Chapter 4

Two days before the wedding, Holt's mother came to my door.

She was carrying a bag of discounted fruit from the supermarket. She plopped down on my sofa, crossed her legs, and started issuing orders.

"Lynette, I want to discuss something with you."

"That wedding house of yours was bought in full before marriage, right? Look, after you and Holt get married, you'll be family. It looks bad for a family's house to have just one person's name on it."

"Add Holt's name to it. When relatives and friends see it, they'll think you two have such a good relationship."

I held my teacup without saying anything.

"Chelsea even said that after a couple gets married, the house should be shared. You can't be so selfish."

An outsider making decisions for me, and this mother-in-law thought it was perfectly natural.

I took a deep breath and squeezed out an obedient smile.

"Mom's right. Give me the property deed and I'll go to the housing authority tomorrow."

My mother-in-law's face lit up. She pulled the property deed out of her bag and handed it over.

Good grief, she even carried the property deed with her, just waiting for me to say those words.

I took the property deed and saw off my mother-in-law.

As soon as I closed the door, the smile vanished from my face.

I took the property deed straight to a real estate agency and put the house up for emergency sale.

The 3.8 million dollar house sold for 3.5 million.

Though I lost a bit, it was better than letting Holt swallow it whole.

The money arrived that same day. I transferred it all to a private overseas account.

In my past life, Holt had sold this house and didn't give me a single cent.

This life, he wouldn't touch a single brick.

When I got home, Holt had miraculously appeared in the kitchen, holding a bowl of dark liquid he handed to me.

"Lynette, you haven't been looking well these past couple days. I specially made you some calming soup. Drink it and get a good night's sleep tonight so you can be the most beautiful bride the day after tomorrow."

I took the bowl. A medicinal smell wafted up.

In my past life, he'd used this bowl of soup to make me sleep for a full ten hours the night before the wedding, giving Chelsea plenty of time to transform the wedding venue into a fighting ring.

I brought the bowl to my lips, pretending to drink. The instant he turned around, I spat it into a tissue, crumpled it up, and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Honey, it's delicious. Thank you."

A flash of satisfaction crossed Holt's eyes.

"Get to bed early. We still have rehearsal tomorrow."

He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom, closing the guest room door to make a call.

I pressed myself against the wall and listened to a couple sentences.

"Chelsea, she drank it. She's sleeping like a dead pig. The day after tomorrow is foolproof."

The voice on the other end belonged to Chelsea: "Holt, should I kick her left temple first or her right temple the day after tomorrow?"

Holt laughed. "Whatever makes you happy. Either way, after you kick her, she'll spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair."

I retreated to my bedroom and locked the door.

I sat down at my desk, opened my laptop, and organized all the evidence I'd collected over these days into a PPT, arranged by timeline.

The title was four words: "The Groom's True Story."

I set up a timed playback program and linked it to the account for the wedding venue's projection screen.

After finishing all this, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.

No. I was a blade unsheathed.