"Aveline, I'm so glad you feel that way! I'm lucky to be marrying such a generous and big-hearted woman."

"It's just…" Lachlan paused.

"The wedding is tomorrow, and Sienna urgently needs money to launch her personal brand. Could you ask your father for a twenty-million-dollar seed fund? We can call it an 'investment' from me."

"Sienna's startup is having some trouble. If she can't get the money now, her dream will be ruined."

My father's gaze was as cold as a knife, his hand unconsciously reaching for the cigar cutter on the table.

But I just smiled and said:

"Going directly to Father might put him in an awkward position, don't you think? How about this: I'll have my lawyer draft a personal promissory note for you tonight. You can just 'borrow' the money from me. That'll solve her immediate problem, and you'll avoid the awkwardness of asking my family for money."

Lachlan hesitated. After all, it was a legally binding personal promissory note, making him personally liable for twenty million dollars.

Seeing his hesitation, I immediately added:

"Lachlan, it's just a formality. We're about to be husband and wife. What's mine is yours, right? I'm just thinking of your reputation. It doesn't look good in our circles to be using your fiancée's family resources before you're even married."

"You're right, Aveline. You're always so thoughtful."

Lachlan quickly signed the agreement and eagerly went to arrange the transfer.

I turned to my father.

"Father, what do you think of a marriage alliance with the Covington Group?"

My father was stunned.

"But you've always despised Rhys. You said he was crude and arrogant."

I gave a bitter smile. That was because in my last life, after my family was destroyed, Lachlan burned all my design blueprints to ashes.

It was Rhys who risked his fortune to crush the Bancroft Group, recovering the backups of my work from the wreckage. He was even willing to liquidate half of his Austin real estate portfolio just to build a museum for my unfinished designs.

It wasn't until I saw him kneeling before my memorial, crying like a helpless child, that I understood Rhys was the one who had truly loved me all along.

"Father, Rhys might be two years younger than me, but he's straightforward, not a schemer. His feelings for me… they’re real. Unlike some people, who are already calculating how to bleed our family dry before the vows are even spoken."

"Besides, you and Mr. Covington are on good terms. If I marry into their family, I know I won't be mistreated."

My father pondered for a moment, then a ruthless smile crept across his face. He turned and started making calls.

I walked out of the villa, hoping the evening breeze would clear my head.

The roses in the estate garden were in full bloom, but in my memory, this place was nothing but a desolate ruin after being auctioned off for a pittance. After my death, Lachlan burned all my belongings and threw my father's collections in the trash.

His demonic expression was seared into my mind.

"You old fool, this is what you get for standing in my way! If it weren't for you, Sienna and I would have been living happily ever after long ago!"

Tears streamed down my cheeks. I caressed the cold brick wall, letting the pain consume me.

Suddenly, I heard the idle chatter of gardeners in the nearby shade of the trees.

"Can you believe that Bancroft fellow went to Mr. Prescott tonight to demand his mistress be the maid of honor?"

"Maid of honor? I heard he wants a double wedding. The guy wants to marry both of them."

"That's outrageous! Who puts his fiancée and his mistress in the same wedding? Isn't that a slap in the face to Miss Aveline and her father?"

"I heard the Bancroft heir never wanted to marry her in the first place. They say she's the one who's desperate, throwing herself and her family's money at him now that his company is on the verge of bankruptcy. A top designer, and so shameless. Now she'll have to fight some little influencer for her man's attention every day. Bet she has to beg for every scrap he gives her."

Their words grew uglier, even imagining me licking Lachlan's leather shoes, begging him for a glance.

A wave of bitterness washed over me. So this was the pathetic creature they saw me as. But it was Lachlan who had pursued me first.

The Prescott and Bancroft families had been friends for generations, their business dealings intertwined.

From the time we were children, Lachlan had always been my playmate.

Back then, he would sit beside me, patiently explaining architectural drawings.

He would wipe the ink stains from the corner of my mouth and take me to Newport to watch the sailboat races.

When we grew up, he acted like my guardian angel, driving away every suitor who came near me.

I would pout in protest.

"Lachlan, you've scared them all away. What if I never get married?"

He would wrap his arm around my shoulders.

"You can only marry me. I won't let any other man near you."

Later, the year I was accepted to Harvard, he booked an entire restaurant to celebrate my twenty-first birthday.

That day, under the glittering crystal chandeliers, his eyes shone with a fiery light as he knelt on one knee and slipped a ring onto my finger.

But everything changed the moment he met Sienna Vance, a glamorous intern at my own company.

He was completely captivated by Sienna's carefully crafted persona on social media—sweet, ambitious, a ray of sunshine in his dull life. A single selfie on Instagram was enough to send his protective instincts into overdrive.

Worried that I might try to sabotage her, Lachlan rented a luxury apartment for her away from the office, giving her a "creative space" of her own.

It's not that I didn't throw fits or protest. But every time, I was met with the same response:

"I'm just supporting her career. Can you stop being so unreasonable?"

After countless fights and empty reconciliations, we finally reached a point of no return.

I let out a long sigh. Just as I turned to go back inside, Lachlan strode toward me from a distance, his face a mask of undisguised fury.

I looked at him in shock, wondering what had set him off this time.

"Aveline Prescott, we had an agreement! I just spoke with the wedding PR. Why hasn't Sienna's name been added to the official announcement as maid of honor?"

"Are you doing this on purpose? Are you trying to publicly humiliate her tomorrow?"

So that was it. All this righteous fury because his mistress wasn't getting top billing at our wedding.

But I was already planning to let them have the stage to themselves. A wedding for the three of us was never going to happen.

"Aveline, I know you're upset that Lachlan is so protective of me, but he truly just admires my work and wants to help me. If you didn't want me as your maid of honor, you could have just said so. Why risk a scene tomorrow?"

Sienna continued, "The Bancrofts are a prestigious family, Aveline. They have a reputation to uphold. If their bride causes a scene at her own wedding… what will Boston society say about Lachlan? How could he ever hold his head high again?"

With that, she lowered her eyes pitifully, as if about to cry.

"Aveline, I'm begging you, just have a peaceful wedding with Lachlan tomorrow. I don't have to be the maid of honor. Just please, don't let him be embarrassed in front of everyone."

"As long as Lachlan truly loves me, a title is just a formality. I don't care about such empty honors."

Her words were laced with a hint of stubbornness and sorrow. With every word she spoke, Lachlan's face grew a shade darker.

"Aveline Prescott, do you have to be so vicious?"

"Do you have to humiliate Sienna and make me look like a heartless bastard? Who would want to spend their life with a jealous monster like you?"

Because we were at the entrance of the estate, some business partners attending the rehearsal dinner and our family's bodyguards had gathered nearby.

A portly banker sighed, "This Miss Prescott… She knows the Bancroft heir has someone on the side, yet she insists on getting married. She must be after what's left of their family name."

"It's normal for a man to have someone on the side. If she were a little more understanding, this would all blow over. Making a scene out here is just embarrassing."

"No wonder the Prescott heiress is so stubborn. After all, she's been entangled with Mr. Bancroft for over a decade. If they don't get married, she'll be a pariah in Boston's social circles."

Their words were like poisoned daggers stabbing at my heart. Seeing my pale face, Lachlan thought I was scared and grew smug.

"Aveline, I'm not that heartless. As long as you don't make a scene and accept Sienna, I'll still give you the wedding you deserve tomorrow and make you Mrs. Bancroft."

But in my past life, this ungrateful monster had not only caused my father's death but had also personally destroyed my career. Now, watching his self-satisfied, tragic-hero act, I found it utterly pathetic.

He really thought he was some kind of business tycoon, with every woman fawning at his feet.

Perhaps my expression was so desolate that a flicker of guilt crossed Lachlan's face.

"Aveline, I was a bit heated just now, and my words were harsh."

"Don't worry, after we're married, you'll always be the mistress of this house. Sienna will have to respect you. How about this: let her have the spotlight at the wedding. After that, you're my wife. How does that sound?"

"See? I'm still choosing you in the end. So stop with the princess tantrums."

Hearing his arrogant words, I almost wanted to laugh out loud.

He was right. In my last life, when he and Sienna went on vacation, I protested with a hunger strike, crying and begging him to stay.

But in this life, whether he wanted to take Sienna for a magazine cover shoot or a lavish dinner, it had nothing to do with me anymore.

Forcing a man who doesn't love you to stay... it just leaves a disgusting taste in your own mouth.

"Alright, Lachlan, it's getting late, and we have a wedding tomorrow. We should all get some rest."

My cold attitude made Lachlan's face darken. He took a step closer, his voice low and menacing, for only us to hear.

"You'd better let Sienna have her moment in the spotlight tomorrow. Otherwise, don't blame me for sending some 'interesting' deep-fake videos to all our clients. Then we'll see which conservative family would dare to use a designer with a reputation like yours."

My heart tightened. In my past life, this was how he had exploited my weaknesses, forcing me to bow to him time and again, which only made him bolder until he had the Prescott family firmly in his grasp.

With that, Lachlan took Sienna's hand and turned to leave.