His Secretary Lover Stole My Wedding Ring

I had just completed a batch of top-secret supplies when my grandmother told me the wedding was ready—everything set, waiting only for me to arrive.

She said the groom was the heir of a century-old aristocratic family: impeccable in both character and appearance, and, most importantly, he had promised that I alone would decide when to have children. In all matters, he would respect my wishes.

When my superior heard the news, he gifted me a ten-carat pink diamond rough he had long treasured, instructing me to have it made into my wedding ring.

After discussing it with my fiancé, Owen, he eagerly offered to take the stone himself, claiming he wanted to surprise me.

But on the wedding day, as I prepared to slip the ring onto my finger, I froze. Before me was a Hello Kitty ring, gaudy and childish, its band so loose it dangled even over my thin gloves. I couldn't wear it at all.

I instinctively thought Owen must have rushed the arrangements and gotten it wrong. With the ceremony only an hour away, I quickly dialed his number.

A woman answered instead—his secretary, Seraphine Wendle.

"That's right," she said airily. "It's a Hello Kitty ring. Hello Kitty is my spirit animal. Do you have a problem with that?"

Rage surged through me. "This is my wedding, my ring! What right do you have to turn it into Hello Kitty?"

Her laugh was mocking. "Your wedding? Let me be clear, you have no say in your own wedding. I'll do whatever I like. If I want you to walk down the aisle in a Hello Kitty mascot suit, Owen will indulge me."

She sneered again. "Tsk, look at you… thinking you're the bride. Don't flatter yourself. If you're not happy about the ring, don't marry at all."

Her arrogance left me speechless. Certain she had lost her mind, I demanded she pass the phone to Owen.

"Owen," I said coldly, "if you don't bring me a proper ring within the hour, you can stay busy bailing your little secretary out of jail."

The wedding was less than an hour away.

Neither my family nor my superior had arrived yet, but once they saw my bare hand without that pink diamond, they would never let it go. If Owen could present a suitable ring, at least I could find an excuse to cover the situation.

I heard a man's breath on the line. Taking it as him, I explained, "There's still an hour. Your family is the country's largest jeweler—getting another ring is hardly difficult. Just bring one quickly. And it can't be too small—at least six carats or more, otherwise—"

Before I finished, the call cut off. No matter how many times I tried, the line never reconnected.

Hadn't Grandma said Owen was the heir of a century-old aristocratic family? Was this attitude befitting of the heir of a century-old family?

I dropped the Hello Kitty ring, preparing to go find someone to help, when Seraphine sauntered in through the doorway.

"Owen is far too busy to waste time on someone as unpresentable as you," she said, her tone dripping with contempt. "Be a good girl—put on the gown, wear the Hello Kitty ring, and get on stage. Otherwise, if Owen loses his patience, he might just make me his bride instead."

She strutted to the vanity, slipped the ring onto her own hand, and it fit her finger perfectly. It was obvious who it had been made for.

Fury burned hot in my chest. "Seraphine, this isn't child's play. Stop it and get me a proper ring right now."

"Shut up, bitch! No one asked your opinion. This wedding is mine to command. You'll wear this ring on stage whether you like it or not. Oh, but your fingers are too small, aren't they? Perhaps I should help you."

Her eyes glittered with jealousy as she stared at my slender hand. Spotting a makeup case on the table, she picked it up and advanced.

"What are you waiting for?" she barked at the others. "Hold her down. I'll smash her hand until it swells—then we'll see if the ring doesn't fit!"

My patience snapped. "Seraphine, I'll give you one last chance. Call Owen here. Otherwise, you won't just answer to the police for this diamond. You'll pay a far heavier price."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Don't make me laugh. Is that diamond even yours? Everyone knows the Buckley family is the greatest jeweler in the country. You clearly stole it from them! The Buckley family belongs to Owen. You're nothing but a thief. Be grateful if I let you wear a blade of grass, let alone a ring."

I ignored her rant. If she were here, Owen must be nearby. He was probably just too busy with the wedding to answer the phone. Once I explained everything in person, surely he would take my side.

But as soon as I opened the door halfway, Seraphine shrieked.

"You dare ignore me? What are you all standing around for? Grab her! Grab her!"

Her face twisted with malice. "If you won't wear the ring, then you won't show your face at all!"

She plunged her hands into palettes of eyeshadow, highlighter, and foundation cream, mixing them into a filthy mess before smearing it across my face. She pressed hard against my eyes, nose, and mouth, cutting off my breath.

"Seraphine, are you insane? If I go out looking like this, the Buckley family won't spare you!"

She only laughed, cruel and triumphant. "Rachel, open your eyes and see who's holding you down."

Through the stinging pain, I forced my eyes open—only to find the doorway crowded with onlookers. They watched with relish. No one stepped forward to help.

Even a small child yanked a fistful of my hair, snarling, "Seraphine, this bad woman doesn't know her place. Let me help you and Uncle Owen teach her a lesson!"

Others chimed in one after another.

"Rachel, just apologize to Seraphine. Otherwise, she'll be unhappy, and Owen might decide you're too embarrassing to marry."

"Everyone knows Seraphine is Owen's favorite. He had to coax her for three days and nights, even giving her five percent of Buckley Group's shares, just to get her to agree to this wedding."

"Offend Seraphine, and you'll be miserable in the Buckley family. In fact, you might not even make it out alive today. Either way, Owen will clean everything up for her."

Seraphine tore off my gloves and stomped hard on my hand. "This is what happens when you oppose me. Even if you become Owen's wife, you'll still bow and scrape before me. Everyone in the Buckley family listens to me. If I say you don't eat, you'll starve. If I say you don't drink, you won't even get a sip of water!"

My fists clenched tight. I twisted and broke free from the ones restraining me, but I didn't dare strike back.

Before the wedding, my family and my superiors had warned me repeatedly:

"If something happens, keep calm. Don't lose your temper. And don't remove your gloves. You know what even one finger of yours can do to them."

But now my gloves had been stripped away, and my control was fraying. If I didn't hold myself back, Seraphine would soon discover the true disaster she had provoked.

Just as I reached out my hand, a glass of red wine splashed across my face. My eyes stung, my body shuddered uncontrollably.

And then a voice cut through the chaos, "What are you doing?!"