"Can you believe it? Miss Jenkins is marrying into the Nichols family—the richest family in the country. I'm so jealous."

"I know, right? There's such a gap between the two sisters. The older one is the real daughter, and she's prettier, but she messed up everything. Everyone's gossiping about her now."

"What do you expect? She got pregnant after some wild night three months ago. Her engagement to young Mr. Shaw is off, and now she's a complete laughingstock. Her parents have even locked her up at home. She's not even allowed to attend her sister's wedding.

The maids' whispers drifted clearly into Adalee Morgan's room. Sitting at her vanity, she slowly brushed her long, dark hair. Her reflection showed a youthful face—oval, delicate, with skin that seemed to glow. Her brows arched softly, her lashes curled, and her eyes sparkled with innocence. A slightly upturned nose sat above a small, rosy mouth, which now curled into a faint smile.

She couldn't believe she had returned to this exact moment—back to when she was twenty, back to the day of Miranda Jenkins' wedding. In her previous life, she had been lost as a child, found by her family at fifteen, and reinstated as their rightful daughter.

During her absence, her grieving parents had adopted someone to fill the void—her younger sister, Miranda. Publicly, Miranda was the epitome of innocence and intelligence—charming, well-behaved. But behind closed doors, she was ruthless and cunning.

Adalee would never forget how Miranda led their parents' and brothers' company to ruin, burying them under enormous debt until they took their own lives. Nor how she herself was locked away, tormented until she was a mere shadow of her former self. Even her unborn child wasn't spared.

She died bitter, unable to rest. Miranda was the root of her family's destruction, the reason she couldn't move on. But in her despair, fate took pity on her—granting her a second chance.

In her past life, on this very day, Miranda had successfully married into the powerful Nichols family, becoming the wife of Cruz Nichols, a man of immense power and influence in the city. With that status, Miranda wielded significant authority, enabling her to destroy the Morgan family and drive her parents to their deaths. This time, Adalee was determined to stop Miranda's malicious plans.

"Miranda, the battle starts now!"

Adalee murmured as she gently touched her three-month baby bump, a subtle smile spreading across her lips. Her child wasn't the result of a reckless night with a stranger—he was fathered by Cruz Nichols, the CEO of the Nichols Group. Miranda had dropped this bombshell just before Adalee's death.

Three months ago, Miranda had schemed against her, leading Adalee to believe she had a regrettable encounter with a ruffian. She had even left a pendant with the man as a keepsake, only to have Miranda steal her identity and marry Cruz.

Now Adalee understood why Cruz had married Miranda. All she needed to do was crash the wedding and unveil the truth—destroying Miranda's dream of becoming part of the Nichols family.

She opened the side door that led to the service stairwell instead. Moving carefully, one hand supporting her belly, she slipped down the stairs and out through the back gate. By the time the household staff realized she was gone, she was already driving away in a BMW, leaving only the roar of the engine behind.

At the grandest hotel in the city, an extravagant wedding was unfolding. Everywhere you looked, white roses and balloons adorned the venue, all set in ivory to celebrate the occasion. The master of ceremonies announced the wedding program to the guests who filled the hall, eager to witness the celebration.

Standing on the stage in a white gown was Miranda Jenkins, casting glances at Cruz Nichols in his sharp black tuxedo. He seemed to be the focal point of everyone's attention.

Miranda gazed at the aristocratic man beside her with almost obsessive delight. A beam of light illuminated him—perfectly tailored suit, tall poised frame. He exuded elegance and restraint, with every feature of his face chiseled to perfection.

Cruz Nichols was a powerhouse—a man who could make the world shiver with just a command. From today, this perfect man would belong to Miranda Jenkins, allowing her to escape the oppressive life with the Morgans and rise to a position of admiration and envy.

Once she became Mrs. Nichols, crushing Adalee and the Morgan family would be as easy as squashing an ant. After all, the Morgans had adopted her, raised her as their daughter for fifteen years before reinstating Adalee.

When Adalee returned, everything Miranda cherished—parental love, affection from her brother, and more—was snatched away from her. She couldn't bear it. Full of resentment, she sought to sully Adalee's image in their parents' and brother's eyes, ensuring her downfall.

She also bore a grudge against Mr. and Mrs. Morgan for bringing Adalee back. What she couldn't have, she would destroy, to make sure no one else could have it either. Miranda planned to dismantle the Morgan family systematically.

As for Adalee, she intended to make her suffer unbearably—wishing her a life of regret, tormenting her until her dying breath!

At that moment, the officiant turned to Miranda, "Miranda Jenkins, do you take the gentleman beside you to be your husband, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?"

Miranda eagerly declared, "I do!"

The officiant then turned to Cruz Nichols, the dignified groom, and asked, "Cruz Nichols, do you take the woman beside you to be your wife, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?"

Miranda's heart raced with anticipation as she awaited Cruz's response. Once he said "I do," she could rightfully become the envied Mrs. Nichols. The thought alone was exhilarating!

Under the expectant gaze of everyone present, Cruz's deep eyes fixed on Miranda. He parted his lips and began, "I…"

Bang!

The chapel doors burst open with a loud bang. A commanding voice echoed through the hall, "I object!"

A serene voice rang through the wedding venue, seizing everyone's attention. All eyes swung toward the entrance, where a woman in a champagne-colored elegant champagne gown made her grand entrance. Her beauty was almost surreal—soft waves of hair cascading down before being pinned up in an elegant twist, amplifying her magnetism.

That dress hugged her slender silhouette, cinching a waist so delicate it looked like a man's hands could easily circle it. Her porcelain skin radiated a luminous glow. As she drifted down the pristine white aisle, her red lips tilted into a smile, her eyes gleaming with captivating charm. She carried herself with such confidence and poise that every gaze in the room stayed glued to her.

The guests were floored. Her beauty was utterly arresting—even more so than that of the bride, Miranda Jenkins, standing on the stage.

Miranda's eyes went wide in disbelief. Adalee Morgan?! How the hell was she here? Hadn't her parents locked her in her room, scared she'd cause a scandal at the wedding? She'd instructed the staff to personally make sure Adalee stayed put. So how had she pulled off this escape?

Once the guests recovered from the initial shock, they recognized her as Adalee Morgan. A few socialites, catching their partners ogling Adalee with bare admiration, couldn't hide their jealousy and began to whisper.

"Can you believe the audacity of Miss Morgan, showing up here like this? Has she forgotten the scandal from three months ago? Getting herself knocked up after a night of debauchery!"

"Right? I heard she's out every night, hunting for male attention. And now that the unplanned pregnancy is out, she's permanently ruined!"

"She's brought so much shame to the Morgan family. If I had a daughter like that, I'd have sent her away at birth. What's the point in keeping her around?"

"Exactly. She acts all refined and pure, but she's nothing but a scheming seductress—a disgrace to all women. She doesn't belong in such a holy place!"

The Morgan family burned with embarrassment. Her father, Palmer Morgan, rose from his seat, fury radiating off him, and headed toward Adalee, who was calmly gliding down the aisle. In a flash, he grabbed her arm, steering her away. "Adalee, what are you doing here? Go home before you make things worse!"

Adalee resisted, her gaze unflinching and sure. "Dad, I can't leave. I'm here to find the father of my child."

Palmer froze, stunned. The thought that the man responsible for his daughter's condition might actually be present hit him like a freight train. "Adalee, are you saying the one who did this to you is in this room?"

Adalee nodded. "Yes."

Laughter exploded through the venue.

"Miss Morgan, you've got the wrong event. This is a wedding, not a bar!"

"Indeed, everyone here is from a reputable family, not the riffraff you'd find at a tavern."

"Don't try to pin your baby's daddy on anyone here. We're not around to clean up after you!"

"Exactly! We're far too respectable to be linked with someone like Miss Morgan, who sleeps around with strangers every chance she gets."

The Morgans were livid. As much as they were angry and disappointed in Adalee, they'd be damned before letting anyone trash a family member without consequence.

Adalee remained unfazed by the insults, a smile curling on her lips. "Father, I'm telling the truth. Three months ago, I was with Cruz Nichols. This child is his. If you don't believe me, we can do a paternity test."

Her composure left the crowd in stunned, dead silence—was she actually telling the truth?

Cruz Nichols kept his dark eyes pinned on Adalee, his expression inscrutable, his thoughts hidden behind a wall of mystery.

Miranda Jenkins, on the other hand, was frantic. She yanked a locket from her neck. "Sister, what are you talking about? I'm the one who was with Cruz! I even have the locket he gave me!"

Adalee gave the locket a glance and scoffed. "I gave you that locket, Miranda. Did you use it to pretend to be me and worm your way into Cruz's arms?"

Tears pooled in Miranda's eyes as she clutched Cruz's arm. "No, that's not true! Cruz, I swear, she's lying! You saw me when you woke up that morning!"

That night, after lacing Adalee's drink, Miranda had watched her wander into Cruz's room. The next morning, she intercepted Adalee as she left, still unaware of who she'd been with, and swiped the locket from her. Later, Miranda snuck back into Cruz's room, making him believe she'd been the one in his bed that night.

It had all gone according to plan. She'd succeeded—even managed to be the one Cruz would marry! But now Adalee was here, ready to shatter everything just as happiness was within her grasp. Miranda vowed she wouldn't let this chance slip away.

Miranda whimpered, sinking into Cruz's side. "Cruz, you know me. My sister has always been a troublemaker. She runs with shady people, parties all night! She's always been jealous of me—jealous that Mom and Dad favor me, jealous that you love me. Now she's trying to destroy my happiness!"

Miranda's tearful, vulnerable display stirred the guests' protective instincts, and they began murmuring in her defense.

The atmosphere in the grand hall was thick with tension as guests watched Miranda Jenkins cry like some delicate Cinderella. Adalee Morgan, in contrast, stood her ground, playing the villainous stepmother. The crowd, swayed more by emotion than logic, sided with Miranda, throwing silent daggers at Adalee. Even her own family backed Miranda—a girl with no blood ties to them—over their own daughter.

Adalee studied Miranda's tear-streaked face, feeling a twisted mix of admiration and irritation at her knack for winning hearts. But Miranda had it wrong if she thought Adalee was still that naive girl who'd let herself get trampled without a fight. Back then, Adalee had been stupid enough to buy every lie Miranda fed her.

Raising an eyebrow, Adalee spoke with cool confidence. "Miranda, do you seriously think everyone's gullible enough to swallow your little story?"

Miranda was left speechless, and the crowd fell into a hushed silence. Adalee pushed on. "If you claim you were with Cruz Nichols that night, tell me—how many times did he make love to you?"

Miranda hesitated, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Cruz himself watched, his eyes narrowing sharply. Adalee let out a soft chuckle. "See, Miranda, you obviously don't know Cruz at all. That night, he made love to me ten times! You think this baby bump just appeared out of thin air?"

The crowd erupted in whispers, disbelief coloring their faces. Ten times? Was that even humanly possible? Spending the whole night doing that? It was mind-boggling.

Cruz's eyes turned dark and intense. Miranda's cheeks burned with embarrassment and uncertainty. "I-I knew that," she stammered, scrambling to save face. "I told you myself."

Adalee smiled knowingly. "Really? Then tell us something else about Cruz."

Miranda was stumped. She had no idea if Cruz had any distinctive marks—she'd barely managed to hide under the covers that night before he woke up, so she hadn't gotten a chance to notice anything important.

Adalee's lips curled into a playful smirk. "Well, let me help you out—he has a birthmark on his backside!"

Gasps rippled through the room.

Cruz Nichols, the genius business tycoon, had a birthmark on his butt? The absurdity of it made some guests snicker behind their hands.

Cruz's expression darkened.

Miranda quickly blurted out, "I knew that too! I'm the one who told you about it!"

She smugly thought Adalee was still the same fool, airing such an embarrassing secret in public. In Miranda's mind, Cruz's pride would push him to unleash his fury on Adalee for humiliating him.

But while Miranda was internally gloating, Adalee burst into laughter, her brows arching with mischief. "There was no 'ten times' and no 'birthmark.' I made it all up—and you actually believed it!"

Miranda stood dumbstruck. Everyone else was equally stunned.

Meanwhile, Cruz's lips twitched ever so slightly, his gaze landing on Adalee with a newfound spark of intrigue.

Realizing she'd been played, Miranda's anger flared. "Sis, you've gone too far—joking about Cruz like that. Aren't you afraid he'll get angry and punish you?"

Adalee shrugged carelessly, patting her small baby bump. "Well, I'm carrying his child. If he wants to hurt the both of us, that's his call. But I believe Cruz, who clearly cherishes his child, will forgive me."

She shot a playful look at Cruz, her eyes twinkling. "Isn't that right, Cruz?"

Cruz's gaze settled on her belly, his eyes growing deeper. Could it be real? A life—his child—growing inside her? An unfamiliar emotion stirred in his chest, cracking his usual composed shell. Was Adalee truly the woman from that night? The mother of his unborn child?

Cruz swallowed hard as he stepped toward Adalee, but Miranda lunged forward, clinging to his arm. "Cruz, please don't trust her! My sister is unstable—she's always talking nonsense. I only played along to keep her from having a breakdown, but you have to believe me!"

Yet without a moment's hesitation, Cruz pulled his arm free from Miranda's grip. His cold gaze pierced through her like ice, laced with disdain. "Enough."

Miranda trembled, unable to meet the piercing stare of the man before her. The others in the hall sensed the shift in Cruz's attitude, suddenly wondering if Adalee's claims might actually hold some truth.

Cruz left Miranda standing on the stage and walked straight toward Adalee. A spotlight followed him, catching the quiet nobility in his stride. He looked like a figure lifted straight out of a Renaissance painting—all lean lines and aristocratic grace.

This man, desired by countless women, came to a stop beside Adalee.

Cruz stared at Adalee for a long moment. The hall was dead silent.

Finally he spoke, his voice low but clear enough for everyone to hear.

"I need a private word with both of you. Now."

He didn't wait for permission. He took Adalee's hand and led her, along with a pale-faced Miranda, into the side room just off the main hall. The heavy doors closed behind them.

Only then did he turn to Adalee, his dark eyes searching hers.

"Was it you that night?"

Though it sounded like a question, his tone carried certainty. The energy she gave off was hauntingly familiar.

Adalee tried to pull her hand back, but eventually relented with a firm nod. "Yes. It was me."

Cruz was quiet for several seconds. He interlaced their fingers, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I believe you."

He didn't need more proof. His gut told him she was the one from that night—and Miranda was nothing but a fraud.

Adalee blinked, caught off guard. She'd expected to have to convince him further.

Then he looked at Miranda, his expression turning cold.

"We're done here."

When they walked back out, Cruz's hand was still firmly around Adalee's. He stopped in front of the officiant and said, voice steady, "There's been a change. This is the woman I'm marrying today."

The entire Nichols family stared in disbelief.

Madeleine Nichols, Cruz's mother, frowned deeply. "Cruz, what do you mean? You can't seriously believe what she just said."

Cruz confirmed, "Yes. The man from three months ago was me, and the child she's carrying is mine."

The Nichols family sat in stunned silence. The Morgan family gaped.

Miranda's face went ghostly pale.

"I intended to marry Miranda out of responsibility because I thought she was the woman from that night. But now..." Cruz pulled Adalee closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. "My bride is changing."

Adalee felt the warmth of his palm against her hip, a jolt of electricity shooting through her body. Her mind went blank for a second. Her original plan was just to stop Miranda from marrying Cruz—not to get tangled up in a marriage herself.

But before she could react, Cruz was already guiding her onto the stage. She met Miranda's venomous glare, burning with jealousy. Smirking, Adalee leaned into Cruz's chest, feigning a happiness that only poured more fuel on Miranda's rage.

Cruz's lips curved into a barely-there smile as he felt Adalee nestle against him. Ignoring Miranda's tearful eyes, he lifted the bridal veil from Miranda's head and settled it onto Adalee's instead.

Adalee was stunned. Was a veil all it took to make someone a bride?

Cruz glanced at the dazed officiant, bypassing all formalities, and pulled out a ring, sliding it toward Adalee's finger.

On instinct, Adalee curled her fingers, resisting. As much as she was drawn to him, she hesitated to marry Cruz—a man who'd once been tangled up with Miranda.

Cruz's dark eyes deepened, his lips pressing together with a flicker of impatience.

But Adalee wasn't scared. She met his gaze head-on, defiance written all over her face. Yet, as she took in the man before her—with a physique that could rival any model and a face that was almost unfairly handsome—she reconsidered. Maybe marrying him wasn't such a bad deal after all.

With that thought, she straightened her fingers.

Cruz seized the moment and took her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger before she could overthink it again.

The gesture left her momentarily dizzy, but soon acceptance settled in. She'd thwarted Miranda, and she could use Cruz's status to protect her unborn child—a win-win.

Plus, for the sake of their baby, there wasn't much she wouldn't do. Adalee caught Miranda's envious stare from the sidelines and answered it with a serene smile, then turned a loving gaze up at Cruz.

The officiant finally pulled himself together and cleared his throat. "Ahem—may the groom and bride share a kiss!"