Chapter 4

The next day, as I woke up, I walked down the stairs only to find our house filled with Enzo’s family giggling and laughing, sitting around Stacy.

The moment Enzo saw me, he walked up to me. His voice was ice cold as he spat, “This is the time to wake up, Evelyn?”

“I have told you that we would be checking our wedding outfits, yet you are late for your own event.”

“Look at Stacy. She came here early, served my family like her own. Something that you should have been doing right now.”

I looked at Stacy. She was in her braided woman costume. Next to her hung my own wedding gown that looked so plain and cheap compared to the gown she had been wearing.

I watched Enzo's family appreciate Stacy for a mere cup of coffee she only helped our cook serve.

Back when any small or big event happened in the Watson family, despite being the Don’s woman, I would walk into the kitchen, do the dishes, prepare their favourite meals, and serve them myself, yet they never appreciated me.

“Your family never liked me, Enzo. What’s the point of even putting in the effort?”

Before he could speak one more word, throw one more insult. Stacy walked up to us.

“You two aren't fighting a day before your wedding, are you?” She joked, “Don't ruin your mood, Evelyn. I have a surprise for you.”

Before I could say no, she dragged me somewhere in the corner of the hall.

I looked up, and my heart instantly stopped beating.

The woman standing before me was none other than the mother who had sold me to feed her own greed.

Her voice echoed in my ears like a devil’s:

“Sweetheart, it’s such a huge occasion to get married—how could you not invite your mother? I’m here to congratulate you.”

In an instant, waves of terror and hatred surged through me like an electric shock.

Stacy suddenly leaned in, whispering into my ear with excitement:

“I heard this woman even asked her boyfriend to taste you. Tsk tsk tsk, to think you still have the peace of mind to get married here.”

“Besides, at such a happy, blissful moment, how could you be missing your family? Am I right?”

Looking at the witch who haunted my nightmares night after night, my eyes turned bloodshot.

“How do you know about these things?” My voice was trembling, and I looked terrifyingly unhinged.

Stacy’s eyes flicked toward Enzo, who was completely in the dark.

“One time when he made me cry, he told me this story to cheer me up. Oh dear, Evelyn, don't glare at me like that—”

SLAP!

I threw my fist straight at her face.

The next second, Enzo shoved me away with full force.

“Evelyn Richard, you're insane!”

“Stacy brought your family here for your wedding out of pure consideration for you, and you actually dared to lay a hand on her?!

Apologize right now!”

Stacy hid behind him, adopting a victor’s posture as she provoked me with her eyes.

I burst into laughter out of nowhere—laughing like a madwoman.

I had bared all my gruesome, unbearable scars to him, only for him to turn around and use them as a joke to amuse his assistant.

“Enzo Watson, do you realise what you are saying right now? Out of everyone here, you understand it better that this woman standing right before me can't be my family.” I spat.

“She isn't the same as before, Evelyn. She has changed and wants to atone for herself. You should give her another chance.”

“Also, I’m sick of your traumas. Perhaps this is the right way to cure it. Forgiveness is the key, Evelyn.” He spat like it was not a big deal.

But I only smirked at him.

“Since you are so sick of me, Enzo.” I said word by word, “Let’s break up. We are over.”

Enzo’s expression darkened instantly. A flicker of something like disbelief crossed his eyes.

I ignored him, went upstairs, grabbed my luggage, and left through the back door of the villa.

At this point, even saying goodbye felt like a tedious burden.

***

An hour before the ceremony, Enzo stood near the altar, meticulously adjusting his diamond cufflinks. A smug, satisfied smile touched his lips as he took in the grand church filling with high-society guests.

‘Evelyn is running late,’ he thought, checking his watch with amused indulgence. Typical.

He wasn't worried. Evelyn had spent years bending to his every whim, doing his family's dishes, enduring their insults, and chasing his approval. This wedding was everything she had ever dreamed of—her ultimate prize for enduring the fire.

She was probably just crying tears of relief, overwhelmed that she was finally becoming Mrs. Enzo W.Watson. She would show up. She always showed up.

His phone vibrated. Enzo casually answered, expecting his breathless bride on the other end.

Instead, his assistant paled as he approached the altar, whispering, "Mr. Watson, the salon called—Miss Evelyn canceled her hair and makeup appointment last night.”

Enzo frowned, his confidence flickering. Before he could speak, his wedding coordinator rushed up, tablet in hand. "Sir, the bridal boutique just confirmed Miss Evelyn never picked up her gown, and the florist said her personal bouquet was called off."

Enzo’s chest tightened as a final notification flashed on his screen from the venue manager:

[Wedding reservation canceled by the bride at midnight.]