I received a call the day before my wedding. "Miss McPherson, someone has thrashed your venue."

I rushed to the hotel in confusion only to meet a woman waving my wedding photo. "You homewrecking skank! You seduced my husband and spent his money on this wedding!"

The crowd believed her and went wild. Even the hotel manager piled on me. "I knew something was fishy when the groom never showed up! You're not his real wife!"

The crowd turned into a violent mob. In that chaos, I miscarried.

At the height of my fury, I texted my secretary: [Cancel the wedding, and kick Matteo Brando out of my company!]

How dare he keep a mistress with my fortune! How dare she challenge me!

I will destroy them!

I was trying on my bridal dress when the hotel manager called.

"Miss McPherson, someone's come to wreck your grand wedding venue," he announced, his voice tinged with a hint of glee. "You should come here to assess the damage."

I was stunned. I had spent half a year of my hard-earned savings on this wedding! Who did these culprits think they were?

Tomorrow was supposed to be the day I married my fiancé of seven years, Matteo Brando. Why was someone sabotaging our wedding now?

Furious, I texted Matteo, grabbed my bag, and headed to the hotel.

…

As I approached the entrance, I could hear the hotel manager's ingratiating tone. "I didn't know Mrs. Brando could be this beautiful! You are truly a perfect match for Mr. Brando.

"No wonder she's never seen with the man himself when she's inspecting the preparations. She's not really who she claims to be, is she?

"Please give me your number, Mrs. Brando. I would love your support for the hotel's ventures and projects in the future!"

My heart skipped a beat.

A woman with bewitching curves and long, wavy hair was holding the manager's business card.

"No problem," she replied. "But first, I need to take care of a brazen vixen. I'll remember you helping me today."

I strode into the venue.

The flowers I had painstakingly arranged had been thrown to the floor. Shattered champagne bottles littered the ground. Rotten eggshells and squashed tomatoes were scattered everywhere.

My wedding venue had looked so dreamy that afternoon, and now it was a complete battleground!

I tried my best to control my rage.

"Who did this?" I snarled.

The woman slapped me hard across the face. "I did! Tia Lydic! Remember me? Time for you to get your just desserts for coming between Matteo and me!"

I staggered from the force. "Tia?"

The name sounded familiar. Who…

Of course! Matteo had once told me that one of his juniors had asked him for job connections. That was her name!

I sneered. Matteo, you jackass. My dad had let him take over the company's leadership position temporarily because I got pregnant, but now he acted like he'd always owned his spot and title. And he had kept a mistress behind my back!

"Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Tia shoved her phone in my face. It displayed a picture of her and Matteo in wedding attire. She pointed at another photo of Matteo and me welcoming guests at an event.

"No, you tell me who 'you' are! I took this picture with my husband about half a year ago! How dare you seduce him?!" Tia barked.

Seduce him? Ridiculous!

I grabbed my phone, ready to call Matteo for an explanation.

Tia snatched it away and threw it to the floor. "Don't you know your place, homewrecker?!"

Tia's voice was loud enough to draw a crowd. People gathered around, pointing fingers at me and whispering.

"I did a little research. The groom is Mr. Matteo from Lonboto Inc.!"

"Young people nowadays will do anything for money and clout."

"Exactly! She's so beautiful! Why did he have to…"

The manager rushed to Tia, trying to soothe her. "Don't be mad, Mrs. Brando. It's not good for your health! How about a stay in our presidential suite and a year's worth of free spa treatments? It'll help relieve your tension, I promise."

Finally, he turned to me and said, "Sorry, Miss McPherson, but we're not hosting your wedding now."

I laughed scornfully.

"Oh, are you gonna pay my liquidated damages?" I snapped.

Surveying the venue's destruction, I glared at Tia. "Are you going to compensate 700,000 dollars for this?"

Tia snickered and suddenly grabbed my hair, pulling me close. "Who said anything about compensation? All of that money was my husband's! And now you want me to pay you? You shameless skank!"

She noticed the limited-edition Hermès crocodile bag and shrieked, "I was wondering why my husband didn't buy this for me—so it was you who took what was supposed to be mine!"

She tried to snatch it from me. I wanted to hold onto it at first, but really, why would I risk getting hurt over a fight with some idiot?

Thus, I let go.

Tia lost her balance from the sudden release and fell to the floor.

The crowd rushed to help her up and began piling on me.

"I didn't know this hotel had started accepting lowlifes like you."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Brando! We all saw what happened. We know she attacked you!"

"That's right, Mrs. Brando. By the way, my husband is a proud employee of Loboto Inc. and loves working under your husband. It'd be great if you could put in a good word for him..."

Did they even know the truth?

Matteo was just a figurehead CEO. The company wasn't even publicly listed!

And yet these clowns kept kissing his ass.

Fortunately, my father had told me a few days earlier that he would gradually transfer ownership of every other company under the McPherson Group to me once Matteo and I were married. Thinking back, I felt as though luck had been on my side.

Tia tidied her hair smugly and pointed at me.

"Is the management of this hotel just going to let that woman make a mockery of your reputation?!" she shrieked at the manager.

The man laughed ingratiatingly. "Our deepest apologies, Mrs. Brando. Thank you for helping us improve."

Tia sneered and dumped my things out of the crocodile bag. My Rolls-Royce sports car keys and my black-gold tier bank card fell among the scattered items.

"You vixen!" Tia shrieked. "You've been sucking on my husband's fortune like a parasite!"

She suddenly grabbed the keys and grazed my cheek with them. "You don't deserve to drive a Rolls-Royce! Someone should smash it!"

She threw the keys to the floor and stomped on them until they looked unusable.

Unfortunately, she hadn't finished venting her anger. My crocodile bag became her next target. "A disgusting homewrecker like you doesn't deserve a 50k bag!"

She stormed toward the concierge and grabbed a pair of large scissors.

I was shocked to see her slice through the bag in one swoop, but I didn't stop her. I just made a mental note of how much she owed me.

The hotel owner finally arrived. The manager whispered in his ear.

The owner suddenly looked up with a grim expression. "Miss McPherson, from now on, you're blacklisted from our hotel."

I couldn't believe it. How did this homewrecking third-wheeler fool all of these people at once?

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He sized me up. "I am certain. Our hotel runs on reputation and class—which you fail to express. We do not welcome people like you."

I nodded. Okey-dokey, boss. Not like my father was this hotel's biggest shareholder. Let's see just how much regret a man could feel before he imploded.

I bent down to pick up my phone, but that allowed Tia to step on my back.

"I've just called my husband. He's on his way!" she proclaimed smugly. "Let's see how smug you can look by the time he gets here!"

Ignoring the pain, I grabbed her ankle, flipped her away, and sent her crashing to the floor, landing hard on her backside.

The manager's face drained of color as he rushed to help her up. "M-Mrs. Brando! Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?"

"The ambulance?!" she screeched. "No! I want this woman apprehended right now!"

She seethed. "You disgusting succubus! You seduced my husband and assaulted me! You can kiss your reputation goodbye from now on!"

The owner, enraged by my actions, pointed a finger at me. "How dare you harm Mrs. Brando! This hotel is equipped with surveillance cameras everywhere. I've already called the police!"

The crowd, fueled by a sense of righteousness, began wagging their fingers at me, playing the role of moral authorities.

Some of them even became physical, pulling my hair and yanking at my shirt.

"How dare you attack someone as esteemed as Mrs. Brando!" one of them shouted. "I'll be her witness today—you're nothing but a homewrecker and a violent menace!"

"Make her go viral!" another yelled. "The world needs to know who she really is!"

They shoved me toward the entrance of the hall where the wedding had been supposed to take place.

A large photo of Matteo and me hung in the center. Some members of the mob seized the picture and ripped it in two.

I watched them destroy it. All I felt was fury and disgust.

Go ahead, tear it down, you fools! You were doing me a favor—you just didn't realize it yet.

"Did you get a good angle?" Tia asked gleefully, her voice laced with triumph. "Upload it now. The world will finally know the real you!"

I tightened my grip on my phone as Matteo's messages flooded in.

Ha! He still thought I would care what he had to say?

I skimmed through the messages.

Predictably, they were full of apologetic platitudes and a hollow promise to explain himself later.

I blocked him immediately and sent a text to my secretary: [The wedding is canceled. Tell my dad to stop investing in Luxury Palace Hotel now. Matteo is fired from my company.]

[Understood, Miss McPherson.]

Tia noticed me typing on my phone and stormed toward me, her stilettos clicking sharply on the floor.

I had no time to move.

She stomped hard on my lower abdomen, her heels digging deep into my flesh with crushing force.

Pain surged through me. I curled into a ball on the floor, gasping weakly.

The crowd gasped too, but their concern was fleeting.

The owner looked down at me coldly.

"Enough with the theatrics, Miss McPherson. We won't be covering any damages because your wedding was ruined by your own actions. That's not our responsibility." He paused, then added, "You're also expected to apologize to Mrs. Brando. For the sake of your dignity, do so now."

The world seemed to darken with the pain, and I could only manage to glare at him with pure hatred.

The manager suddenly pointed at my pants, his voice panicked. "B-Blood!"

I looked down. Was my baby… gone?

For a moment, panic flickered across Tia's face, but it was quickly replaced by a smug, malicious grin.

She crossed her arms and sneered. "Oh, so you thought you could get a piece of my husband's inheritance by having his baby? Too bad. Your plan's ruined. Looks like not even God wants to side with you!"

I bit my lip and fought to stay conscious, despite the overwhelming pain and horror.

Just then, we heard footsteps approaching rapidly from the entrance.

A familiar voice cried out, "Gina!"

I lifted my head with great effort.

Matteo was breaking through the crowd, rushing toward me. His bodyguards followed closely behind.

Here he came. The man who kept a mistress on my dime—and she thought she was me!

I couldn't wait to destroy them both.