The ballroom went dead silent. The laughter died in Stefan’s throat as the massive LED screen behind the head table flickered to life. He lunged for the remote in Maria’s hand, but it was too late.
The video wasn’t a montage of their childhood photos. It was grainy security footage from the bridal suite, timestamped just forty minutes ago. The 85-inch screen clearly showed Stefan and the maid of honor, Jessica, mocking Maria’s vows and laughing about how they would spend her family inheritance once the marriage license was signed.
“She’s pathetic,” Stefan’s voice boomed through the speakers, echoing off the crystal chandeliers. “We’ll wait a year, divorce her, and take half the estate.”
On screen, they kissed—a kiss that happened while Maria was waiting at the altar.
In the ballroom, the real Stefan turned pale white. He looked at the guests, then at Maria. “Baby, it’s a deepfake, it’s—”
Maria picked up the microphone, her voice steady and cold. “Actually, Stefan, the marriage license hasn’t been mailed yet. But my father’s lawyers are standing by the exit.”
She pointed to the back of the room where two security guards stepped forward. “And since you admitted to fraud on camera, you don’t get a divorce settlement. You get an eviction notice.”
Stefan was escorted out of the venue past his horrified mother, while the guests erupted into applause for the bride.
