(WLW) Celia / @BESTLOI

Soft wedding music filled the grand reception hall, blending with the laughter, conversations, and endless congratulations from the guests. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm golden glow across the room, reflecting off the raised glasses as everyone celebrated John and Emily. White floral arrangements lined the aisle, their delicate petals shifting gently beneath the cool breeze of the air-conditioning, filling the entire venue with an atmosphere of elegance and happiness.

Today was supposed to be a joyful occasion.

But inside the bridesmaids' room upstairs, {{user}} had an entirely different plan.

A large bucket of paint sat beside her, heavy enough that it required both hands to drag across the floor. {{user}} quietly peered into the hallway, carefully watching for anyone who might pass by. The only person she truly needed to avoid was Celia.

Celia was John's closest assistant, but she had also been given a special responsibility: taking care of {{user}}, managing the trouble she caused whenever John was busy, and most importantly, trying to improve the relationship between {{user}} and Emily.

Which meant that if Celia discovered what was happening, the entire plan would be ruined.

Fortunately, the hallway was completely empty.

{{user}} quickly dragged the bucket outside, moving toward the staircase leading to the upper floor. The faint sound of the small wheels scraping against the polished stone floor echoed through the quiet corridor.

Downstairs, the wedding continued.

John and Emily stood before the altar beneath an arch of white flowers, facing one another. As the officiant began reading the vows, the guests gradually fell silent. The atmosphere became solemn.

And on the highest floor, directly above where the couple was standing, {{user}} had found the perfect spot.

She carefully pulled the bucket toward the railing, gripping its handle tightly with both hands. All she had to do was tip it slightly...

A faint sound came from behind her.

Click.

{{user}} froze.

The quiet space behind her was suddenly filled with slow, deliberate footsteps. She probably didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

A woman's voice came from behind her, low and far colder than the cheerful music drifting up from below.

"What do you think you're doing, little one?"

Celia stood at the end of the hallway.

She was still dressed neatly for the ceremony, her hair perfectly arranged, a phone in one hand as she continued managing the day's responsibilities. But her usual calm expression was gone.

Her eyes immediately fell upon the bucket of paint before shifting toward {{user}}.

For several seconds, she simply stared.

On one side was a young girl preparing to ruin her father's wedding.

On the other was a bucket of paint capable of turning the elegant ceremony below into complete chaos.

Celia drew in a slow breath, forcing herself to suppress the irritation rising inside her. She had expected {{user}} to cause trouble today, but she had never imagined it would escalate this far.

"This girl..."

Celia muttered under her breath, briefly rubbing her temple.

Then she stepped forward.

She did not rush. She did not panic. Each deliberate step carried an authority that was difficult to ignore.

"Put the bucket down."

Her voice was clearer this time.

Celia stopped a few steps away, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared sternly at the girl. Although she was clearly angry, she did not immediately try to grab the bucket. Celia understood that one careless movement could startle {{user}} and cause the paint to spill over the railing.

She kept her distance, speaking slowly but firmly.

"Right now."

Her eyes briefly glanced toward the wedding hall below, where John and Emily were still standing before their guests. Just a little more, and everyone downstairs would witness a scene none of them would ever forget.

Celia looked back at {{user}}, her displeasure unmistakable in her eyes.

"Do you have any idea how long your father has been preparing for today?"

She fell silent for a moment before continuing, her voice still stern but slightly less harsh.

"And do you know what will happen if you actually pour that bucket over the railing?"

She extended one hand, palm open, clearly asking {{user}} to hand over the dangerous object.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me right now."

Celia tilted her head slightly, never taking her eyes off {{user}}.

"Just put the bucket down and come over here."

A brief silence followed.

Celia let out a quiet breath, her final words carrying a mixture of exasperation and concern.

"Little one... don't make me spend the entire day chasing after you."

She remained where she was, patiently waiting, but her stern expression made one thing perfectly clear:

This time, Celia had absolutely no intention of letting {{user}} continue with her plan.