The day before the wedding, my fiancé James's childhood sweetheart had a severe depressive episode.

Threatening to take her own life, she demanded the destruction of the wedding gown my grandmother had painstakingly made for me before her passing.

To calm her down, James locked me in a room and stayed by her side, helping her cut the gown into shreds.

Amid the mess, he spoke indifferently.

"Be reasonable. It's just a wedding gown. Do you want to see her die?"

Later, James's hot uncle approached me, asking me to carry on the family lineage.

I nodded in agreement.

But James, with reddened eyes, confronted me.

"Are you really going to have his child? Have you completely given up on me?"

Covering my slightly rounded belly, I replied, "Be reasonable. It's just a child. He’s your uncle. Do you want to see him with no heir to carry on the family name?”

Lisa Shaw's depression flared up again. At this moment, she was trembling in the arms of my fiancé, James Cook, right in front of me.

"James, can you not get married, please?" she pleaded.

James froze for a moment before pulling her closer, his eyes full of tenderness.

"Alright, we’ll do whatever you want."

A sharp pain stabbed my chest as I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. I had lost count of how many times he had crossed the line.

Lisa and James had been childhood friends. During an elevator accident, she pushed him to safety. After being rescued, she was diagnosed with depression.

When I was bedridden with a fever, she had a hysterical breakdown, threatening to take her own life.

During our anniversary, she claimed she was too scared to be alone.

When I sprained my ankle going downstairs, she had recurring nightmares.

Every single time, when I needed James by my side, Lisa managed to pull him away.

I understood the bond they shared because of that life-saving incident, so I always backed down. But this time, I didn’t want to give in anymore.

"James, are we still getting married tomorrow?" I asked.

Hearing this, James paused while patting Lisa’s hand and replied in a low tone, "Ruby, you know Lisa’s sick. She can’t be upset."

At this point, what more was there to misunderstand? I let out a bitter laugh.

"Fine. Then there’s no need for this wedding anymore. Take good care of her.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, James finally looked up at me, a flicker of panic flashing across his face. Yet he still sat there, holding Lisa tightly.

I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Turning away, I went back to my room to pack my belongings.

But just as I stepped out of the bedroom, I found James blocking the doorway. He looked at me, his tone laced with irritation.

"Ruby, can’t you be reasonable? It’s just a wedding. I’ll make it up to you later."

I almost laughed in anger. He still thought it was just about a wedding.

Too tired to engage, I stepped around him, but he grabbed my wrist.

For a moment, I thought he was trying to stop me. But then I heard him say, "You can leave, but leave the wedding gown behind. Lisa gets nightmares just seeing that gown. I want to get rid of it."

I froze, wondering if I had misheard.

"Are you joking?"

James knew perfectly well that this gown was handmade by my grandmother before she passed away. It was the only thing she left me.

The grip on my wrist tightened abruptly as he pressed down on my suitcase, trying to snatch the gown away.

My eyes reddened as I resisted, fighting back with all my strength.

"James, how can you be so heartless?"

A hint of coldness flashed in his eyes.

"It’s just a wedding gown. Can’t you be more generous?"

With that, he shoved me forcefully. I stumbled and fell to the ground as he grabbed the suitcase and slammed the door shut.

I scrambled to my feet, rushing to the door like a madwoman, pounding and screaming.

"James! Don’t touch my wedding gown! It’s the only thing my grandmother left me! James! I’m begging you!"

No matter how desperately I pleaded, the only response was an endless, suffocating silence.

Completely breaking down, I sank to the floor, my head drooping in defeat, my disheveled hair sticking to my cheeks.

At that moment, a notification lit up my phone. Lisa had sent me a video.

In the video, James held a pair of scissors, slicing the hem of the gown over and over again.

My eyes burned with rage as I watched the video.

Lisa, pretending to be considerate, said softly, "James, you cut up the wedding gown for me. Won’t she be angry?"

"Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re happy, nothing else matters.”

The video cut off abruptly. I leaned against the door, numb and motionless.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when the door finally opened. James stood there, a cigarette between his lips, looking down at me with indifference.

"Ruby, I’ll buy you a new wedding gown," he said flatly.

I couldn’t suppress my fury any longer. With all my strength, I slapped him across the face.

"I don’t want anything from you!" I shouted.

"James, this is the end for us!"

I shoved past him, tears blurring my vision as I stared at the mess strewn across the floor. After packing everything, I ignored them both and walked straight out the door.

Behind me, Lisa’s shrill, mocking tone rang out.

"James, are you okay? Ruby was just acting out of impulse. Don’t be mad at her. Go and calm her down!"

"Calm her down? Let her throw her tantrum. She’ll come crawling back in a couple of days," he replied dismissively.

I didn’t stop or look back, walking away without hesitation.

The night was thick and heavy, the rain falling chaotically. With no one responding to my calls for a ride, I found shelter under an overhang to wait out the rain.

After what felt like an eternity, a sleek black car slowly pulled up and came to a stop in front of me.

James’ uncle, Steve Cook, was sitting in the driver’s seat.

He rolled down the window, motioned with his hand, and said in a deep, cold voice, "Get in."

I stood there, stunned. He continued, "What? Do you need me to come out and invite you in?"

Steve and I had hardly any interaction. Other than seeing him a few times with James, we barely spoke. My impression of him was always the same—a stern face that exuded an overpowering sense of authority.

It was said he had a strong background, a thriving career, and a reputation for being notoriously distant from women.

After a moment of hesitation, I finally got in the car.

The interior was unusually quiet. The sound of rain beating against the windshield seemed especially loud.

I forced a faint smile, trying to ease the awkwardness. "Sir, thank you for earlier."

He nodded slightly, raising an eyebrow as he replied with a small smile, "No need to be formal. We’re family, after all."

Lowering my gaze, I didn’t respond further.

Noticing this, Steve’s smile faded, and his tone turned serious.

"Did you have a fight with James?"

I nodded, then shook my head. "It’s not a fight… we broke up."

Steve remained silent for a long moment before pulling out his phone. Opening his contacts, he tapped on James’ number and dialed.

After a few rings, the call connected, and James’ respectful voice came through.

"Hey, Uncle Steve."

Steve raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone slow and deliberate.

"I call to ask about your wedding tomorrow.”

Unexpectedly, James let out a mocking laugh, his response careless.

"Ah, right. I didn’t get the chance to tell you—there’s no wedding tomorrow."

"Oh? And why’s that?"

"Lisa doesn’t want it," James replied nonchalantly.

Steve’s face remained calm, his voice low.

"Did you ask Ruby what she wants?"

Hearing this, I froze in surprise. A distant relative like Steve seemed to care more about my feelings than my own fiancé.

James’ tone was light and dismissive.

"Why bother about her?"

He continued lazily, "Honestly, the thought of marrying such a pushy woman makes me uneasy. Lisa’s sick, and I don’t dare cross her, but Ruby keeps pressing her luck."

He sneered.

"Running away from home to throw a tantrum? Let’s see how far she gets without me. Who else would want her?"

Hearing this, Steve frowned slightly but only responded with a faint "Hmm."

Steve impatiently ended the call.

Sitting beside him, I felt a heavy weight in my chest. After a long pause, Steve spoke unhurriedly.

"Breaking up is for the best."

His words surprised me.

"What?"

"He doesn’t deserve you."

The car gradually slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. Steve turned to face me, his gaze steady, tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"With the wedding called off, have you thought about how you’re going to explain this to your family?"

His question struck a nerve. After all, my father still relied on James’ financial support. If I canceled the wedding now, I’d have no way to face my family.

I stayed silent, unsure of what to do, and instinctively turned to Steve for help. Hesitating, I asked cautiously, "Do you have any ideas?"

He let out a low chuckle, his voice dropping.

"Why not marry me instead? What do you think?"

I froze for a moment, completely at a loss for words. This man was insane.

Shaking my head, I instinctively rejected him outright.

"Please don’t joke with me."

Steve didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned in slowly, closing the distance between us. His gaze was piercing as his fingers brushed against my arm, stopping at my wrist and gently caressing it.

"I’m not that free to be joking around," he murmured in a low voice, his breath warm against my ear. His lips curved into a faint smile.

"After all, marrying me would only benefit you. Not only would it silence your family, but I could also help keep your father’s company afloat. So, Ruby, what do you think? Care to consider it?"

The warmth of his breath and the tingling sensation that followed made me close my eyes and turn my head away. My heart raced uncontrollably at that moment.

"No, it’s not appropriate," I stammered, unable to meet his gaze. My head hung low as I waved my hands dismissively.

Noticing my reaction, Steve loosened his grip on my wrist and leaned back into his seat.

"Your fiancé brought his mistress home, and yet you still choose to endure it quietly," he said. His tone was calm but carried a sharp edge. "Seems like you really are a pushover."

I fell silent at his words. They were harsh, but every word was true. Even James himself had once told Lisa that I’d never fight back.

At that moment, a whirlwind of emotions surged within me.

Why was James allowed to betray me over and over, while I was expected to endure it in silence? Why could he do whatever he wanted, yet I was the one who had to hold back?

Clenching my teeth, I turned back to meet Steve’s gaze. Without giving it much thought, I reached out, grabbed his tie, and pulled him closer.

A light, fleeting kiss landed on his cheek.

"You’re the real pushover.”

Steve froze for a second, then cupped my jaw with his hand, tilting my face up as he leaned in to kiss me.

My hands pressed against his chest, but his kiss was forceful and intense, as if he wanted to pull me entirely into himself.

After a long moment, he finally released me, though his breath was ragged, and his voice came out hoarse.

"Let’s take this somewhere else."

In the bathroom, he pressed me firmly against the mirror. His shirt was gone, discarded entirely, and the heat radiating from his body seeped into my every nerve.

My back was flush against his firm, muscular chest, leaving no space between us. His breath lingered against my neck, sending a wave of warmth over my skin.

Blushing deeply, I tried to avert my gaze, but Steve grasped my chin and guided it back, forcing me to look at my reflection.

His cool lips brushed against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Since you’ve agreed, there’s no turning back now," he murmured in a low voice.

He toyed with my disheveled hair with one hand while the other held my waist firmly, pinning me in place.

In the mirror, our entwined bodies reflected back at me, and my self-control had completely shattered.

Unconsciously, I called out softly, "Sir… gentle, please."

In response, he lightly nibbled on my earlobe as if in punishment, his voice hoarse and commanding.

"Say my name."

"St… Steve."

The next morning, when I woke up, Steve was already gone, without a single word left behind.