Hearing my voice crack with grief and anger, Warren fell silent for a brief moment.

For just an instant, he seemed shaken. Then he remembered what his mother had once told him.

"In a marriage, either the husband controls the wife, or the wife controls the husband. Jade's family is well-off. If you don't establish your authority now, you'll be the one suffering for the rest of your life."

Repeating those words in his mind, his heart hardened.

"There are less than two hours before I come to pick you up," Warren said. "You don't want our wedding to become a joke, do you?"

Without waiting for me to respond, he continued, "Stop making a scene. Just let someone else do your makeup for now. Once the wedding's over, I'll make it up to you. Whatever compensation you want, I'll agree to it."

I didn't even realize my parents had walked over until they were standing beside me.

My mother had spent decades building her business.

She was known for being decisive, fearless, and impossible to intimidate. No matter how fierce the competition, she never let her emotions show. But even someone with the patience of a saint had finally reached her limit.

Without saying a word, she gently took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

My father's forehead was lined with bulging veins. His eyes were bloodshot, but his voice remained remarkably calm as he took my phone from my hand.

"Warren. We only have one daughter. And I won't allow anyone to bully her while I'm still alive."

"You and Jade spent seven years together before reaching this day. We all want this wedding to go smoothly."

"If you don't understand our position, I won't blame you. But I only need one thing from you."

"Send the makeup artist here. Show me with your actions that you truly want to marry my daughter."

Silence stretched across the line.

Finally, Warren spoke. "Dad... Please think about the bigger picture. Help me convince Jade to get her makeup done first."

"I'm about to leave to pick her up. All the relatives are already here. Let's not make ourselves the laughingstock of everyone else."

"When the wedding is over, you can hit me, yell at me—I'll accept whatever punishment you think I deserve."

My father's expression turned cold as he thundered, "Don't call me Dad."

When he ended the call, I took my phone back.

Without another word, I opened the wedding planning group chat.

My fingers moved steadily across the screen. I cancelled the bridal robe photos, and the bride's pickup ceremony as well.

The wedding coordinator replied almost immediately.

[Should the rest of the schedule continue as planned?]

I looked at the message for a few seconds before typing back.

[Keep filming. Everything else... we'll decide later.]

I looked up at my parents. "Dad, Mom. I don't want to let this go anymore."

The two of them exchanged a glance.

My father stepped forward first. He carefully wiped away the tears on my face, just as he had done countless times throughout my life.

"Jade. Don't be afraid."

I had heard those words for twenty-seven years. As long as my father said them, I truly believed there was nothing in this world I needed to fear.

He smiled gently. "Dad's going to call your uncles and cousins over right now."

I was an only child. But my father had many brothers.

After generation upon generation of sons, I had been born as the only girl in the entire Mendez family.

Since the day I came into this world, I had been everyone's precious treasure.

My mother stepped forward and hugged me. "No matter what you decide to do next... I'll support you."

Then she turned to one of the emergency makeup artists she'd managed to hire.

"Please do my daughter's makeup first. It doesn't have to be bridal makeup. Just make her look refreshed."

Afterward, she picked up her phone and called Avery.

"It's alright if you can't make it. And you don't need to do anyone else's makeup either. We'll still pay your full fee."

Clara muttered curse after curse under her breath, calling Warren every name she could think of.

Grace gently rubbed my back, unable to hide the pain in her eyes.

Even my aunt, who had witnessed everything from the beginning, couldn't contain her anger.

"I'll explain everything to the relatives. No family should ever have to endure this kind of humiliation."

The videographer silently gave me an OK sign, letting me know that every second had been recorded.

My phone rang again and Warren's name flashed on the screen.

I declined the call. A second later, he called again. However, I still declined it.

Without another glance at my phone, I walked into my room.

I slowly took off the elaborate wedding dress I'd been wearing since before dawn. Instead, I changed into the simple beige dress I wore most often.

Sitting in front of the mirror, I opened WhatsApp.

A new message from Warren had popped up. [Babe, just another hour and a half, and I'll finally be there to pick you up. Be good.]

The makeup artist worked quietly, her brushes moving gently across my face.

Oddly enough, after everything that had happened, I found myself calmer than before.

Ever since I'd learned that the celebrity makeup artist my mother had spent a fortune booking had been "given" to someone else, I'd been consumed by anger and anxiety.

But now... Perhaps because things couldn't get much worse, my mind finally settled.

As I sat there, memories of the last seven years with Warren replayed one by one like scenes from a movie.

We met in college. At that time, he was a year ahead of me.

The moment he saw me, he fell in love at first sight and pursued me relentlessly.

Warren was tall, handsome, outgoing, and charming. Combined with the irresistible aura of being the popular senior on campus, I had fallen for him before I even realized it.

We went on dates, studied together, traveled together. For four years, our relationship had been almost unbelievably sweet.

Then I graduated. We both returned to Florida to build our careers.

That was when his godsister began appearing in our lives more and more often.

Whenever we went to an amusement park, Isabelle would suddenly call, saying she was in a bad mood and craving the crispy crab they used to eat as children.

Without hesitation, Warren would leave me behind to buy it for her.

On our anniversary, she once called in tears because her kitten had gotten sick. He left our dinner halfway through to take her and the kitten to the veterinary hospital.

Even when we traveled together, Isabelle somehow always managed to appear midway through the trip.

And every single time, Warren's attention would drift entirely toward her.

I would be left standing there alone, watching him look at her with the same tenderness that was supposed to belong to me.

I cried, I argued, I even threatened to break up.

But every time... I couldn't bear to walk away from the relationship I'd invested so many years in.

Warren would smile, coax me back into forgiving him... And then do exactly the same thing again.

His excuse never changed. "She's like my little sister. Just let her have this one."

So I kept giving in, over again. Until today.

Until even my wedding... Even the celebrity makeup artist my mother had spent a hundred thousand dollars on hiring had to be "given" to Isabelle first.

Since I wasn't doing the elaborate bridal makeup anymore, the emergency makeup artist finished in just over thirty minutes.

Outside, the first pale light of dawn stretched across the horizon.

One after another, my older cousins arrived.

Each of them offered a few quiet words of comfort before finding a seat.

Soon, the entire living room was packed. Even the younger relatives—who had originally planned to block the groom's entrance as part of the traditional wedding games—sat quietly in neat rows.

No one smiled. No one joked. The atmosphere was heavy.

Clara stood on my right side while Grace stood on the other side. The two of them looked less like bridesmaids and more like bodyguards prepared to charge into battle at any moment.

My parents sat together at the head of the living room.

My father's expression was colder than I'd ever seen. However, my mother, smiled calmly as she poured tea for everyone.

"Have some tea first. We'll be counting on all of you in a little while." She said it with the same composure she might have used to comment on today's weather.

—

Meanwhile, Warren was beginning to feel uneasy.

I wasn't answering his calls. I wasn't replying to any of his messages. Still, he was convinced that I loved him too much to actually do anything drastic.

'Jade had always been sensible. She cared too much about appearances. There was no way she'd ruin her own wedding.'

After reassuring himself with that thought, he pushed away the growing knot of anxiety and continued preparing for the bride-pickup ceremony as planned.

Just before they left, Isabelle climbed into the wedding car.

"Warren, I want to come with you to pick up Sister Jade."

He hesitated.

Something about it didn't feel right. But after a little pouting and a few rounds of pleading, he gave in—as he always did.

When the wedding convoy finally arrived at the Mendez family's villa, everything looked perfect.

Bright red Double Happiness decorations covered the entrance.

A red carpet stretched all the way to the front door.

Yet, the house was eerily silent.

There were no laughing relatives. No children waiting to block the entrance.

None of the excitement that should have filled a bride's home on her wedding day.

A chill ran down Warren's spine, and his uneasiness deepened.

He hurried inside with the rest of the wedding party.

There were no obstacles, no games, no one tried to stop him. He walked straight into the living room.

The moment he stepped inside, his heart skipped a beat.

The room was packed with people. Every seat was occupied.

Dozens of eyes turned toward him in complete silence. Then he saw me.

I wasn't wearing my elaborate white bridal dress anymore. Instead, I was dressed in an ordinary beige dress.

His instincts screamed that something was terribly wrong.

Looking directly at me, he forced a smile. "Jade... What's going on? I'm here to take you home."

"Our relatives are all waiting. Come with me."

Before I could answer, Isabelle stepped forward.

Her face was flawless—the masterpiece of the celebrity makeup artist who should have been preparing the bride.

Radiant and breathtaking, she looked more like the star of today's wedding than I did.

She lowered her head slightly, her voice soft and pitiful. "Warren only asked the makeup artist to do my makeup first."

"Are you angry because of that, Jade?"

"If you are... I'm sorry. But today is your wedding."

"Please don't make a scene, and just go with Warren."

Around me, several of my older cousins immediately started to rise from their seats, their expressions dark.

I raised a hand, signaling them to stay where they were. I picked up a glass of water sitting on the table. Then, I walked toward Isabelle.

And in front of everyone present... I did something no one saw coming.