Chapter 3

That night, Irene apologized to me for three full hours before I finally calmed down.

I still had questions, but neither of us brought up the topic of meeting my parents again.

Instead, we quietly focused on preparing for the wedding.

I didn't expect to run into Duncan again while trying on my wedding suit.

"I don't care if someone already ordered it," he said loudly. "Whatever he paid, I'll pay double."

The store manager tried to explain politely. "It's not really about the money…"

"Do you even know who I'm marrying?" Duncan said with a smug grin. "It's the Trivetts from South Mistburg! In this whole city, who would dare go against them?"

When the manager saw me walk in, he looked like someone who had just been rescued.

"The suit was custom-designed for Mr. Presley," he explained quickly. "It was created to celebrate the designer's collaboration brand debuting at Preesia Fashion Week."

That only made Duncan's jealousy burn hotter.

"Honestly, the suit doesn't even look that special." He leaned close to my ear, his voice low and cold like a whispering snake. "But if it belongs to you, I want it even more."

The next second, his tone changed completely.

He turned around and collapsed dramatically into Chelsea's arms, his voice trembling like he was about to cry.

"Chelsea… Everyone keeps saying I'm the fake heir. That I'm not worthy of anything…"

Chelsea gently rubbed his head and comforted him softly.

"You're the Trivetts' future son-in-law. Nobody gets to pick on you. If you like the suit, just take it."

The store manager hesitated and looked at me helplessly.

I nodded.

I didn't mind.

After all, Duncan had spent months pushing himself to slim down, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference.

There was no way the suit would fit him.

Sure enough, a loud rip came from the fitting room.

A startled shout followed. When Duncan stepped back out, clearly furious, he stomped on the suit a few times out of spite.

That finished it.

The few decorative buttons left on the suit scattered across the floor like rain.

The manager quickly walked over, holding the bill. People nearby were already watching the scene like it was entertainment.

Duncan's face turned red with embarrassment and anger.

"Why are you rushing me?" he snapped. "If I can try it on, I can pay for it!"

But the moment he saw the number on the bill…

"What? Two million dollars?"

Duncan nervously glanced at Chelsea.

Samuel had only given them a budget of 200 thousand dollars. Even if Duncan begged, he wouldn't dare push it ten times higher.

"Chelsea, it's this stupid suit's fault. It scratched my hand, so I lost my temper…"

"It's fine," Chelsea said calmly. She signed the bill without hesitation. "But you'll have to explain it to my dad yourself."

Duncan froze for a second.

Her tone still sounded affectionate, but her eyes kept drifting toward me.

Even Duncan, who had been smug moments earlier, seemed to notice something strange.

I suddenly found the situation amusing.

I leaned closer to his ear and whispered softly, copying his earlier tone, "I'm wondering, what if Chelsea's actually helping me mess with you?"