My fiancé's secretary had my wedding ring remade into a Hello Kitty trinket.

When I confronted her, she twisted the truth with shameless arrogance, insisting that my wedding was hers to decide.

I turned to my fiancé for support, only to have him dismiss me as petty and unworthy of being his bride. Together, they ridiculed and humiliated me, unaware that their families' power and future all depended on me.

When my superior stepped in, their mockery collapsed in the face of truth. My fiancé fell to his knees, begging me to honor our engagement. But I cast him aside without hesitation, breaking off the marriage and leaving him with nothing.

I had just completed a batch of top-secret supplies when my grandmother told me the wedding was ready—everything set, waiting only for me to arrive.

She said the groom was the heir of a century-old aristocratic family: impeccable in both character and appearance, and, most importantly, he had promised that I alone would decide when to have children. In all matters, he would respect my wishes.

When my superior heard the news, he gifted me a ten-carat pink diamond rough he had long treasured, instructing me to have it made into my wedding ring.

After discussing it with my fiancé, Owen, he eagerly offered to take the stone himself, claiming he wanted to surprise me.

But on the wedding day, as I prepared to slip the ring onto my finger, I froze. Before me was a Hello Kitty ring, gaudy and childish, its band so loose it dangled even over my thin gloves. I couldn't wear it at all.

I instinctively thought Owen must have rushed the arrangements and gotten it wrong. With the ceremony only an hour away, I quickly dialed his number.

A woman answered instead—his secretary, Seraphine Wendle.

"That's right," she said airily. "It's a Hello Kitty ring. Hello Kitty is my spirit animal. Do you have a problem with that?"

Rage surged through me. "This is my wedding, my ring! What right do you have to turn it into Hello Kitty?"

Her laugh was mocking. "Your wedding? Let me be clear, you have no say in your own wedding. I'll do whatever I like. If I want you to walk down the aisle in a Hello Kitty mascot suit, Owen will indulge me."

She sneered again. "Tsk, look at you… thinking you're the bride. Don't flatter yourself. If you're not happy about the ring, don't marry at all."

Her arrogance left me speechless. Certain she had lost her mind, I demanded she pass the phone to Owen.

"Owen," I said coldly, "if you don't bring me a proper ring within the hour, you can stay busy bailing your little secretary out of jail."

The wedding was less than an hour away.

Neither my family nor my superior had arrived yet, but once they saw my bare hand without that pink diamond, they would never let it go. If Owen could present a suitable ring, at least I could find an excuse to cover the situation.

I heard a man's breath on the line. Taking it as him, I explained, "There's still an hour. Your family is the country's largest jeweler—getting another ring is hardly difficult. Just bring one quickly. And it can't be too small—at least six carats or more, otherwise—"

Before I finished, the call cut off. No matter how many times I tried, the line never reconnected.

Hadn't Grandma said Owen was the heir of a century-old aristocratic family? Was this attitude befitting of the heir of a century-old family?

I dropped the Hello Kitty ring, preparing to go find someone to help, when Seraphine sauntered in through the doorway.

"Owen is far too busy to waste time on someone as unpresentable as you," she said, her tone dripping with contempt. "Be a good girl—put on the gown, wear the Hello Kitty ring, and get on stage. Otherwise, if Owen loses his patience, he might just make me his bride instead."

She strutted to the vanity, slipped the ring onto her own hand, and it fit her finger perfectly. It was obvious who it had been made for.

Fury burned hot in my chest. "Seraphine, this isn't child's play. Stop it and get me a proper ring right now."

"Shut up, bitch! No one asked your opinion. This wedding is mine to command. You'll wear this ring on stage whether you like it or not. Oh, but your fingers are too small, aren't they? Perhaps I should help you."

Her eyes glittered with jealousy as she stared at my slender hand. Spotting a makeup case on the table, she picked it up and advanced.

"What are you waiting for?" she barked at the others. "Hold her down. I'll smash her hand until it swells—then we'll see if the ring doesn't fit!"

My patience snapped. "Seraphine, I'll give you one last chance. Call Owen here. Otherwise, you won't just answer to the police for this diamond. You'll pay a far heavier price."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Don't make me laugh. Is that diamond even yours? Everyone knows the Buckley family is the greatest jeweler in the country. You clearly stole it from them! The Buckley family belongs to Owen. You're nothing but a thief. Be grateful if I let you wear a blade of grass, let alone a ring."

I ignored her rant. If she were here, Owen must be nearby. He was probably just too busy with the wedding to answer the phone. Once I explained everything in person, surely he would take my side.

But as soon as I opened the door halfway, Seraphine shrieked.

"You dare ignore me? What are you all standing around for? Grab her! Grab her!"

Her face twisted with malice. "If you won't wear the ring, then you won't show your face at all!"

She plunged her hands into palettes of eyeshadow, highlighter, and foundation cream, mixing them into a filthy mess before smearing it across my face. She pressed hard against my eyes, nose, and mouth, cutting off my breath.

"Seraphine, are you insane? If I go out looking like this, the Buckley family won't spare you!"

She only laughed, cruel and triumphant. "Rachel, open your eyes and see who's holding you down."

Through the stinging pain, I forced my eyes open—only to find the doorway crowded with onlookers. They watched with relish. No one stepped forward to help.

Even a small child yanked a fistful of my hair, snarling, "Seraphine, this bad woman doesn't know her place. Let me help you and Uncle Owen teach her a lesson!"

Others chimed in one after another.

"Rachel, just apologize to Seraphine. Otherwise, she'll be unhappy, and Owen might decide you're too embarrassing to marry."

"Everyone knows Seraphine is Owen's favorite. He had to coax her for three days and nights, even giving her five percent of Buckley Group's shares, just to get her to agree to this wedding."

"Offend Seraphine, and you'll be miserable in the Buckley family. In fact, you might not even make it out alive today. Either way, Owen will clean everything up for her."

Seraphine tore off my gloves and stomped hard on my hand. "This is what happens when you oppose me. Even if you become Owen's wife, you'll still bow and scrape before me. Everyone in the Buckley family listens to me. If I say you don't eat, you'll starve. If I say you don't drink, you won't even get a sip of water!"

My fists clenched tight. I twisted and broke free from the ones restraining me, but I didn't dare strike back.

Before the wedding, my family and my superiors had warned me repeatedly:

"If something happens, keep calm. Don't lose your temper. And don't remove your gloves. You know what even one finger of yours can do to them."

But now my gloves had been stripped away, and my control was fraying. If I didn't hold myself back, Seraphine would soon discover the true disaster she had provoked.

Just as I reached out my hand, a glass of red wine splashed across my face. My eyes stung, my body shuddered uncontrollably.

And then a voice cut through the chaos, "What are you doing?!"

I grabbed a tablecloth and wiped the wine from my eyes—only to see a man in a white suit, a crimson rose tucked into his breast pocket.

Tall, refined, and elegant, he stood at the center of attention. The crowd around him seemed to orbit his presence, as if he were the very sun and they, a galaxy of stars.

My grandmother knew me well—this man was practically crafted to my taste.

Yet the warmth I expected vanished the moment he turned, his brow knitting tightly as he looked at Seraphine.

"Seraphine, what are you doing? It's my wedding day, and I've been running myself ragged. Must I chase after you too? Can't you spare me even a little trouble?"

Seraphine's face crumpled into practiced grievance. "I only wanted to settle the ring matter before leaving, but that wretch wouldn't stop making a scene. Not only did she steal your family's diamond, she even demanded a twenty-carat ring as compensation."

The sheer audacity left me reeling.

I straightened, ready to defend myself, but Owen's voice cut in first, sharp with disdain.

"Who let the cleaning woman in here? Get out now! You'll ruin my wedding."

I drew a steadying breath, forcing calm. "Owen, it's me, Rachel Waitrose, your bride. You took the ten-carat pink diamond I sent and promised it would be made into my wedding ring. I—"

"Enough." His voice cracked like a whip. "The Buckley family doesn't need a shrew, much less a country bumpkin who doesn't know her place. As of now, the wedding will be handled by Seraphine. I'll explain everything to both families. Don't embarrass yourself further."

The words stunned me. His secretary had provoked this entire mess—yet he cast all blame on me.

"But it was your secretary—"

"Oh, right." His eyes, suddenly cold as knives, pinned me like I was vermin crawling out of a sewer. "I nearly forgot. Today's guests include titans of industry and renowned jewel designers. You wasted my secretary's time and prevented her from assisting me with our distinguished guests. That delay has harmed Buckley Group's interests."

His next words struck like ice. "She's upset now. Go on—strip and dance for her, let her vent her anger."

I choked on disbelief. Her mood? How was that my responsibility?

"Rachel," he sneered, "my grandfather said you were attractive. But seeing you now—you're nothing but a toad. I can't fathom what trick you pulled to blind him."

I stood frozen, numb with shock. It took me a long moment to find my voice. "Owen… after everything you've said, what makes you think I'd still marry you?"

He tilted his head, as though I'd uttered a joke, and the crowd roared with laughter.

"Plenty of women want to marry Owen. If not for Owen's grandpa threatening his own life, do you think some no-name toad like you would be worthy?"

"My uncle belongs to Seraphine! You don't deserve to even speak to him, tramp!"

"If you're smart, you'll start stripping now. Otherwise, we'll be happy to help."

A pack of beasts—every last one of them. Not a shred of decency in the Buckley family.

"I won't stay for this wedding. And I certainly won't marry you, Owen. But one thing—return my ten-carat pink diamond. You're the CEO of Buckley Group; surely you wouldn't stoop so low as to covet a country girl's stone."

For the first time, his expression faltered. "A single diamond? The Buckley family doesn't even care for such trifles."

With that, he snatched the Hello Kitty ring and tossed it at my feet. The pink gem clattered across the floor, rolling to a stop before me.

"There—take your diamond. Now dance, or stop wasting my time."

I bent to examine it. At a glance, the color and facets seemed right, but the fire, the brilliance—it was all wrong. This wasn't my diamond.

It was nothing but a pink padparadscha sapphire.

I drew a long breath. "I told you, I won't marry you. And another thing—"

Seraphine cut in with a theatrical snort. "Who asked your opinion? You're just a pawn Owen uses to show filial piety. If his grandpa hadn't insisted on you, you wouldn't even be standing here. Don't act self-important.

"Be clever—flatter me, and maybe I'll let you have the honor of appearing beside Owen on the marriage certificate. Otherwise, there are plenty waiting to replace you."

I gave a short, bitter laugh, though my temper was slipping fast. "Then let them replace me. For now, return my diamond. That stone is not mine."

I pulled out my phone to call my superior, intending to cancel the wedding on the spot.

But Seraphine lunged forward, snatched it from my hand, and smashed it to the ground. "Trying to run? Not a chance. You'll apologize to me today!"

The crowd jeered, voices overlapping in disdain.

"Rachel, hurry and apologize. Seraphine can close deals worth ten times more than your diamond in minutes. You've wasted enough of her time."

"Owen is far too patient, indulging a toad like this before the marriage even begins."

"She's just playing hard to get, banking on Owen's filial piety. Typical scheming tramp."

"Exactly. The moment she saw him toss the diamond back, she tried to bolt. She just wants his attention."

Me? Trying to catch Owen's attention? The thought was laughable.

I raised my voice. "First of all, the diamond you took is worth fifty million. It's a rare vivid purplish-pink stone. This Hello Kitty ring is a padparadscha sapphire, barely three carats, poorly cut, worth at most a few ten thousands. Owen, I don't care for your worthless stone. You will compensate me with the original diamond—intact."

Seraphine's eyes narrowed. She leaned toward Owen and whispered something.

His face darkened with fury. "Rachel, don't mistake my kindness for weakness!"

I had a hunch that Seraphine must have slandered me.

Sure enough, Owen spoke, confirming my suspicion.

"What you sent over was nothing but a piece of pink glass. That padparadscha sapphire? Seraphine bought it herself to cover for you. Instead of being grateful, you have the audacity to brag about some fifty -million pink diamond rough?"

Impossible. When I shipped that diamond, I entrusted it to a specialized escort agency. Delivery would only be valid if Owen signed for it in person.

"That stone was transported by dedicated guards and vehicle. Since you signed for it, there's no way you could mistake it. It was a pink diamond rough."

But Owen only frowned in irritation.

"I don't have time to fuss over some worthless rock you mailed. As soon as it arrived, I gave it to Seraphine to handle. If she says it's a piece of glass, then that's exactly what it is."

Seraphine seized the chance to press harder.

"If I hadn't switched the glass, do you know how much humiliation Owen would've suffered today? Besides… my dream has always been to marry with a pink padparadscha sapphire. I gave that dream to you, and you don't even know how to cherish it."

Owen's expression darkened further.

"Rachel, get over here and kneel before Seraphine. Apologize! I wouldn't dare let her suffer even the smallest grievance, and yet you dare disgrace her like this?"

Seraphine threw herself into his arms, trembling like a delicate bird. Her lips brushed faintly against his cheek as she whispered, "Owen, for you, I don't mind anything. But… for her to cause such a scene at your wedding, that's truly too much."

I picked up the padparadscha sapphire from the floor and hurled it at them.

"I did nothing wrong, and I will not apologize. I said it before. Compensate me for the pink diamond and let me walk away, or no one will be leaving this place."

Seraphine let out a mocking laugh.

"Of course no one's leaving. We'll make sure everyone sees you for the fraud you are!"

With a snap, she tossed out another piece of pink glass.

I dodged, and the shard shattered into fragments on the floor.

"Hmph. So this is your so-called fifty-million pink diamond? The truth is right here. What else do you have to say?"

I stared at the glass for a long moment, then suddenly laughed.

"Seraphine, weren't you the one who first accused me of stealing the Buckley family's diamond? How did the diamond suddenly turn into glass? Unless… the Buckley family has been peddling counterfeits all along?"

For a brief second, Seraphine faltered, but she quickly recovered.

"That's because we've always guarded against thieves like you. The Buckley family's diamonds are locked in a secure vault so you'd never have the chance to steal them. That glass is just bait, to trap greedy women like you."

"Enough!" Owen barked. "A vain woman like you is unworthy of joining the Buckley family."

He was about to continue when his phone rang.

Seraphine naturally answered it.

From the other end, a voice said, "Is this Owen Buckly? Rachel should already be at the wedding. Why did her call suddenly cut off, and now we can't reach her?"

"Oh, so the old fraudster the little liar invited finally shows up." Seraphine put the call on speaker.

"Listen, old man, your little scammer is about to strip for us as entertainment. What are you waiting for? Get over here and serve us tea, or I'll make sure your whole family rots in prison!"

The voice on the other end stiffened.

"Who are you? Isn't this Owen's phone?"

"And if it is? His phone is mine now. You think you can scam us? Let me tell you, it's useless. I've seen plenty of cheap cons like yours."

The caller's tone hardened.

"Show some respect. I am not a fraud."

"Oh? Are you going to claim you gave Rachel a pink diamond rough worth fifty million?"

"Of course. That diamond was a gift to Rachel—"

"Perfect. You admit it. Old fraud, just wait. I'll have the police here in no time. How dare you use a chunk of glass to swindle the Buckley family? That's marriage fraud, outright fraud—you deserve to rot in prison!"

But what she didn't know was that our institution is revered wherever we go. Financially, no one can rival us. Other divisions begged us when they ran out of funds.

"Where's Owen? Where's Rachel? I need to speak with them," the caller demanded.

I sighed and answered, "Boss, Owen said I was nothing more than a pawn to curry favor with his grandpa. They switched the diamond you gave me for a padparadscha, slandered me, and even ripped off my gloves, crushing the bones in my fingers."

For a moment, he thought he'd misheard, then his voice sharpened with alarm.

"Rachel, are you alright?"

But Seraphine cut in before I could reply.

"Alright? She won't be for long. You won't escape either. Crawl to me on your knees, or I'll see to it you can't survive in this city!"

As she spoke, she shoved the phone into my face, snapping picture after picture.

"If you beg nicely, maybe I'll take Rachel's place at the altar and marry Owen myself. Now hurry up, don't make me say it twice!"

With that, she hung up and switched off the phone.

"Come! Break her knees and make her kneel. I'll have her and her con-artist boss bow together to celebrate my wedding with Owen."

I lifted my gaze to the clock on the wall. It was precisely 4:36 p.m.

"You're out of time, Owen. I told you—you would pay the price."

At that moment, sirens wailed outside. Police escorts cleared the road as one after another, convoys with special license plates pulled up at the hotel entrance.