I let out a cold laugh. “Sure. Go ahead.”

I opened the bedroom door, ready to get some rest. But the moment I stepped inside, I froze.

The bedsheets were crumpled. The blanket had clearly been slept under.

And beneath the pillow... was a pair of men’s underwear.

Disgust twisted in my gut.

Skyler slept in my bed?

I snatched up my important documents, didn’t spare them another glance, and walked out.

The door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang.

Forget it. I’ll sleep in a hotel tonight. That place already feels filthy. I’ll get someone to deep-clean it tomorrow—and throw away everything that needs to go.

After an exhausting day, my whole body felt like it was about to fall apart.

I showered and collapsed onto the hotel bed. Just as I was about to fall asleep, my phone buzzed.

It was a friend request notification.

I accepted, and in the next moment, a flood of photos came through.

Every single photo was of Veronica and Skyler, and the location was my house.

What was worse, it was on our supposed wedding bed.

The two of them tangled up together in intimate poses, without shame or restraint.

The last message was a single line. [Smart people know when to back off.]

I replied. [If someone wants to collect trash, I won’t stop them.]

Then I shut off my phone and went to sleep.

When I woke up, the sun was already high.

After breakfast, I returned to reclaim my house.

But when I opened the door, I was stunned.

The entire place was decked out with balloons and streamers.

Posters lined the walls—each one a wedding photo of Veronica and Skyler.

Music blasted from the speakers, shaking the walls with noise.

Strangers filled the space, sitting and standing wherever they pleased. I didn’t recognize a single one.

Some were stomping on my sofa. Others raided my fridge. People were drinking from my cups.

My books and documents were scattered across the floor, torn and trampled.

The antiques I’d won at auction, the precious keepsakes my parents gave me—they were being passed around like toys. Some were already broken.

I forced myself to hold back my fury and shut off the music.

Instantly, all eyes turned to me—full of annoyance and confusion.

I asked coldly, “Who are you people? What are you doing in my house?”

They looked at each other, then one said suspiciously, “Your house? Isn’t this Skyler’s place?”

“We’re here for the wedding. Who are you?”

Shaking with rage, I spat, “Wedding? Veronica and Skyler are holding their wedding here?”

Then someone suddenly pointed at me.

“Wait! You look familiar. You’re that third party, aren’t you?”

Before I could speak, a cup of milk tea was thrown in my face.

“Shameless! You actually had the nerve to show up here and ruin their wedding?”

Then more fists and feet followed.

I fought back with all I had, but there were too many of them.

They surrounded me, ganging up on me with growing boldness.

Some punched me, some clawed at my clothes.

One person held up the phone, livestreaming everything. “Let’s show the world what this homewrecker looks like!”

I tried to shield my face, but someone yanked my arms apart.

They pinned me down, laughing as they hung a pair of high heels around my neck like a noose.

Spitting on me, cursing at me—calling me garbage, a worn-out shoe, and a disgrace.

No matter how hard I struggled, it was useless.

They humiliated me, used me for their entertainment, like I was less than a human.

Finally, someone shouted, “The groom is here!”

They paused, and everyone turned toward the door.

I dragged myself off the floor just in time to see Veronica, dressed in a wedding gown, and Skyler in a tailored suit.

Veronica froze when she saw me.

Then she walked quickly toward me and lowered her voice.

“I thought you left... This wedding—it’s not real. It’s just for the kid. We're putting on a show.”

I stared at her coldly. “So the bruises on my face, the shattered antiques—those are just props for your little performance?”

Veronica frowned, clearly displeased by my response.

Their so-called friends quickly crowded around, all talking over each other.

“Veronica, this mistress is way too bold—he even showed up here?”

“Slap him! Do it for Skyler!”

“Yeah, put him in his place!”

Veronica didn’t move. But Skyler looked at her expectantly, clearly hoping she’d obey.

Instead, Veronica turned to me and intoned coldly, “Just leave.”

I clenched my fists. Anger and humiliation surged in my chest. “Why should I leave? And with what identity do I leave, exactly? As the third party?”

"You tell me, Veronica—am I the homewrecker here?!”

Someone beside me spat at my feet. “She has a husband and a child already. If you’re not the third party, then what are you?”

I turned back to her, heart pounding with a mixture of pain and disbelief.

“Just tell me the truth. Am I the third party?”

Veronica hesitated, then mumbled, “...No.”

The crowd exploded.

Voices rang out, all defending Skyler, all blaming me.

Veronica tried to calm them. “You’ve misunderstood. We’re just ordinary friends. He’s not a homewrecker—there’s nothing between us.”

I almost laughed from the absurdity of it all. “Ordinary friends? Then tell me—why are you having your wedding with your ex in my house?”

Someone kicked me from behind. “Your house? Are you delusional? This is Veronica and Skyler’s wedding home.”

“Just a kept man chasing rich women. He’s hallucinating.”

“People like him should be paraded around the streets and shamed.”

Insults flew from every direction, cruel and unchecked.

I took out my phone and dialed the police.

But Veronica snatched the phone from my hand and ended the call.

She narrowed her eyes and said sharply, “Marvin, can you wait until today is over? Just for today. After that, do whatever you want.”

Before I could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. “Marvin, listen to Auntie. Causing a scene today won’t benefit you.”

I turned, stunned.

It was Veronica’s mother.

The same woman who used to treat me like her own son—always kind, always doting.

She once warned Veronica again and again, "Don’t you ever hurt Marvin. If you do, I’ll be the first to object."

But here she was, attending Veronica and Skyler’s wedding.

She pulled me into the bathroom and locked the door behind us.

“Marvin, listen to Auntie,” she said gently. “I’ll make sure everything is made right.”

“When Veronica got pregnant, she hadn’t even met you yet. It wasn’t cheating.”

“Just let her marry Skyler. After that, they can quietly divorce.”

“A divorced single mom sounds much better than having a child out of wedlock, don’t you think?”

I almost laughed in disbelief. “Auntie, who said I have to marry Veronica?”

“Who she marries, or whether she has a child—that’s none of my business.”

“But this house is mine. I want them gone. And I expect full compensation for everything I’ve lost today.”

She froze and her eyes widened, disbelief written all over her face.

“But... didn’t you love Veronica the most? You were willing to do anything for her.”

“She tried to break up with you once, and you kneeled outside our door for three hours.”

“She’s just giving Skyler a name. That’s all it is. Why are you being so difficult now?”

Hearing her bring up the past stirred a complicated mess of emotions inside me.

The old me was so foolish—far too humble in this relationship.

I gave everything, never realizing how little I was truly worth to them.

Despite coming from a good family, I had bent over backwards for Veronica.

I tiptoed around her moods, afraid of upsetting her—afraid of losing her.

Veronica had long figured out my temperament—and she pushed her luck more and more.

She constantly belittled me, threatening to break up at the slightest disagreement. And the more she did it, the more insecure I became, terrified she’d leave me.

Maybe that’s exactly why she dared to go and register her marriage with Skyler so brazenly.

In her mind, I was already “domesticated.”

I had never been in love before. I thought loving someone meant making them happy at all costs.

But I never stopped to consider—love should make you happy too.

With that realization, I turned to Veronica’s mother and gave her a small smile.

“Auntie, what’s past is past. Today is different.”

“If I don’t get a satisfactory answer, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.”

I turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Behind me, Veronica’s mother shouted, voice sharp with panic, “Marvin, think carefully about the consequences.”

“Everyone here saw you today, saw you as the homewrecker!”

“Whether it’s true or not, your reputation is already ruined.”

“And when you come crawling back, begging Veronica to take you—don’t think we’ll just welcome you with open arms.”

I spun around, my anger finally snapping. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’m already married.”

I picked up my phone from the floor, determined to call the police.

But Veronica grabbed my arm.

Her voice was cold and venomous. “Marvin, is ruining my wedding that important to you?”

“Fine. Then don’t blame me for what happens next.”

She turned to the crowd, her gaze was sharp. “Take him to the guest room. Don’t let him cause any more trouble.”

Immediately, seven or eight men rushed toward me.

They dragged me away, fists and feet landed on me before we even reached the room.

If they got me inside, I didn’t want to imagine what would happen.

I struggled with everything I had, but I couldn’t break free.

Then suddenly a loud bang sounded.

The front door slammed open.

A crisp, icy voice echoed through the hall. “Touch my husband again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

My eyes burned.

Cassidy had come.