The Day I was Released From Prison, I Got Married

The day I was released from prison, ten wedding cars arrived at the prison gate to pick me up. The first snow of winter came right on time, as if it were part of the dowry.

A handsome man stepped out of one of the cars, pulling out a large diamond ring. He knelt on one knee at my feet, “Welcome home, Nichole Brennan.”

I stretched out my dirty hand. A flash of disgust crossed his face, but he still kissed my hand and, with a forced smile, slid the diamond ring onto my finger.

Ten meters away, paparazzi and Lydia Ashford’s spies snapped away furiously, their faces lighting up like they'd struck gold.

I sneered, wiping my nose deliberately with my hand and took Maxwell’s hand to get into the car. My time to revenge was coming.

——

Sitting in Maxwell’s Maybach, I changed into a wedding dress. When we arrived at the Ashford’s mansion, their servants lined up in two rows, respectfully calling out, “Welcome home, Mrs. Ashford!”

I stepped over the fire pot and entered the Ashford estate.

As expected, I saw Lydia, the one who framed me for theft and sent me to prison.

Lydia stood with her arms crossed, her eyes burning with contempt as she glared at me from across the room. She mouthed the word "bitch," her lips curling into a sneer, as if she believed her hatred could cut me down where I stood.

But instead of recoiling, I walked towards her with deliberate, slow steps, my smile growing wider with each one. The air between us felt heavy with tension, like a storm about to break. I leaned in close, my breath brushing against her ear as I whispered, my voice dripping with mock sympathy, “How does it feel, Lydia? Watching your dear brother marry me? Angry, aren’t you?”

Lydia's face flushed red with humiliation and fury. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape and I could see the wheels turning in her head. Desperate as ever, she planned her next move, ready to pretend to stumble and fall, hoping to frame me again in front of the gathering crowd. But I saw it coming from a mile away.

Before she could act, I let myself drop to the floor with a dramatic thud. The room seemed to freeze for a moment, as everyone turned to look. I clutched my arm as if in pain, my voice breaking as I called out, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why, Lydia? Why would you do this to me?” My wide eyes brimmed with tears, my face the perfect picture of disbelief. “Oh, I know what it is.” I paused, letting the silence stretch for a beat. “It's because I’ve been in prison, isn’t it? You despise me for it.”

I looked around, catching the eyes of those watching and then back at Lydia, who was frozen in place, her expression a mixture of anger and panic.

“You’re ashamed, aren’t you? Ashamed to have an ex-prisoner as your sister-in-law. I should’ve known... I don’t deserve to marry into the Ashton Family.” My voice cracked, as I choked back a sob.

“Fine, I’ll walk away,” I muttered, struggling to get to my feet, wiping away the crocodile tears streaming down my face.

Just as expected, Maxwell was at my side in an instant, his hand gently catching my arm, stopping me in my tracks. He wiped the tears from my cheeks, his touch soft, but his voice firm. “Don’t leave,” he said, turning his attention to Lydia with cold eyes.

Lydia’s fury exploded. She lunged toward us, trying to pry Maxwell away from me, her fingers clawing at his sleeve in desperation. “Maxwell, no! She’s manipulating you!” she screamed, her voice shrill with frustration. But before she could do anything more, Maxwell’s face twisted with anger.

In one swift motion, he raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the room, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. Lydia staggered back, holding her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she glared at me with a mixture of fury and betrayal.

“You hit me... for this bitch?” she spat, her voice breaking as she pointed at me, her body trembling with rage and humiliation. Maxwell’s gaze turned ice-cold, his expression hardening as he stepped toward her, his presence towering and imposing.

“Lydia,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “have you lost your mind? Where are your manners? How dare you act like this?” His tone was cutting, leaving no room for argument. “If you ever pull something like this again, I’ll throw you out of this house myself!” He took a breath, his anger palpable. “Now, apologize to Nichole.”

Lydia’s eyes flashed with defiance as she glared at me, her teeth clenched in frustration. She attempted to storm out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she turned to make her exit. But just as she reached the door, two bodyguards moved swiftly, blocking her path, their broad shoulders standing like immovable walls.

Maxwell’s voice rang out again, even colder than before. “You’re not going anywhere until you apologize.”

A tense silence fell over the room, the weight of his words pressing down on her. Lydia stood frozen, her breath coming in short, angry bursts as she stared at the guards in front of her, realizing there was no escape. After what felt like an eternity, she finally turned back to face me, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Her lips curled in barely contained fury as she gritted her teeth and forced out the words, “I’m sorry, Nichole.”

I smiled sweetly, the very picture of grace and understanding, stepping forward to close the distance between us. Gently, I reached out and touched her swollen cheek, the spot where Maxwell’s slap had left its mark. “It’s alright, Lydia,” I said softly, my voice dripping with false sympathy. “We’re in-laws now. We have plenty of time to get along.”

The rage burning behind her eyes was unmistakable, but there was nothing she could do. Maxwell stood by, watching her, his patience thin, his loyalty to me solidified in that moment.