"Forget it, I'll marry him!"

The moment Margot Johanson said those words, she suddenly felt a sense of relief.

She could hear her parents' voices full of smiles in her ears. "Gigi, we’re glad you’ve made up your mind. Your fiancé may be in a coma, but he’s quite handsome. 

“Although he’s been out for years, what if he wakes up? After all, he’s the one set to inherit the family business..."

Her parents, trying to persuade their own daughter to marry a comatose man, actually thought she was getting the better deal. 

They seemed convinced that no one else in the world would be foolish enough to take on such a situation. 

Margot smiled bitterly.

"Don’t worry. Since I’ve made up my mind to marry, I won’t back out. I won’t let your precious Maisie take my place."

“What are you saying? You’re our real daughter! Of course, your father and I can’t bear to part with Maisie…

“Besides, you know how it is—both Charles and Joey like Maisie. Letting her marry into that wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Now that the Stewarts are already preparing for the wedding, You should pack your things. In half a month, someone from their household will take you to Northwatch.”

Fred and Martha Johanson brushed her off with a few casual words before hanging up the phone.

As the screen dimmed to black, Margot Johanson couldn’t help but glance at the framed photograph on her desk.

In the photo, her parents, her older brother, Charles Johanson, and her childhood friend, Joey Griffin surrounded her as she stood in the center. She was dressed in a princess gown and crowned with a tiara.

Their faces radiated affection for each other.

At that time, a saying had circulated widely in their social circle: “Who wouldn’t want to be Margot Johanson?”

Everyone envied her for having parents who treated her like a precious jewel, a brother who doted on her endlessly, and a childhood friend whose world revolved entirely around her.

Margot, too, had believed she would spend her life wrapped in such happiness.

But at eighteen, she discovered the weight of a promise she never made.

It was an engagement arranged by her grandfather, Benedict Johanson before his passing.

Margot was deeply in love with her childhood friend Joey and thought her family would dissolve the engagement once she came of age.

But fate dealt a cruel twist—her fiancé, Dominic Stewart, became comatose after a car accident and to avoid being branded as unfaithful or opportunistic, the Johansons felt compelled to honor the arrangement.

Yet, the thought of sending their beloved daughter to care for a comatose man was unbearable for them, and they agonized over the situation.

In the end, the Johansons devised a solution—they adopted a foster daughter to take her place.

And so, Maisie Johanson, an orphan who had grown up in a shelter and wandered the streets, entered the Johanson household.

Feeling guilty for making Maisie stand in for Margot, the Johansons lavished her with affection.

Every month, her parents gave her seven hundred thousand dollars as an allowance while Charles showered her with an endless stream of luxury goods.

Even Joey bent over backward to fulfill Maisie’s every request.

Margot herself gave up everything she had without complaint.

When Maisie wanted her room, Margot gave it to her.

When Maisie wanted her trophies, Margot handed them over.

When Maisie developed kidney failure and needed a transplant, Margot offered her own.

Margot never imagined that Maisie’s character would be so vile.

After becoming part of the Johansons, Maisie repeatedly framed Margot for her misdeeds.

Over just five years, she schemed to steal all the love and attention that had once been Margot’s.

Charles fell for Maisie as did Joey.

Even Fred and Martha began hinting that they couldn’t bear to see Maisie marry into another family.

Instead, they subtly encouraged Margot to fulfill the marriage contract herself.

Margot was not someone who would break a promise. At first, she resisted only because of her mutual love for Joey and her unwillingness to leave her parents and Charles behind.

But now, since they all seemed to prefer Maisie’s company, she decided she might as well go through with the marriage.

After all, the marriage contract had always been hers.

Thinking of the date her parents had mentioned, Margot picked up a pen and circled the day on the calendar.

It was two weeks away.

Inside the red circle, she wrote the word “departure” before heading upstairs.

Just as she reached the second floor, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house.

Standing at the doorway were two familiar figures. It was Charles and Joey.

The two men hurried upstairs, and before Margot could react, they shoved her forcefully down the staircase.

“Ahhh!”

Margot tumbled down, her body crashing against the hard steps.

Her forehead struck the floor with a sickening thud, splitting open and leaving her head drenched in blood.

Agonizing pain radiated through her limbs and torso, cold sweat breaking out over her trembling body.

The two men at the top of the stairs showed no intention of helping her. Instead, they pulled out a phone and began a video call with Maisie.

“May!” Charles said with a smile. “Did you see us push Gigi down the stairs just now? Now you should believe how much more important you are to us. Stop throwing tantrums and come home, okay?”

Margot’s eyes flew open at his words and despite the agony, her gaze filled with disbelief and shock.

Had they hurt her so cruelly just to prove to the runaway Maisie that she mattered more?

On the other end of the video, Maisie was already sobbing with emotion, tears streaming down her face.

“I know you do, Charles. I won’t act out anymore. I’ll come home right away.”

At her response, both men exhaled deeply, their relief palpable.

After ending the call, the two men hurried downstairs.

“Does it hurt, Gigi?” Charles asked, his tone almost perfunctory.

“May said she felt insecure and needed us to prove it to her this way. We had no choice. She’s just a young girl who ran off in a fit of anger. We couldn’t let her wander outside alone.

“You’ll have to bear this for now—we’ll make it up to you later.”

Margot was in so much pain that she couldn’t speak.

Seeing her pale and trembling, the two men began to panic.

Just as they were about to take her to the hospital, Maisie’s delicate, tearful voice came through another phone call.

“I’m such a fool, Joey. I can’t even find my way home,” she whimpered.

At her words, both men tensed.

Without hesitation, they ended the call and prepared to leave to fetch her.

But as they reached the door, they glanced back at Margot, who was still sprawled on the floor, blood seeping from her wounds.

“Gigi,” Joey began, his tone almost dismissive.

“Maisie’s lost, and we’re worried she might run into trouble. You’ll have to get yourself to the hospital.”

And just like that, they abandoned her without a second thought.

Margot could only watch as their figures disappeared into the distance, leaving her behind in agonizing pain.

Using the last ounce of her strength, she struggled to call for an ambulance.

Blood continued to seep from the gash at the back of her head, soaking the fabric of her clothes until it turned crimson.

Before she lost consciousness, only one thought remained in her mind:

Later? There won’t be a later.

In two weeks, she would leave this city.

She would sever ties with all of them—completely and utterly.

When Margot opened her eyes again, night had already fallen.

She glanced around the empty hospital room, a cold smile reaching her eyes.

A nurse entered, holding her medical report. She briefly explained Margot’s condition and informed her to settle the bill and prepare for discharge the next day.

As Margot flipped through her medical records, the phone on the bedside table buzzed incessantly.

The messages were from Maisie.

Maisie had sent dozens of photos, each one flaunting her happiness.

In the images, Joey carried Maisie on his back, walking her home, while Charles, wearing an apron, cooked for her.

The two men surrounded Maisie, their faces brimming with affection.

Piled at their feet were heaps of extravagant gifts.

[Gigi] Maisie wrote smugly.

[Charles and Joey spoil me so much. I must be the happiest little girl in the world!]

Margot glanced at the messages but didn’t reply to a single one.

The next morning, after a night of rest, she completed her discharge procedures and returned home.

As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Charles, Joey, and Maisie gathered on the sofa, watching a movie together.

The two men flanked Maisie protectively. Charles fed her pieces of fruit, while Joey handed her a drink.

The bloodstains that had once marked the floor were gone, thoroughly cleaned away. No one seemed to care.

Margot averted her gaze and silently retreated to her room.

She pulled out a cardboard box and began packing. Piece by piece, she filled the box with belongings until it was overflowing.

Once it was full, she carried the box and walked out.

Not long after, the blaze outside caught Joey and Charles’s attention.

Noticing something was amiss, they both rose from their seats and stepped outside, only to see Margot standing before a large fire pit, throwing items into the roaring flames.

Their hearts sank.

“What are you doing, Gigi?” Joey demanded, his voice tight with alarm.

Margot didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she picked up a veil from the box and held it up, her gaze fixed on Joey.

“Joey, you gave me this when you were seven,” she began, her voice steady but cold.

“We were playing house, and you wouldn’t let anyone else be my groom. You said only I could be your bride.

“You gave me this veil and told me it would be the one I’d wear at our wedding someday.”

Then she tossed the veil into the fire.

The flames consumed it instantly.

Before the shock could register on their faces, she pulled out a charm and looked at Charles.

“Charles, you gave me this when you were fifteen. I was frail and constantly sick back then, always running a fever.

“You couldn’t bear to see me suffer, so you went to Fragrant Hills Church just to pray for my health and safety.”

Once again, Margot threw the item into the fire, her actions swift and resolute.

Next, she pulled out a love letter Joey had written when he confessed his feelings to her.

Then came the glass slippers Charles had gifted her.

After that, it was the princess dress Joey had once given her.

One by one, she threw each token of her past into the flames. Not even the photographs capturing her childhood and youth were spared.

Watching her methodically erase every memory they had shared, Joey could no longer stand it.

He surged forward and grabbed her hand in desperation.

“Gigi, I know you’re still upset about what happened yesterday,” Joey began his tone a mix of frustration and sadness.

“But Maisie is an adopted child. She has never felt secure, and soon, she’ll be marrying into the Stewarts in your place.

“Her days of happiness are numbered. This is something you owe her. Must you fight with her over everything?”

Charles looked at Margot with equal disappointment, a trace of anger creeping into his voice.

“You must have hit your head pretty hard. What Maisie is about to lose is her entire future happiness.

“Maybe Maisie was right—she said you’ve been spoiled rotten and lack even half her maturity!”

Margot shook her head slowly. “No, you’re both wrong.”

It wasn’t Maisie who was going to marry into the Stewart family—it was her.

Without offering any further explanation, she turned and gazed at the smoldering ashes in the fire pit.

Then, without another word, she headed back to her bedroom.

The next morning, as Margot prepared to leave the house, her eyes landed on a pile of gift boxes stacked by the door.

She recognized them instantly. They were from Joey and Charles.

In the past, whenever the two men angered her, they would never allow her to stay upset for more than a day.

Charles, in particular, would camp outside her room, his eyes red with worry.

“Gigi, if you don’t forgive Charles, he won’t leave. He’ll stay here until you do.”

Joey used to show up with a pitiful look, his arms full of gifts.

“Gigi, if you’re still upset, you can hit me or yell at me. Just don’t let it affect your health.”

But this time, neither of them came. Only a cold, lifeless pile of items awaited her.

Margot glanced at the gifts, her expression indifferent. With a self-deprecating smile, she threw everything into the trash can.

Just then, Maisie, who had just gotten up, appeared in the hallway.

She covered her mouth with her hand, feigning surprise.

“Why did you throw everything away, Gigi? Do you think these gifts are beneath you?” she asked in a sickly sweet tone.

“Oh, I told Charles and Joey that you’ve been spoiled since childhood and would definitely find these things unworthy of your attention. I even suggested they give you the original versions of what I have, but they insisted I keep them.

“I’m just a poor, lonely adopted girl, after all. You’re the true lady of the house, but look at how much they dote on you…”

A sneer tugged at the corner of Margot’s lips. Her voice was calm yet sharp. “Then congratulations. This house is all yours now.”

Without waiting for Maisie’s response, Margot turned and walked away, her steps steady and resolute.

Over the weekend, Margot decided to hike up to Serene Church.

She had heard that prayers made there almost always came true and decided to make one for Dominic, who was still in a coma.

She had heard he was once a remarkable figure, a gifted individual, the pride of the Stewarts, but a car accident had left him in a vegetative state for five years.

Now, as she was about to marry him, she thought, "In happiness and adversity we rise and fall together."

She would do everything she could to help him wake up.

Even if he never did, she would care for him for the rest of her life, with no one else by her side.

She walked slowly, her devotion unwavering. She had not expected to run into some familiar faces.

Charles and Joey had accompanied Maisie, their knees slightly scraped from the climb. All three looked equally stunned to see Margot there.

Maisie’s eyes were red. She touched her cheeks and spoke with a choked voice, “Gigi! Charles and Joey heard the miracles of this church, so they insisted on coming to pray for me…”

Margot ignored her and focused on her prayers, silently chanting in her heart:

"May the heavens bless our marriage, and may my future husband wake up and live a life of peace and joy."

Seeing her praying so devotedly, the three of them were all silenced.

After a while, Charles could no longer hold back and grabbed Margot’s arm.

"You've been pampered since childhood so what are you doing, running here like this? There are almost ten thousand steps before we reach the church. No one is worth all this effort from you!"

Margot smiled. "And Maisie is worth all that?"

Joey instinctively retorted, "May is different. She's the most important person to me."

It was clear that at seventeen, when he confessed his feelings to her, Joey had claimed that Margot was the only one he loved, yet now, the most important person had become Maisie.

Margot laughed through her tears.

"Yes, so the person I'm praying for is also the most important person to me."

With that, Margot withdrew her hand, took a few steps to the side, and slowly resumed her climb.

Looking at her determined expression, Charles sighed deeply.

"I understand now. You’re praying for me, right? Then this is enough. I don't need you to endure this suffering."

Joey looked at her with eyes full of pity. "Gigi, I don't need it either. Let it go."

Margot said nothing.

She glanced indifferently at them, then turned to face the front.

Her attitude sent a chill through Charles and Joey.

For the first time, they didn’t pay attention to Maisie and couldn’t help but follow her up the mountain.

Time passed slowly, and as evening approached, they finally reached their destination.

Margot, her knees covered in blood, painfully made her way into the church.

Near the entrance, she found a set of stationery to write down her prayers.

The two men, following closely behind, saw the initials "DS" written on the paper and frowned.

Obviously, it was not referencing either man.

"Who’s this DS?"

The moment Margot placed the written prayer into the wooden box near the table, Joey suddenly seized her arm.

His eyes were blazing with anger.

He could accept Margot praying for Charles, but beyond that, he could not tolerate any other man’s involvement.