Maid Of Honor

Shadows cling to Jane Wilde like a guilty secret as she murmurs into the phone, voice laced with feigned sweetness for her step-sister Joanna Angel. Grateful for the crash pad after ditching her rocky boyfriend post-18, Jane's eyes gleam with hidden malice—she's the maid of honor, primed to 'help' with Joanna's impending nuptials. Call ends; she smirks. CUT TO TITLE. Jane slinks into Joanna's sleek pad, bags thudding like dropped pretenses. Hugs exchanged, but Jane's grip lingers, possessive. 'I'm here to handle the wedding chaos,' she purrs, snatching Joanna's phone. 'Relax, sis—I'll run the show.' Joanna, app-fresh on her device, wavers, but Jane's coaxing wins; phone surrendered. 'Your big day's mine now,' Jane whispers. Joanna exhales, fleeing for a final pre-wedded fuck-date with fiancé Aaron (Small Hands). Alone, Jane's laughter cuts sharp, fingers flying—posing as Joanna, she axes the cake order with venomous glee. Door swings; lovers return, flushed. Jane eyes Aaron hungrily, cooing, 'Thrilled to orchestrate your doom.' Tension coils, forbidden sparks igniting as Jane's sabotage unfurls, pulling them into a web of betrayal and raw, illicit hunger.