Vanessa laughed and punched one of the guys in the chest.

“Jason Miller, how many times do I have to tell you—I’m basically one of the guys. Call me Bro Vanessa!”

Jason bobbed his head, bowing and scraping.

“Yes, yes, Bro Vanessa! My mistake!”

The groomsmen roared with laughter again, completely forgetting I was still standing there as the bride.

Finally, Vanessa turned her attention back to me, pointing at Jason and me both.

“You two both owe me apologies, but I’m not taking just words. Here’s the deal—each of you chug a bottle, and we’re square.”

Ryan was the first to clap.

“Perfect! Bro Vanessa, you’re always so generous!”

The rest clapped along, while my face grew colder.

The waiter soon brought over two bottles of beer.

Vanessa poured herself a glass first and toasted Jason.

“Jason, I know your health’s not great. I’ll help you out.”

She downed the glass, earning cheers and applause.

Jason, near tears with gratitude, finished the rest of the bottle.

“Thanks, Bro Vanessa. Brothers for life!”

After their little performance, all eyes turned to me.

“Your turn, sis!”

Ryan slipped an arm around my waist, claiming ownership.

“Quit calling her sis—she’s Mrs. Parker now!”

“Right, right, Mrs. Parker! Drink up!”

Ryan leaned close to my ear, whispering,

“Emily, just drink it. Do it for me.”

I stared back at him with no expression.

“Ryan, I’m allergic to alcohol.”

He froze, then seemed to remember.

Back in college, Ryan had gotten blackout drunk at a client dinner. When I went to pick him up, the greasy middle-aged men wouldn’t let him leave unless I drank.

To get him out, I downed a full glass of vodka in one go.

Ryan was only drunk that night, but I ended up in the ER, nearly suffering full organ failure. The doctor said if we’d been any later, I might not have survived.

The day I was discharged, Ryan’s eyes had turned red as he swore to me:

“Emily, I’ll never let anyone force you to drink again.”

And now? For the sake of entertaining this so-called female bro, he wanted me to chug a whole bottle.

Seeing my displeasure, Ryan lowered his voice, coaxing:

“Emily, don’t make a scene. All my groomsmen are watching. Besides, it’s just beer, low alcohol. You can just go throw it up afterward. It won’t hurt you.”

Looking at him then, I wondered whether this marriage was worth going through with.

Someone urged me on.

“Mrs. Parker, come on! We’re waiting on you!”

Vanessa burst out laughing, cutting in:

“Oh, what’s that saying again? Dumplings are the tastiest, fun is the best… Anyway, don’t you dare hit on Mrs. Parker, guys, no matter how wild she is!”

My brow furrowed, and I turned to Ryan.

“What does she mean by that? She’s been publicly slandering me all night—does she plan to keep going?”

Vanessa quickly covered her mouth, feigning sudden realization.

“Oh no, did I just say what I was really thinking? Silly me!”

She tapped her temple in mock cuteness, acting all coy.

Ryan actually fell for it.

He grabbed Vanessa’s hand, chuckling.

“Alright, alright. You’ve always been slow. Don’t make yourself look any dumber.”

Vanessa pouted, pinching his waist.

“Who are you calling dumb, huh? If I’m the pig, then what does that make you—Piglet?”

Seeing them flirt again, I snatched up a beer bottle.

“So, you want me to drink to apologize? Fine, I’ll drink.”

Vanessa’s face lit with smug satisfaction.

“Great, sis-in-law. Chug this whole bottle and I’ll forgive you.”

I raised the bottle with a smile.

“But you drank half for Jason earlier, right? Guess you can drink the other half for me.”

Then I upended the bottle over her head.

Screams erupted in the banquet hall.

Beer drenched Vanessa from head to toe, but I ignored the chaos. I walked straight out, drove home, and found myself surrounded by the glaringly red wedding decorations.

A stabbing pain pierced my chest. I clutched the wall, slid down, and felt tears fall before I realized it.

Ryan and I had been classmates at NYU.

At first, I dated him because he was handsome. But soon after, my family’s company faced bankruptcy.

Ryan didn’t leave. Instead, he handed me all the savings he’d been putting away since childhood to help my parents.

When he saw I couldn’t afford my usual designer bags, he worked a summer job to buy me a small branded wallet.

I still remember him sweating inside a mascot costume, shyly handing me that wallet. In that moment, I thought: This is the man I’ll marry.

Thankfully, my family survived the crisis and I remained the Summers heiress.

After graduation, my parents disapproved of Ryan’s average background. But I was convinced he was the man who’d stand by me through thick and thin.

So they relented, granting Ryan control of a Summers subsidiary in New York and buying us a luxury condo in Manhattan.

Tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding day. And today, his groomsmen had staged this humiliating circus.

Nausea rose in me like worms crawling in my stomach. I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

Soon, Ryan came storming in, furious.

“Emily! Who gave you permission to treat Bro Vanessa like that?”

While I was still heaving, his first reaction wasn’t to check on me—it was to defend that woman.

This marriage, I realized, truly wasn’t worth it.

I lifted my tear-rimmed eyes and sneered.

“Bro Vanessa? So does she have something between her legs, or do you not? Is that why you two are the same gender now?”

Ryan’s face flushed with rage as he raised his hand.

“Emily, shut up!”

Tears burned my eyes, sorrow and anger flooding me.

“What now? You’re going to hit me for her?”

Ryan dropped his hand and sighed, softening his tone.

“Come on, baby, don’t be mad. Vanessa’s been my bro since childhood. There’s nothing between us. And tomorrow’s our wedding—your parents spent so much on it. You don’t want their efforts wasted, right?”

He reached out, trying to hug me with that infuriating grin.

I shoved him away.

“Are you threatening me?”

He shrugged.

“Just stating the facts. Besides, Vanessa’s one of my groomsmen. Can’t exactly have the lineup missing someone, can we?”

I laughed bitterly.

“Funny, I’ve never heard of a female groomsman before.”

Ryan scowled, impatient.

“You’ve never heard of plenty of things. This is nothing.”

“Nothing?” I snapped.

“On Valentine’s Day, I booked the best restaurant in Manhattan six months in advance. One phone call from your female bro and you ditched me for the entire night. That was ‘nothing’ too?”

Ryan Parker frowned.

“That night was a special case. Vanessa said someone was following her on the street, and she was scared walking alone. That’s why I went to check on her!”

“You told me she was ‘one of the guys,’ didn’t you? Since when are men afraid of being followed at night?”

My roar made Ryan’s face turn ugly.

“And what about your birthday, when I couldn’t make it back from out of town? You and her were all over each other in a private club lounge—was I dead to you then?”

Ryan froze, then quickly denied it.

“Who’s spreading lies? That never happened!”

I didn’t bother arguing. Instead, I threw my phone at him, playing the video right in his face.

“Take a good look yourself. Vanessa posted it on Instagram! Don’t tell me you had no idea!”

Ryan was speechless. He raked his hands through his hair in frustration, then his face twisted with anger.

“Enough! Why are you being so relentless, like a crazy woman? If only you were half as understanding as Vanessa, we wouldn’t even be fighting right now!”

His voice hardened.

“Emily Summers, I’m telling you right now—you must apologize to Vanessa. If you don’t, I won’t marry you. Tomorrow there won’t be a groom at the wedding. Let’s see how your Summers family handles that humiliation!”

Right then, his phone rang. Ryan instantly switched to a syrupy tone.

“Where are you? Don’t be scared, I’m coming right now.”

On the screen, the caller ID read Alex Johnson.

Ryan didn’t say another word before storming out, slamming the door behind him.

Not long after, one of his underlings sent me a video.

In it, Vanessa was sitting at a bar drinking miserably. Ryan came over to comfort her. Within moments, they were kissing passionately.

Then Vanessa sent me several photos of them making out, followed by a fake-sweet message:

“Oops, wrong person! Sis, you don’t mind, do you?”

I rolled my eyes and blocked her.

I began packing Ryan’s belongings, ready to throw everything out. On his nightstand was a locked box. I pried it open and found handwritten letters between him and Vanessa.

In his words: “If Emily Summers weren’t so rich, I couldn’t stand her another second.”

Vanessa had written: “Ryan, if I crash the wedding, will you come with me?”

His reply: “Of course I want to be with you! But I haven’t gotten the Summers money yet. Vanessa, just wait a little longer…”

That’s when I finally understood—Ryan had only stayed with me for my money.

If that was the case, then he wouldn’t see a single cent.

My parents called to ask about the rehearsal.

I told them everything was fine—except for one change.

“The groom needs to be swapped. I’ll marry the one who’s been calling me ‘big sis’ since childhood.”

Ryan had his so-called “big bro.” I had my own loyal little brother.

The next morning, as I sat at the hotel getting my bridal makeup done, Ryan placed both hands firmly on my shoulders.

“Emily, looks like you’ve finally come around. Vanessa is being generous—she’s letting us marry today as long as you apologize tomorrow.”

“Oh, and didn’t you buy that Chanel limited-edition handbag last month? You can give that to her as your apology gift.”

I shot him a cold glance.

A few weeks ago, Vanessa had publicly begged for that exact bag on Instagram. Not only was it expensive, but you had to be a registered VIC customer to even get one.

And Ryan thought a couple of casual words would be enough to snatch mine? What a dreamer.

I ignored him and let the makeup artist continue.

Yesterday, I’d made a call to my new groom. He’d agreed without hesitation.

But truthfully, we hadn’t seen each other in years. I had no idea what he was like now.