"Good!"

Relief flooded Irvin's face. He shot to his feet and reached for me. "Phyllis, I knew you'd understand. The guests are waiting—let's get back."

His tone shifted, threading in a note of reproach. "Honestly, fighting with your little sister over a red envelope? What will people think?"

I stepped back, blocking his outstretched hand.

"Irvin, the wedding is off. I'm done."

He froze, staring at me like I'd spoken in tongues. "What did you just say? Do you have any idea how many guests are out there? You want to humiliate me? Turn me into a laughingstock?"

"I'm not the one who should be embarrassed. Let them laugh."

I grabbed my purse and brushed past him toward the door. "You two made me the joke first. You mistook my patience for weakness."

I paused at the threshold, not bothering to turn around. "I came here to marry a man who'd put me first—not some spineless cheat who hides behind his 'little sister.'"

It was all so clear now. Family friend's daughter. What a joke. They were just two cheaters who couldn't keep their hands off each other.

All those times Irvin had used the Gilberts' past generosity as an excuse—buying Antonia designer clothes, expensive handbags, taking personal leave to whisk her off on trips whenever she felt sad. I'd swallowed it all. Now I saw it for what it was: an affair dressed up in sibling cosplay.

I'd just reached the doorway when Antonia burst in, tears streaming down her face. She dropped to her knees in front of me with a theatrical thud.

"Phyllis, this is all my fault! Auntie only gave me that big red envelope because she feels sorry for me—I have no one else. Here, take it all back. Please don't be angry at Irvin because of me."

Her voice cracked, perfectly pitched. "He loves you. I'm just... someone he keeps company with sometimes."

She fumbled with a wad of cash, shoving it toward me.

I swatted her hands away, irritation flaring. "Antonia, enough. Drop the act."

"Since you can't bear to be apart from your precious Irvin, why don't you just marry him yourself? You've already collected the bride price—what's left to pretend about?"

The force of my push sent her stumbling. She cried out and crumpled to the floor.

Irvin's expression darkened. He crossed the room in three strides and swept her into his arms. "Antonia! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

She gazed up at him, eyes glistening with wounded innocence, then slid a glance my way.

"Phyllis, you've hit me, and I've returned the money. Please don't be mad at Irvin anymore." Her lower lip trembled. "If you really hate me that much, I'll go back to my hometown. I won't see Auntie or Irvin ever again."

Auntie now, was it? Apparently the scene after I'd left had been quite the bonding moment.

Irvin's face contorted. He rounded on me. "Phyllis, can't you just be reasonable for once? You want to drive her away so everyone can call me an ungrateful bastard?"

I regarded them both with cold detachment. Now that I saw everything clearly, I had nothing left to explain.

I lifted my chin and moved to step around him.

That's when Irvin snatched the bundle of cash from the floor and hurled it straight at my face.

"It's always about money with you, isn't it? Fine—take it all!"

Bills exploded against my cheek, scattering to the ground.

"No wonder my mother wanted to test you before the wedding." His voice was savage. "Now I finally see who you really are."

He grabbed the remaining cash and flung it at me, bill after bill, each one hitting my face like a slap.

The commotion drew staff and guests to the doorway. Whispers slithered through the crowd.

"That's the bride. Apparently she's throwing a fit because the red envelope wasn't big enough."

"I heard she's a college professor. Can you imagine? So petty over pocket change—like some country girl who's never seen money before."

The more Irvin listened, the more convinced he became that he was in the right. He shot me a sidelong glance and said, "Phyllis, do you hear what everyone's saying about you? All this drama over a little gift money."

"You need to take a good hard look at yourself. Apologize to Antonia right now, or I don't even want to go through with this wedding."

I stared at the crimson bills scattered across the floor, my cheek still stinging.

I thought back to when he'd first pursued me—how he'd tiptoed around me every day, eager to please. He'd bring me breakfast, pick me up after work.

He'd even pressed his salary card and property deed into my hands with that stubborn insistence of his.

"Phyllis, everything I have is yours from now on. I'm going to make you the happiest woman alive. No one will ever hurt you."

Yet here we were, on our wedding day, and he was demanding I apologize to his so-called "little sister."

Every word out of his mouth accused me of being materialistic. Greedy.

Looking back now, I couldn't believe what I'd become. I was an only child from a major city with three properties to my name, and I'd let myself turn into a bitter, resentful woman—all for a love that was never real.

I crouched down and gathered the crisp stack of bills. My expression hardened as I locked eyes with Irvin's indignant face. Then I hurled the money straight at him.

"Who the hell do you think you're telling to apologize?"

"Go crawl back to whatever backwater you came from, Irvin. Stop making me sick."

Men like him—men who came from nothing—they never actually cared about respect or sincerity. What they cared about was making sure no one was after their money, finding people willing to dote on them for free, all to prove their so-called irresistible charm.

The moment anyone pushed back, they'd slap labels on them. Petty. Greedy. Difficult.

Irvin froze, clearly not expecting me to throw money in his face.

His composure shattered. "Phyllis, don't push your luck. Walk out that door today, and see if any man ever wants to marry a gold-digger like you."

My steps faltered for just a second. A cold laugh escaped me, and I kept walking.

But I didn't get far. His mother and the rest of the Floyds blocked my path. Before I could react, her palm cracked across my face.

"Have you lost your mind? Humiliating the Floyd family in front of everyone over a red envelope?"

"You ungrateful wretch. If it weren't for Antonia's father pulling strings, Irvin never would have gotten into that prestigious school. You think you'd have landed such an accomplished husband?"

Antonia drifted over, playing the peacemaker. "Mom, please don't be upset. It's understandable that she'd want to squeeze out a little extra money while she can—it's her wedding, after all."

"This is all my fault. I just wanted to share in the good fortune of Irvin's big day and offer you my blessings. If I'd known it would cause trouble, I never would have done the tea ceremony."

She sidled up and hooked her arm through mine. Under her breath, so only I could hear: "Who do you think you are, Phyllis? I'm the one who's family to them. If you want to marry Irvin, learn to keep your head down and your mouth shut."

I looked at her smug little face.

Then I raised my hand and slapped her with everything I had.

"Save the performance. The cheating bastard is all yours."

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and shoved her straight into Irvin. Then I walked away without looking back.

Behind me, everyone stood frozen. They'd never seen this side of me—the quiet, refined woman they thought they knew.

Antonia had been ready to crumple to the ground and play victim the moment I touched her. Instead, my slap sent her sprawling for real, and she took Irvin down with her. He landed right on top of her.

Please. My patience and kindness were reserved for people I actually loved. A cheating scumbag and his scheming mistress deserved nothing.

Behind me, Antonia's shrill scream pierced the air.

"Irvin! She hit me! She actually hit me!"

"Oh god—my stomach! My stomach hurts so bad!"

Chaos erupted. Someone called for an ambulance. Others rushed to comfort her.

I didn't turn around.

Three hours later, my flight touched down in Dali. I lay in a cozy guesthouse, scrolling through my phone. I canceled the honeymoon itinerary. Deleted our marriage registration appointment. Then I forwarded all the bills—the wedding planner, the venue, the hotel—to Irvin.

Let him sort it out.

After finishing all that, I finally saw Antonia's post online.

She was wearing a hospital gown, nestled in Irvin's arms, happily sipping the chicken soup he was feeding her.

"Thanks to a certain someone's care, my baby and I are both safe and sound."

"A blessing in disguise—I've finally found my true love. Some materialistic women must be kicking themselves right now."