I wasn’t planning to confront her just yet, so I replied:

“No, I’m not angry. Work has been busy and I’m just not in the mood.”

She sent back a playful emoji.

“You can’t treat me like this! I worked so hard on breakfast and you said it was awful. That really hurt my feelings!”

“Alright,” I responded curtly.

After brushing her off, I contacted a private investigator and instructed them to monitor Lucy around the clock.

I needed to see if she would pull any more stunts—and figure out who her "partner" was in those bizarre games.

Meanwhile, the wedding preparations continued. I had a hunch this wedding was going to be... memorable.

Two days later, the private investigator sent me several photos: Lucy was getting into a man’s car, the two of them soaking in a hot spring at a resort, with her wrapped in a towel, her face was glowing with a gentle smile, her gaze soft as she looked at him. She was snugging into his arms, like a bird seeking shelter.

Even though I’d braced myself, I couldn’t help but clench my fists in anger.

The man was someone I knew—her senior from college, Frank.

The irony? His company was only afloat because I had handed him a couple of long-term contracts.

Unbelievable. Not only was he profiting off me, but he was also fooling around with my fiancée.

The investigator sent me a follow-up message:

“Mr. Alex, I also have an audio recording. Turn up the volume when you listen to it.”

I played the recording.

It wasn’t long before I heard Lucy’s voice.

They were obviously engaging in one of their “games” again.

I was shocked by how wild they got, but what struck me even more was how the composed, self-restrained woman I knew became utterly submissive and degrading in front of Frank.

My disappointment in her was complete.

But I wasn’t in a rush to deal with her yet.

I turned off the recording and called my assistant. “Find a suitable reason to terminate all business dealings with Frank’s company immediately.”

At this point, there were only seven days left until the wedding.

The next evening, I received a call from Lucy.

“Alex, it’s been ages since we went out for dinner together. I found a nice Texas restaurant. Let’s go!”

Texas food? Did she forget I couldn’t stand spicy food?

Curious, I agreed.

What I didn’t expect was that the dinner wouldn’t be just the two of us. When I arrived, Frank was there too.

It was obvious why he was present.

As soon as I sat down, Lucy clung to my arm, her tone urgent.

“Alex, why is your company doing this? Why did you suddenly stop working with Frank’s company?”

Frank sat across from me, silent but kept watching closely.

I gently removed her hand and answered calmly, “Our company has been facing operational challenges. Every department is tightening budgets and reducing costs. That’s likely why some contracts were canceled.”

“Impossible! Your company needs those products. Unless you’ve found another supplier,” Frank snapped, emboldened by Lucy’s obvious favoritism.

“Our choice of suppliers is none of your concern, Mr. Frank,” I replied coldly.

Frank’s face darkened. He shot a pleading look at Lucy.

She turned to me, her tone sharp. “Alex, it’s just a few contracts! What’s the harm in letting Frank’s company handle them? Didn’t everything go smoothly before?”

“And how much could switch suppliers possibly save you? Alex, are you giving him a hard time just because I’m about to marry you?”

I stood up, gazing at her flawlessly beautiful face with indifference.

“Feelings are feelings. Work is work. Don’t involve me in something like this again. You two can enjoy the meal.”

Without another word, I walked out.

I was in a meeting when my phone buzzed with a notification: Your delivery has arrived.

Curious, I opened it, only to find it was still logged into Lucy’s account. She had ordered a whip and a wildcat costume.

My fiancée had always been in the picture of elegance and grace. Why the sudden interest in something so... adventurous?

I clicked to view the order details, but it had already been deleted.

A chilling realization hit me: the woman I cherished might be someone else’s playground now.

Our wedding was just ten days away and she had told me it was the moment she’d been dreaming of.

Yet, she wouldn’t be the bride I married in the end.

I didn’t confront her. Instead, I buried myself in work until late at night. When I finally returned home, she had called several times. I ignored every one of them.

Her final message read:

[Alex, it’s your birthday today. Come back soon—I’m waiting for you at home.]

Only then did I remember it was my birthday.

I began to second-guess myself. Maybe she had bought those items to surprise me? Could I have misunderstood her?

When I opened the door, there she was, her eyes lighting up as she rushed toward me like a butterfly.

“Why are you so late? I’ve been waiting forever!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me.

But then, I noticed faint whip marks on her body—small but unmistakable.

A cold wave washed over me. The woman I planned to marry was secretly playing twisted games behind my back.

She handed me a small, elegant box. “Happy 26th birthday, Alex! Open it. I hope you like it.”

Inside was an Armani belt, beautifully crafted.

“It’s nice,” I said flatly, tucking it away.

She pulled me toward the dining table, where she lit the candles on a cake.

“Make a wish, Alex!” she urged, leaning in to kiss me softly.

Once, her kisses would have thrilled me. Now, they made my stomach churn.

I blew out the candles and headed for the bedroom.

“Won’t you have dinner with me? I worked so hard to prepare everything,” she pleaded, grabbing my wrist.

Without turning around, I replied, “I’m not hungry.”

Ignoring the disappointment on her face, I left her standing there and went to my room, tossing her gift into the trash.

After my shower, she knocked on the door. “Alex, can we sleep together tonight?”

Although she had moved in after our engagement, she had insisted we sleep in separate rooms.

Now, she was suddenly breaking her own rule?

I thought about the countless times I had begged her for this, only to be refused. And now, the whip and wildcat costume from earlier came back to mind.

It was laughable.

“I’m exhausted and need to rest,” I said coolly.

She stood outside the door, stunned by my response. After a long silence, she whispered goodnight and walked away.

The next morning, she woke me up—an unusual occurrence since she was never an early riser. She had made breakfast.

This time, I didn’t refuse and quietly ate the porridge.

But as I sat there, she casually picked up my phone and began scrolling through it.

“Where’s your delivery app? It’s gone,” she asked nonchalantly.

At that moment, everything clicked. Her sudden attentiveness wasn’t guilt or love—it was fear. She didn’t want me to discover the truth about that order.

I stood, took my phone back and replied, “I deleted it.”

She visibly relaxed but then asked, “You’re done? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I said, “It’s awful. Don’t bother cooking next time.”

Her face froze. She didn’t move as I walked out the door.

Later, I left the Texas restaurant.

Lucy ran after me, grabbing my arm with a pitiful look on her face.

“Alex, please don’t be angry, okay? Your company suddenly canceled those contracts. Frank’s company is on the verge of collapse! I just wanted to help him. I swear, I didn’t mean anything else!”

"Does Frank enjoy spicy food?" I asked her.

Her face twisted in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

I smiled faintly. "Have you forgotten I don't eat spicy food? Yet you took me to a Texas restaurant?"

Her complexion turned ashen. "I'm sorry... I forgot... I just..."

I shook her off and walked away. She ran after me, but I ignored her, got in my car and drove off.

Lucy didn’t return home until after midnight.

By then, I was already asleep, but she came into the bedroom and shook me awake.

"What is it?" I asked, annoyed.

She wrapped her arms around me and said softly:

"Alex, I just thought the restaurant looked good and wanted you to try it. I didn’t mean to take you somewhere spicy."

She hesitated, then added, "It was my own idea to go there. It has nothing to do with Frank. Please don’t be mad, okay?"

"Hmm," I responded coldly.

She looked up at me, her eyes pleading. "If you have issues with Frank’s company, tell him directly so he can make improvements. Don’t cut him off completely—it’s so hard for him to run a startup."

Once again, she was pleading Frank’s case.

I pushed her away and sneered. "You think running my company is easy? That beggar ate at my table for two years and now that I don’t want to feed him anymore, I’m the bad guy?"

"Alex, why have you become so selfish?" she said, looking utterly disappointed.

Selfish? My fiancée had been fooling around with Frank and I’m the selfish one?

I laughed in disbelief. "Anything else? If not, I’d like to get some sleep."

"Hmm! Sleep then! For all I care, sleep yourself to death!" she snapped and stormed off.

I followed her to the door. When she turned back, thinking I might apologize, I slammed the door in her face and locked it.

We didn’t speak for two days. Neither of us tried to bridge the silence and when we were home, we each did our own thing.

Then one day, Lucy called, her tone sharp. "Alex, how long are you planning to play dead? Are we still getting married or not?"

"Of course," I replied indifferently.

At that moment, I was reviewing new photos sent by the private investigator. They showed Lucy visiting an expensive private hospital for scar treatment—with Frank by her side.

Afterward, they went to a hotel and stayed there for five hours.

With the wedding fast approaching, they were clearly racing against the clock to enjoy themselves.

On the phone, Lucy demanded, "I want to pick out the most expensive wedding dress—serves you right for making me mad! Blame yourself!"

"Sure," I said, hanging up immediately.

Moments later, she sent me a message on WhatsApp:

"How dare you hang up on me? Alex, you’re getting more and more impatient with me. Is it because you’ve had me and now don’t cherish me anymore?"

Cherish? She wanted me to cherish a woman who had been thoroughly used by another man?

I didn’t reply and left her message unread.

That afternoon, the private investigator sent me a video, warning: "Mr. Alex, the content of this video might be upsetting. Please prepare yourself."

I clicked play.

In the video, my fiancée—dressed in a luxurious wedding gown—was flirting with Frank in a fitting room.

As I stared at the screen, a new message from Lucy popped up on my phone.

It was a photo of her, wearing the same wedding dress, taking a selfie in front of a mirror.

"Alex, don’t I look beautiful in a wedding dress?"

Expressionless, I replied, [You look great.]

She sent a smiling emoji and followed up with: [You should be grateful I’m marrying you.]

The day before our wedding arrived quickly.