At the engagement banquet, my mother placed my favorite sweet and sour ribs in front of my younger sister. Smiling at her with meaning, she said, “You girl, since childhood, you’ve always snatched everything from your sister. But when it comes to marriage, how come you’re willing to fall behind?”

Ophelia Hansen picked up the last rib and, with deliberate provocation, dropped it into my fiancé’s bowl. “Isn’t it true we haven’t married yet? Who’s first and who’s second is still uncertain.”

On the side, several uncles and aunts whispered to my father, saying Kendrick Beckham was originally introduced for Ophelia, that I was shameless, scheming to steal my sister’s boyfriend.

I was about to flare up when the man beside me suddenly pressed my hand down.

——

And in the next instant, the entire table flipped over, soup and dishes splashing everywhere.

The private room froze in silence, every eye turning toward Kendrick, too stunned to utter a word.

Only Ophelia slammed down her chopsticks, glaring in fury. “Kendrick, what do you mean by this?”

Kendrick stayed calm, shielding me behind him.

“Nothing much. I’m just standing up for the one I love. I’ve seen clearly how Cassidy has been treated in this family. I never cared about people like you, but today I came here for her. If you dare bully my fiancée, don’t blame me for being rude.”

The Beckham family was large and powerful, and Kendrick himself was wealthy. They dared to call me shameless, yet none of them had the courage to offend him or the power behind him.

My mother quickly calmed Ophelia, then forced a smile and rushed over.

“We didn’t mean it like that. We’re family, just eating together and joking around. Don’t take it seriously…”

But just as the air began to ease, Ophelia suddenly stood and strode straight toward Kendrick.

She sneered and splashed red wine across Kendrick’s face. With a sharp tug, she tore open his shirt, her red nails tracing the blurred tattoo as her eyes gleamed with scorn.

“Fine words. But being with Cassidy, isn’t it just revenge on me for rejecting you back then? Ten years ago, I didn’t want you. Ten years later, I still don’t! You think finding someone like this can scare me? Dream on!”

With that, Ophelia slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out without a glance back.

When the echo of her heels faded, only Kendrick’s ragged breathing filled the silence. Everyone else sat frozen, too afraid to move.

I didn’t wait any longer. I pulled Kendrick away.

When we reached the parking lot, Kendrick suddenly lifted his head. In the dim light, his eyes were dark and unreadable.

“Cassidy, do you also think I’m with you just to spite Ophelia?”

“How could I?” I answered without hesitation.

Ten years, countless days and nights together, countless moments of sharing hardships. How could I doubt Kendrick’s sincerity because of a few words from Ophelia that provoked me?

Yet when I saw him absentmindedly stroking his wound, my heart still trembled.

Ten years had taught me to grow used to the silent, restrained Kendrick. But I had forgotten, at eighteen, he too had once burned with reckless passion.

Uncle had been right. Kendrick was first introduced to Ophelia by the family. The explanation back then was careful, almost gentle: Kendrick had been withdrawn since childhood, just returned from overseas, and might struggle to adapt, so they wanted to find him a friend to keep him company.

No one knew his true identity. But Ophelia, captivated by his striking face, still chose to step closer.

Back then, she was the proud and dazzling eldest daughter of the Hansen family, the radiant star who outshone everyone.

She was like a blazing flame, wrapping herself around Kendrick, melting that cold, unyielding block of ice.

Their love was wild and inseparable. At the height of it, Kendrick, ignoring his family’s objections, carved her name into his chest with ink that would never fade. They had promised, right after graduation, that they would marry.

Kendrick, brimming with hope, had carefully planned a proposal.

Yet when he sought out Ophelia, he found her laughing brightly, her hand tightly clasped in another man’s.

Refusing to accept it, Kendrick rushed forward, only to be met with a stinging slap across his face from Ophelia.

Her finger jabbed toward him as she sneered.

“Kendrick, it was only a game. You didn’t think I was serious, did you? Look at yourself, other than your face, what else do you have? Check your pockets. Can you even provide for me after marriage? If not, then disappear from my sight!”

With those words, the fragile pride of youth crumbled into dust. And Kendrick’s heart, once sincere, was torn open and scarred.

Kendrick fell gravely ill because of it, murmuring her name even in his dreams.

No one in the Hansen family paid it any mind.

It wasn’t until the Beckham family stormed in with fury to demand answers that everyone realized, this delicate, handsome boy was not only striking in appearance, but carried a formidable background.

He was the only son of the Beckham family. The future heir of the Beckham Group.

The family had feared he would struggle after returning to the US, so they concealed his identity, allowing him to gain experience on his own.

Who could have imagined that the very first test of love would erupt into such chaos?

My parents grew terrified.

Afraid Ophelia would be dragged into the matter, they sent her abroad overnight, while pushing me forward in her place.

I can still recall that day; it was my birthday.

For the very first time, Mom baked me a cake. She looked at me with a smile and said, “Cassidy, you are the elder sister. You must protect your younger sister. Ophelia is still young. Her whole future must not be destroyed in Kendrick’s hands.”

Back then, I had no power, no courage to resist my family’s will.

So, on my birthday, I was tied with a ribbon like a present and delivered to the Beckham family, to Kendrick’s side.

Kendrick despised me. He despised the Hansen family. He despised everything connected to Ophelia.

He called me cheap, hurled vases at me, shouted for me to get out, mocked me as stupid, and said my eyes carried the same hatred as Ophelia’s.

But no matter how cruel he was, I clenched my teeth and stayed by his side.

Then one day, Kendrick saw the engagement photo of Ophelia with another man. He stared at it in silence for a long time, then drowned himself in glass after glass of liquor.

At the height of his drunkenness, he dragged me out and, under the haze of alcohol, took to the streets in a reckless race. As expected, it ended in a car crash.

The second before the car exploded, I dragged Kendrick out, but my own back was torn open, blasted into a bloody mess.

Kendrick trembled as he cradled my blood-soaked body in his arms. That day, he wept for a long time before finally whispering in a hoarse voice, “Cassidy, will you be with me?”

Of course, I agreed, not only because of the faint affection I held in my heart, but also because he was the heir of the Beckham family.

He needed someone to help him forget the past and walk out of heartbreak, and I needed someone to lead me out of the abyss of the Hansen family.

So our relationship began.

After brushing so close to death, Kendrick grew steadier.

Our love was not as wild as his with Ophelia, but calm, steady, and quietly joyful.

He wished to start a business, and I stood beside him. He dreamed of founding a company, and I agreed without hesitation.

As a boyfriend, Kendrick was impeccable; as a business partner, flawless.

Ten years had passed. We had built our own company and had enough wealth to live comfortably for the rest of our lives.

One ordinary afternoon, Kendrick proposed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Cassidy, let’s get married.”

I agreed.

And thus came today’s farce.

The sound of a lighter broke through my thoughts. Kendrick, who had long since quit smoking, had somehow produced one.

A small flame flickered at his fingertips. In the dim glow, I could not see his expression clearly, only the smoke curling into rings as he exhaled.

Just as I was about to speak, he cupped the back of my head and kissed me deeply. Only when my breath was nearly gone did he finally let me go.

He pressed his forehead against the tip of my nose.

Gently yet firmly, he whispered, “Cassidy, being able to be with you in this life is my greatest blessing. From now on, let’s live well together and ignore that pack of bastards in the Hansen family.”

My heart eased in an instant. I nodded, but before I could reply, the shrill ring of my phone cut through the moment.

Caller ID: Ophelia.

Kendrick frowned, tapped his finger, and blocked the number. The car started, carrying us back to the villa where we lived.

That night, Kendrick was unusually clingy. Even in his sleep, he clutched my hand tightly, unwilling to let go for even a breath.

At dawn, the pillow beside me lay empty. In the quiet room, only the harsh sound of knocking echoed endlessly.

Sleepily, I went to open the door, only to see my mother standing there, her face dark with displeasure.

The moment her eyes landed on me, she snatched my platinum handbag and struck it against my head.

“You little slut! What did you say to Ophelia that made her cry in her room all night? You’ve already stolen Kendrick, isn’t that enough? Why must you drive your sister to death? How can your heart be so cruel! If you don’t apologize to Ophelia today, then from this moment on, I will no longer recognize you as my daughter!”

I had heard words like these far too many times since childhood.

The year I was born, my parents were busy building their empire, leaving me in the countryside. By the time their careers had flourished, Ophelia was already by their side.

To them, she was their daughter.

And I was nothing more than a shadow of an unbearable past they never wished to mention.

In that family, if Ophelia shed tears, it was always my fault.