Chapter 1

During the wedding tea ceremony, my parents had just lifted their glasses when the cups suddenly burst.

Red wine mixed with cream and chili water exploded across their faces and clothes.

My mother's brand-new formal gown was soaked through in an instant, sticky cream clinging to her hair.

My father instinctively reached to shield her, only to step on a shard of shattered glass and crash hard to the floor.

Miles Weiss's secretary, Bianca Joyner, was laughing so hard she could barely stand up.

"Wow! They look like two ridiculous water buffalo!"

"That was a little touch I designed for your wedding. I never imagined the trick cup would be so sensitive."

I was shaking with rage, and she only fanned the flames.

"No getting angry, bride! They say online that a calm attitude is what makes everything go smoothly!"

Miles clamped a hand over mine too, frowning as he murmured,

"Bianca was just trying to warm up the crowd for you."

"Can't you see everyone's laughing and having a good time? Don't be so ungrateful and petty."

My mother wiped the cream off her face, looking wretched, her eyes rimmed red, yet she still forced a smile at me.

"Sweetheart, we're fine."

"A wedding is a joyous day. Don't start a fight over us."

In that moment, I looked at my parents, both a mess, still desperately keeping up appearances for Miles.

And it struck me all at once how sickeningly absurd this whole wedding was.

They couldn't bear to see me embarrassed.

But Miles could.

In that case.

This marriage, I wasn't going through with it.

...

My father braced himself against the floor, trying to stand, the blood on his palm smearing across the red carpet.

Beside him, Bianca frowned at once.

"Sir, please don't get blood on the carpet."

Hearing that, my mother scrambled down and used her sleeve to wipe away that little bit of blood.

"Sorry, we're so sorry."

"We didn't mean to."

Bianca stood over my parents, looking down at them, her tone all helpless patience.

"I did warn everyone earlier that the cups had a mechanism. Maybe the two of you were too nervous and didn't catch it."

The murmuring around us instantly dropped low.

Someone snickered.

"So she did warn them."

"First time these country bumpkins have been to the city, probably. No wonder they couldn't keep up."

My fingertips trembled with fury.

"Bianca Joyner, you—"

Before I could finish, Miles had already stepped in front of her.

"Bianca apologized."

"And your parents said it's fine."

He frowned down at me, his voice dropping very low.

"There are this many people here today. Do you really have to make a scene until no one can save face?"

I stared at him, dazed.

My father's hand was still bleeding.

My mother's shoulders were shaking from the cold.

And all he cared about was Bianca saving face.

My father, as if afraid I would really blow up, hurriedly tugged at my sleeve.

"Sweetheart, let it go."

"Your mom and I will go clean up. You go on with the wedding."

Bianca cut in at once.

"The lounge is full of the Weiss family's relatives right now."

"Why don't the two of you go deal with it in the storage room in the back?"

"There's a mop and rags over there."

"And be quick about it—cream is a real pain to clean once it drips onto the floor."

My mother's face went pale for an instant, and she lowered her head at once.

"Excuse us."

"We'll wipe it all up."

She was the one who'd been humiliated.

Yet she bowed the whole way, apologizing as if she'd done something wrong.

I followed them toward the back.

The storage room was cramped, and as my mother went in, her hem caught on a metal shelf and tore open in a long gash.

She pressed a hand over it in a panic.

"It's fine."

"The wedding lights are dim anyway. No one will notice."

She opened her bag. Inside was a new shawl, folded up neat and tidy.

"I was going to put it on when I went up on stage."