, took two steps forward. and slapped the hell out of him.
The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot. Gasps erupted as he stumbled back, clutching his face, eyes wide with pain, anger, and—most of all—embarrassment.
