Vanessa is usually incredibly stingy. I cover all our dates, and she even asks me to reimburse her for a bottle of mineral water.

On holidays, I give her gifts, and all I get in return is a half-hearted “mm-hmm.”

Today, she actually offered to treat me to Japanese food. The sun must’ve risen in the west.

But I didn’t call her out on it—I just went along, had sushi, and watched a movie with her.

She ended up spending nearly a thousand dollars, which clearly made her uncomfortable.

On the way home, she kept grumbling and reminding me that I owed her a meal next time.

She dropped me off at my place. I watched her car disappear down the street, then immediately hailed a taxi to the new house.

The new place had a password lock. I entered the code several times, but it kept saying “incorrect password.”

Thankfully, I had brought the physical key and used it to unlock the door.

What greeted me inside left me speechless.

The cozy little home I’d decorated to my exact taste had been completely transformed.

The Nordic-style painting in the living room was replaced with a giant Crayon Shin-chan print. The sleek brown leather sofa was now hidden under an ugly plush cover.

My black-and-gold tables, chairs, and cabinets had all been painted white. The entire furniture layout had been rearranged.

I opened the master bedroom door—and saw Derek sleeping soundly on the wedding bed Vanessa and I had picked out, using the silk bedding set my mother had lovingly selected.

I had mentally prepared myself for the possibility that Derek might have moved in.

But I hadn’t imagined he’d completely undo all my careful interior work—and then sleep like a king in my wedding bed.

Startled, he sat up and snapped, “Ethan Carter, why didn’t you knock? Who told you to barge into my house?”

I was so furious I couldn’t even form words.

“This is my house!” I finally said through gritted teeth.

“Vanessa said she’s lending it to me. That makes it my home now. You just trespassed into someone else’s house. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“And did yours teach you to be shameless?” I fired back. “You move into someone else’s home, wreck the place, and then act like you own it?”

I dialed Vanessa. “Get to the new house. Now.”

She immediately caught on.

“It’s just for a while—why are you so mad that Derek’s living there?”

“You refused to let me pick him up, and he’s still injured. I don’t feel right letting him walk all that way.”

“Our wedding house is near his office anyway. We’re not using it, so why let it sit empty?”

Derek grinned smugly. “Even if you call Vanessa, it won’t change anything. She agreed to everything I’ve done here.”

“And you don’t have to get so worked up. I might be the real man of this house.”

I ended the call.

“Then why doesn’t she just marry you? You’ve been childhood sweethearts for years. Seems like it should’ve been your turn. So why am I the one she’s marrying?”

From what I’d seen, Vanessa didn’t choose Derek because she looked down on his background.

He never even finished high school—started working in a factory straight out of junior high, tightening screws.

Both his parents are unemployed, relying on relatives to get by.

I, on the other hand, was born and raised in Los Angeles, graduated from top-tier Las Vegas University, and my family owns a courtyard house.

Any woman would know who to pick.

Derek’s expression shifted. My words struck a nerve. His face turned grim.

“Vanessa just hasn’t faced her feelings yet. You’ll see. The two of you are never getting married!”

Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment.

And instantly, Derek screamed and dropped to the floor.

“Ethan, I was wrong! I shouldn’t have touched your new house! Don’t hit me—please, don’t kill me!”

Vanessa rushed over to shield Derek. “Ethan, how could you hit someone like that?”

“First of all, I didn’t hit him. But even if I had, wouldn’t he deserve it?”

Vanessa glanced around the room. “Derek, what did you do to the place?”

“Vanessa, didn’t you say I could make myself comfortable? I really didn’t like your house’s decor, so I changed it to match my own style.”

“These things weren’t cheap. Don’t they look good? I was just trying to help.”

Vanessa frowned. “Ethan, I agree that Derek shouldn’t have changed the decor without asking, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve hit him.”

“Just apologize to him, and I’ll let it go.”

I laughed in disbelief.

“Vanessa, are you blind? Can’t you see he’s pretending? We’re supposed to get our marriage certificate tomorrow, so why don’t you just marry him instead?”

I turned to leave, furious.

Vanessa quickly chased after me and grabbed my arm.

“Ethan, don’t be mad. Derek’s still immature—just ignore him.”

“Then have him restore everything and get out immediately.”

“I don’t even want this house anymore. It feels filthy!” I pointed toward the bedroom. “He slept on our wedding bed—I feel sick!”

“Alright, alright. We’ll sell the house and get a new one.”

Derek panicked. “Vanessa, why are you always siding with him? He’s the one who hit me!”

“Stop talking, Derek. I shouldn’t have let you move in.”

Hearing that, Derek ran out crying.

Vanessa became flustered. “It’s so late. It’s not safe for Derek to be alone. Let’s meet at the Civil Affairs Bureau tomorrow.”

I was so angry I couldn’t stop crying. I wanted to break up on the spot—but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Still, I showed up at the Civil Affairs Bureau the next day right on time.

But no matter how long I waited, Vanessa never arrived.

I called her—she didn’t answer for a long time.

Finally, she picked up and said, “Derek sneezed twice this morning. I got worried and took him to the hospital. There’s no rush for the marriage certificate. Let’s reschedule.”

Before I could respond, she hung up.

I was livid.

Reschedule with your sister! I’m done!

I sent her a single word: “Breakup.” Then blocked her on everything.

I figured I’d just wasted my time. So I called Sophie.

“You still want to get married? If yes, come here now!”

Ten minutes later, Sophie arrived at her red Ferrari.

I brought her straight to the Civil Affairs Bureau. “If you want to back out, now’s your last chance. Once the red booklet is stamped, there’s no going back.”

Sophie grinned. “Don’t worry. I promise you won’t regret it!”

After we got our marriage certificate, I received a Facebook message from Derek.

“I told you—you wouldn’t get married.”

I snapped a photo of the certificate with Sophie and sent it back.

“Thanks. I’m officially the son-in-law of the Bennett Group.”