The little princess of the elite circles had just returned to the country, only to be diagnosed with a terminal STD—her body covered in festering sores, with less than two weeks to live.

When the news reached my wedding, my stepbrother burst into tears and threatened to kill himself, demanding that I switch places with him as the groom.

I brushed off my suit, unmoved.

"Back when the little princess drew lots to choose her husband and picked me, you were the one who begged Dad to swap our names and steal the marriage arrangement."

"Now that she's dying and your shot at becoming the heir is gone, you're having regrets? I'm already getting married. If you think I'm going to take your place and jump into that fire pit, keep dreaming!"

To my disbelief, my fiancée Julia Henson rushed over and wrapped her arms around him, shooting me a look of disapproval.

"The ceremony hasn't started yet, and we haven't signed the marriage certificate—it doesn't count!"

"I can't just stand by and watch Neil suffer. Today's groom has to be him. You're his older brother—sacrificing for your younger brother is only right!"

My eyes flew wide open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

My father and stepmother nodded eagerly, tossing identity documents at my feet.

"I've already changed your name back," my father said. "The little princess is insatiable—never uses protection in bed. She's declared that before she dies, she's going to have one last fling as a bride."

"Neil was raised with the best of everything. He absolutely cannot catch some filthy disease, and he certainly can't become a widower. The other family isn't one to cross—if we back out, they won't let you go. Your only choice is to marry in!"

The two people in this world who should have been closest to me were now shoving me into the fire without a moment's hesitation.

My heart turned to ash. I closed my eyes briefly, then let out a cold laugh.

"Fine. Have it your way."

...

After I handed over the groom's suit to my stepbrother Neil Simmons, he bounced over to Julia and threw his arms around her, his face flushed.

"Jules, do I look handsome?"

Julia's eyes sparkled with undisguised admiration. She answered softly, "Very handsome."

"When I was designing it, I subconsciously used these measurements. I never expected it to fit you so perfectly. I guess it was fate—you were always meant to be my husband."

I froze for a moment, then couldn't help but smile bitterly.

No wonder the suit had felt too tight around the waist when I tried it on.

Because Julia had designed it herself, I hadn't wanted to disappoint her, so I'd kept quiet about it.

I'd thought I'd just put on a few pounds lately. Turns out the man she'd always wanted to marry was someone else entirely.

Seeing that I wasn't going to cause trouble, my stepmother actually stopped rolling her eyes at me for once.

My father even went so far as to praise me, saying I was finally acting like a proper older brother.

Watching the four of them laugh and chat like one happy family, I spoke up, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You don't actually think that just because I agreed to marry into the family in Neil's place, I'd do it without a bride price, do you?"

Their expressions stiffened.

"What do you want?"

"Ten percent of Simmons Corp shares."

The moment the words left my mouth, my father's face darkened.

"You ungrateful bastard! Those shares are for your brother! And here I was just thinking you'd finally learned some sense—turns out you're back to stealing from him already. Who do you think you are?!"

I'd always known my father played favorites. But even so, the words still cut deep.

"Ha! That company was built by my mother before she died. If Neil—the son of a homewrecker—can get shares, why the hell can't I?!"

"Don't forget—I'm your son too!"

My father's face turned a furious shade of purple. If he hadn't been worried about delaying the ceremony, he probably would have slapped me across the face right then and there.

He forced down his rage.

"Your mother was my wife when she was alive—even she belonged to the Simmons family, let alone her company. I decide who gets shares!"

"I fed you, clothed you, raised you to this age—you should be grateful!"

He'd been saying this ever since the day he brought Neil and his mother into our home.

Back then, I didn't understand. Why was it that a father raising his own child—the most natural thing in the world—somehow became something I had to grovel and give thanks for?

Eventually, I stopped thinking about it altogether.

A man who brought his mistress and illegitimate son into the house the moment his wife died—could I really expect him to care for the child she'd left behind?

Seeing my eyes redden, Julia's gaze flickered. She reached for my arm.

"Joseph, are you worried that once the Gilbert heiress dies, you'll have no one to rely on? Or are you afraid of catching some disease and not being able to afford treatment?"

"Don't worry. When the time comes, I'll bring you back and take care of you. I'll find you the best doctors. It's not that I don't care about you—it's just that Neil is so timid. I can't bear to make him suffer..."

Her words nearly made me retch.

I shook off her hand and pressed the knife to my wrist the same way Neil had, my voice cold.

"Fine. Don't give me the shares. I'll end it right here, right now."

"You said it yourselves—the Cresthaven princess isn't someone to cross. She's already been matched with the Simmons heir. If I die before the wedding, you can let Neil clean up the mess for the family."

My stepmother immediately tugged at my father's sleeve.

"Honey, we can't let Neil walk into that trap."

"The princess won't live much longer. The Gilberts will definitely choose a new heir. When that happens, our Neil will be a widower—and if he catches something too, how will he ever show his face again?"

"What if it's incurable? Joseph is a lost cause anyway—let him die. But Neil can't be buried alongside him!"

Neil's eyes welled with tears on cue.

My father had his assistant bring over the share transfer agreement and signed it immediately.

He didn't forget to reassure Neil that he'd give him even more shares as compensation.

I laughed coldly to myself. Go ahead. Give him whatever you want. In the end, I'll take it all back.

I won't let my mother's legacy fall into the hands of these parasites.

The emcee's voice cut through: "The ceremony is about to begin. Will the bride and groom please prepare to enter?"

Julia's eyes lit up with anticipation as she took Neil's arm and hurried away.

My father insisted that it would look bad if the groom's brother didn't attend, and dragged me into the banquet hall.

A last-minute groom swap—in all of Cresthaven, that kind of scandal was rare. Mocking, curious glances swept over me constantly.

When the ceremony finally ended and my father left to see off the guests, I found my chance to slip away.

But Julia called after me.

"Joseph, I know today was hard on you."

"I know that without you, I wouldn't be where I am today. Once the Gilbert heiress passes, I'll bring you back immediately and make it up to you properly. Neil won't object."

Julia and I had been college sweethearts. Back then, she was just a poor student, and I was the son my family never wanted.

We'd found solace in each other. Leaned on each other.

We used to say that even without Simmons Corp, we'd find our footing in Cresthaven together.

To help her start her business, I'd swallowed my pride, scrambling to raise capital and recruit talent for her.

Worried she'd be taken advantage of, I'd studied business management day and night, poring over complex case studies, becoming her personal consultant.

She'd once held my hand and sworn she'd give me a home. That she'd never let anyone hurt me again.

She broke that promise.

I had no interest in wasting words on her. I turned to leave.

And walked straight into Neil, holding a wine glass. He spoke timidly.

"Brother, I wanted to toast you. Thank you for stepping aside for me and Julia—and for taking my place in the marriage."

Julia praised him for being so thoughtful, then looked at me.

"Joseph, Neil means well..."

I cut her off, my voice ice.

"Julia, do I need to remind you that I'm allergic to alcohol?"

"Besides—the wedding suit was tailored to his measurements. You knew his body that well. You've been sleeping together, haven't you?" My lip curled. "I don't drink toasts from mistresses and their bastards."

I didn't bother lowering my voice. The guests who hadn't left yet turned to look.

Neil's face went pale instantly. He covered his face, crying, "I know you're angry with me, brother. If ruining my reputation by calling me a homewrecker makes you feel better, then fine—I'll accept it. It's my fault for not knowing my place..."

The moment he finished, Julia's expression turned icy.

"Joseph, be a good boy and drink the wine. Don't make me have someone force it down your throat."

I met her cold gaze without flinching. Julia scoffed and produced an entire bottle of high-proof liquor.

"Don't play games with me. Back when you were entertaining those older women, you could drink all night without a problem. How could you suddenly be allergic?"

"You just humiliated Neil in front of everyone. One glass isn't nearly enough to express your apology. Finish this whole bottle, then you can leave."

The expressions around me shifted instantly to mockery and disgust.

"How much does the great Simmons heir charge for a night of pouring drinks? Do those older women even satisfy you?"

"No wonder CEO Henson wanted a new groom. Who'd want such a filthy man? He's a perfect match for that Gilbert girl who sleeps around and caught some disease. At least Neil is clean—pure as a little white flower."

My eyes widened in disbelief. My nails dug deep into my palms.

Julia was too proud to ever lower herself to ask for favors. To secure projects and investments for her, I'd forced myself to attend those business dinners, drinking until my stomach bled. But I'd always kept myself clean.

The long hours and irregular meals had wrecked my immune system. That's when the alcohol allergy suddenly developed.

I'd never told her. I didn't want her to worry.

Before I could speak, Julia had already lost patience. She turned to her bodyguards.

"You have three minutes. Get that bottle down his throat. Neil is tired—he can't stand much longer."

They pinned my arms and pried my mouth open.

The burning liquor poured down my throat in an endless stream. I choked, tears streaming involuntarily down my face.

Almost immediately, angry red welts bloomed across my face and neck.

I collapsed to my knees, clutching my throat. Suffocation closed in around me.

Julia's face drained of color. She kicked away the bodyguard still trying to pour.

"Stop! Don't touch him!"

"Call 911 now! If anything happens to Joseph, I'll have your heads!"

By the time the ambulance arrived, Julia came running after it, trying to climb in with me.

"Joseph, I'm sorry. I thought you were lying to me. I—"

Despite the paramedic's repeated warnings, I pulled off the oxygen mask.

I spat directly in her face. Every word came out sharp as a blade.

"Trash. Don't touch me. You're filth."

Julia froze.

Behind her, Neil cried out, "Jules! I twisted my ankle—it really hurts! Come help me..."

She hesitated for just a moment. Then she turned and ran to Neil.

They took me to the hospital. After treatment, I could finally breathe normally again. The welts gradually faded.

The next day, Julia took Neil on a shopping spree at the mall.

Photos of them holding hands, flaunting their love, flooded every social media feed.

Meanwhile, not a single person came to see me—except my father's personal assistant.

And even that wasn't my father's idea.

Seeing how pale I looked, Abraham Lambert sighed.

"Young Master, you've been treated terribly."

"I wish I could do more than just visit you in secret. But I don't have the power to stop you from walking into that fire pit with the Gilbert family in seven days."

He'd been brought up by my mother to help protect the company. After she passed, he stayed on to assist my father—though he'd always quietly looked after me on the side.

I let a slow smile curve my lips.

"You're wrong. That's no fire pit."

"Abraham—interested in a partnership?"