Rowena quickly sent a voice message:

"Don’t take it the wrong way, Elara is in the group."

She even made sure to tag me:

"Elara, don’t listen to them," Rowena said. "They only think I’m more suitable for Desmond. No, that’s not what I meant. What I mean is, once they get to know you, they’ll realize you and Desmond are a perfect pair."

Then, Rowena posted a selfie with Desmond in the group.

She was leaning against his shoulder, her eyes slightly red, her lips swollen and bruised.

She captioned:

[Let me be selfish just this one last time. After tomorrow, you’ll belong to someone else.]

Anyone could tell those lips had recently been kissed.

The sense of intimacy was unmistakable.

I couldn’t help but laugh, though it was bitter and full of frustration. 'This is the pure, innocent childhood friend?'

No wonder Desmond went out of his way to pick her up.

I immediately sent a voice message: "Such a pure friendship. Desmond, is your friendship sealed with a kiss? Really, it’s an eye-opener."

The group exploded with comments immediately.

Rowena quickly followed up with another voice message:

"Elara, please don’t misunderstand the photo I just sent. I just bit my lip. Even though Desmond is my first love, and even though my leaving to study abroad hurt him and led him to be with you, he promised to marry you and take responsibility. I still wish you both the best," she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

At once, the group started jeering:

[People from lower backgrounds just don’t get it, huh? Can’t take a joke, so petty!]

[How did Desmond end up with someone like her? He should never bring her out with us again.]

[Exactly! Every time she’s around, Rowena ends up feeling so wronged. What’s Elara’s business with it? Doesn’t she realize she’s the real third wheel?]

My blood boiled.

From day one, Desmond’s friends had always looked down on me.

They would put me down to feel superior.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I typed out: [Shut up, all of you! You all love following Rowena. Now that Desmond is married and she’s heartbroken, this is your chance to win her favor!]

Desmond immediately started a voice call in the group: "Elara, apologize to my friends right now. You’re way out of the line!"

I sneered. "So, you’re here now, huh? When they insulted me, you didn’t say a thing. All of a sudden, you want me to apologize? You were acting deaf and mute earlier, weren't you? Now you're just coming out of nowhere to demand an apology?"

Desmond snapped, anger in his voice. “Do you even get how much you just hurt Rowena? She’s been pampered and protected her whole life. She doesn’t know what it’s like to scrape by in the slums like you did. You and Rowena are from two completely different worlds."

I felt a deep sting. Desmond wasn’t just defending Rowena; he was attacking me.

"Do you have any idea how much your words hurt her?"

Then I heard Rowena’s soft sobs through the phone.

“I just sat in your car, that’s all. Why would Elara twist it into something ugly about me and my friends? They are good people. Why would she say such cruel things? Just because I rode with you? Besides, she could’ve just taken a public bike to the hotel, no traffic, no problem. Is she really so vain that she has to treat me like this?”

Desmond’s tone shifted instantly to gentle and coaxing, as if he hadn’t been tearing into me seconds ago.

“Don’t cry. If Elara really wants this wedding, she needs to apologize to you and to my friends. Otherwise, she doesn’t need to show up at all.”

His voice, still cold but with a hint of finality, spoke through the phone. "Elara, I’m giving you one last chance. Did you hear me? Apologize to Rowena and my friends before the wedding, or this marriage won’t happen."

I laughed bitterly, the anger in my chest rising. "Finem then! Wait for me at the wedding venue. I’ll come and apologize.”

Rowena’s voice came through, sweet and almost coaxing, as she said, "Desmond, you know she really loves you. When you're upset, she gets scared. It seems like she really wants to marry you."

I hung up the phone, my eyes lingering on the group chat where Desmond’s friends were posting their usual cruel remarks.

[Wow, looks like the real puppet is Elara. She’ll do anything for money, even sell her dignity. Wasn’t she acting so arrogant earlier? Now that Desmond says he won’t marry her, she’s losing it. Marrying into the Hawke family as a daughter-in-law? Her family must be over the moon.]

I closed the wedding group chat, the sting of their words still sharp.

Shaking it off, I opened another group chat titled "Cool Breeze Squad."

I posted a photo of myself in my wedding dress, riding a public bike.

Along with the photo, I dropped the hotel address in the group chat and typed:

[This is my wedding. You’re all invited. Get here by public bike.]

The group instantly lit up:

[Whoa, Elara! You’ve been MIA for two years and finally pop up! How’s life been?]

[Elara, you’re telling us east while we’re heading west. But wait, you’re seriously making us ride public bikes? Is that a new flex?]

[Quit whining. Elara said public bikes, so we ride public bikes!]

[Got it. I’m on my way and I’ll be on time.]

Only one person didn’t join in the laughter.

It was Cyrus Vance, my childhood friend.

He messaged me privately.

[Who are you marrying? Desmond Hawke? Does he even deserve you?]

I could tell he had been keeping tabs on me over the years.

I grinned and replied:

[If Mr. Cyrus Vance is willing to ride a bike to propose, then I’ll marry you.]

I turned off my phone, a sense of empowerment flooding me.

Without a second thought, I grabbed the long skirt of my wedding dress and tore it in half, turning it into a short one. After all, this dress wasn’t my choice. It was Desmond’s, or rather, Rowena’s.

When the dress arrived, I couldn’t hide my disappointment. It was nothing like the one I’d picked out.

“Why isn’t it the one I chose?” I asked, my tone edged with frustration.

Desmond shrugged, his voice dismissive. "Rowena specially chose this one for you. She said it’s the best fit. You should trust her judgment. She’s a fashion designer. You can’t possibly know better than a professional, right? This is haute couture, Elara. You’ve never worn anything like this before so that you wouldn’t understand. Just trust Rowena."

Rowena jumped in, her tone sweet but patronizing. "Elara, you might not know what people in our circle like, but it’s different from your usual crowd. You’ll have to adapt. This one suits you best."

'Suited me best?' I thought, feeling the bitter sting.

She’d chosen this dress to highlight all my flaws.

And it arrived just the day before the wedding—no chance to change it. It was as if she wanted me to look foolish.

When Desmond and I first met at Winslow Group, he’d assumed I was just a low-level employee.

That day, the company held its annual family day, and employees were invited to bring their families.

There was no need for business attire, so I showed up riding a public bike, carrying a big bag of snacks for my colleagues’ kids.

As I entered through the front gate, my public bike scraped against Desmond’s car. He noticed me right away, and before I knew it, he was pursuing me.

He insisted that no matter my status or profession, he only liked me.

Back then, my father always doubted my ability to handle hardship.

To prove him wrong, I made a bet with him: if I could stay at Winslow Group, work my way up from the bottom, and stick it out for two years without quitting or getting fired, I would pass his test and inherit the Winslow Group.

But those two years had to be mine alone.

No contact with old friends, no asking for help. Just me, on my own.

I rented a small apartment with my salary, rode a public bike to work every day, and threw myself into the work at the ground level.

During those two years, I transferred between departments, gained insight into the company's inner workings, and began to earn recognition from my superiors.

I even managed to get promoted twice.

The work was challenging, but I had come this far. And now, I was about to marry Desmond. Although, honestly, things had changed a lot since those early days.

Desmond had always been kind to me. Even though he saw me as just a lowly employee, he still pursued me with enthusiasm, gradually letting my guard down.

And so, after a year together, he proposed, and I said yes.

Today, on our wedding day, was the day I had planned with my father. It was supposed to be the day I could finally reveal my true self.

I had planned to tell Desmond that I was the daughter of the Winslow family and the heir to Winslow Group. He had always wanted to build a connection with Winslow Group, and now he had achieved that goal.

But now, I realized it was a blessing I hadn’t told him earlier.

Someone like him would never be able to cooperate with Winslow Group.

Wearing a wedding dress and riding a bike, I drew curious glances from people on the street.

In the distance, a car sped toward me, splashing dirty water all over me as it passed.

I swerved to avoid it, but I lost my balance and fell.

As I stood up, I heard laughter.

Looking up, I saw that it was Desmond's wedding car procession. The last car, driven by one of Rowena’s friends, had done this on purpose to embarrass me.

There I was, a mess in my wedding dress, riding a public bike to the hotel, while Desmond’s Bentley and the entire procession were parked in front of the hotel.

I was locking my bike when the loud electronic tone rang out: “Locking successful.”

This caught the attention of the people getting out of their cars, and they burst into laughter.

"No way. She really rode a public bike here?"

"Wow, did she roll around in a pit? She’s wearing something so flashy, and she has no shame?"

"Desmond, your girlfriend really went all out for this wedding! I’ve never seen a bride ride a public bike before."

"That wedding dress is already torn. She even ripped the skirt to ride the bike. Doesn’t she feel embarrassed?"

Rowena, in her haute couture dress, looked more like a bride than I did.

She tightly clung to Desmond’s arm, pinching her nose.

"Elara, why do you look so messy? If I had known, I would’ve had one of the cars pick you up. It’s my fault for being carsick and causing all this. But, seriously, why didn’t you change before seeing people? Are you planning to get married like this?"

I gritted my teeth. "This is all thanks to you, Rowena."

Rowena walked over and tried to grab my hand, but I pulled away sharply.

Her eyes reddened as she said, "Elara, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you wouldn’t even take a taxi. You could’ve gotten one for twenty or thirty bucks. Why be so frugal? Doesn’t Desmond give you enough money to spend?"

"You’re dressed like this and riding a bike. There are reporters everywhere around the hotel. What are you going to do if they take pictures? What will Desmond do? Later, when he meets business partners, if they find out, they’ll laugh at him. You really don’t understand anything, do you? If you’re going to marry Desmond, can’t you at least learn to help him? You can’t keep holding him back."

She leaned in close, whispering in my ear, "Elara, someone as shabby as you, dreaming of fancies marrying into the Hawke family? Dream on. I'm the only one who can be Desmond's wife."

Rowena suddenly clutched my hand, her long red nails digging into my arm as she turned to Desmond and his buddies with a sugary smile.

“Desmond, don’t you think she and I look like sisters?”

The guys around us burst out laughing.

“Sisters? More like a lady and her maid.”