The Forrester mansion was glowing with celebration. Candles flickered, floral arrangements filled the room with the scent of roses, and every guest seemed to be holding their breath for the moment Ridge and Brooke would finally exchange vows. It had been years of starts and stops, reconciliations and heartbreaks, but this ceremony was meant to seal their love once and for all.

Brooke, stunning in a sleek ivory gown, stood at the altar, her eyes shimmering with joy and a touch of nervous anticipation. Ridge, in a tailored tuxedo, looked at her as though she was the only person in the room. Everything seemed perfect—until the heavy double doors swung open.

“Stop the wedding!”

Gasps rippled through the guests as Thomas Forrester stepped into the room, his hair slightly disheveled from travel, his eyes burning with urgency. He had just returned from Paris, where he had been staying with Hope and Douglas—at least, that’s what everyone thought. But now, his sudden appearance and tone made it clear something monumental had happened.

Ridge’s expression hardened. “Thomas, what the hell are you doing?”

“I can’t let you go through with this,” Thomas said, his voice shaking but loud enough for everyone to hear. He glanced at Brooke, who visibly stiffened. “There’s something you don’t know—something that changes everything.”

The guests murmured, shifting in their seats. Donna reached for Eric’s arm, whispering, “Oh no… not again.”

Brooke tried to keep her composure. “Thomas, this is not the time. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, Brooke, it can’t,” Thomas insisted, stepping closer to the altar. His voice cracked with emotion. “I’ve just come from meeting someone… someone you’ve been hiding from all of us.”

The room fell silent. Ridge narrowed his eyes. “You’re not making sense. Who?”

Thomas took a deep breath. “It’s about Bill Spencer.”

The name alone was enough to make Brooke’s face drain of color. She glanced away, avoiding Ridge’s eyes.

“What does Bill have to do with this?” Ridge demanded.

Thomas’s voice was low but cutting. “He’s the reason this marriage can’t happen. While you’ve been planning this wedding, Brooke, you’ve also been in contact with him—secretly. And not just once.”

Brooke’s hands trembled. “That’s not—”

Thomas cut her off. “I have proof, Brooke. Messages, meetings. I know you’ve been keeping this from my father. And I know why.”

Gasps filled the room again, followed by a stunned silence. Ridge turned to Brooke, his jaw tightening. “Is this true?”

Brooke’s eyes shimmered, but she stood her ground. “It’s not what it sounds like. Bill reached out to me for help—”

“With what?” Ridge demanded.

Thomas stepped in again. “With a scheme that puts this entire family at risk. Bill’s been using Brooke to get information about Forrester Creations. And she’s been feeding it to him—whether she realized it or not.”

Brooke shook her head vehemently. “I didn’t tell him anything important! Ridge, you have to believe me—”

But Ridge’s face was unreadable now, torn between disbelief and anger.

The officiant cleared his throat awkwardly, but no one paid attention. The wedding was over in everything but name.

“I came back to stop this before it was too late,” Thomas continued, his voice gentler now. “Dad, you deserve the truth before you make a decision you can’t undo. Brooke might have her reasons, but she’s been keeping secrets again. And we both know where secrets lead.”

Brooke’s breath caught. “Thomas, I—” She stopped herself, her voice breaking. “I was trying to protect you, Ridge. Bill said he had leverage over someone in the family. I thought I could handle it alone.”

Ridge looked away, struggling to process the revelation. “And you didn’t trust me enough to tell me?”

Silence fell again, this time heavier. The guests sat frozen, unsure whether to leave or stay.

Thomas took a step back, his purpose fulfilled but his heart heavy. He knew he might have destroyed whatever fragile peace existed between Brooke and Ridge, but in his mind, it was better than letting his father marry without knowing the truth.

Brooke, still standing at the altar, could feel her dream unraveling with every second that passed. She reached out to Ridge, but he didn’t take her hand.

The candles kept burning, the flowers still smelled sweet, and yet the air in the room was cold and sharp. The wedding was no longer a celebration—it was a battlefield, and Thomas had just lit the first match.

And somewhere deep down, Brooke feared that Ridge might never forgive her—not for the secret, but for making him choose between love and trust.