Chapter 3

I chuckled apathetically.

"I was never legally married to Thomas, so that makes me no fiancee of his. And doesn't the Warsh family still have Elsa? She's lived off them for twenty years as their adopted daughter–it's about time she showed some filial devotion."

I looked him straight in the eye.

"If she truly cared about his parents, she wouldn't choose to hold her wedding during the seventh-day mourning for their son."

His face darkened, but I was already moving to close the door.

Before it shut, he shoved an invitation through the gap.

"Elsa isn't holding a grudge over what happened last time, but her wedding is in two days. You'll come and do her makeup."

I run a beauty company and still take personal bookings. I was ready to refuse outright–until I learned Larry had already contacted one of my artists directly.

On the wedding day, my makeup artist called me in tears.

"Ms. Lancer… The bride says she hates the look. She's threatening to file a complaint!"

I rushed over immediately.

Backstage in the bridal suite, Elsa lounged with one leg crossed over the other. My makeup artist stood nearby, her face marked with two fresh handprints.

I took a deep breath and told her to leave.

"She's new and inexperienced. Don't blame her. I'll do it myself."

I picked up the brow pencil and began shaping Elsa's eyebrows.

As I worked, she spoke softly, "Dheena, you must be so jealous of me. Your husband just died–and here I am, getting married."

I did not respond. I focused on her brows.

Then her voice dropped lower.

"I actually know my brother isn't dead. He'd rather fake his death and change his face than stay with you.

"Dheena… You're a joke."

My heart clenched.

Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist.

Suddenly she screamed–and dragged a brow razor across the arch of her own eyebrow.

Blood welled instantly.

She shoved the razor into my hand.

"Larry! Help!"

He burst into the room and froze at the sight: Elsa bleeding, me standing there with the razor in my hand.

"What happened?!" Rage filled his eyes.

Elsa burst into tears. "Dheena, I know you're jealous of my wedding, but you didn't have to disfigure me…"

The bridesmaids chimed in, accusing me all at once.

I felt my heart tremble. "It wasn't me. She did it herself–"

The slap landed hard before I could finish.

"You're insane!" Larry barked. "Apologize to Elsa!"

I bit the inside of my cheek and stared at him. "What if I don't?"

He let out a cold laugh and turned, locking the dressing room door. "Then you're not leaving.

"Elsa got a few cuts on her face. You'll take ten times that."

Before I could even cry out for help, the bridesmaids rushed me.

"B*tch! How dare you bully Elsa!"

"Your husband's dead, and you can't stand anyone else being happy? Let's ruin that pretty face of yours!"

They shoved me to the ground.

Pain exploded across my face as the razor sliced into my skin again and again.

It hurt.

It was the kind of pain that tore the soul apart.

Through blurred vision, I met Elsa's taunting gaze.

I have a clotting disorder and, unfortunately for me, I had not brought my medication. If I bled too much, I could die.

Thomas knew that.

I sobbed and pleaded with him. "Please… Check the surveillance footage. I really didn't–"

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. He almost stepped forward…

However, Elsa looped her arm through his.

"Hubby, she already ruined my face. You wouldn't let her off, would you?"

Her voice quivered sweetly.

"This is my once-in-a-lifetime wedding…"

Larry's hesitation hardened into cruelty.

"You brought this on yourself," he spat. "You hurt Elsa and expect no consequences? You're twisted."

Somewhere, it felt like invisible comments were scrolling across the air:

[She's so vicious. She'll destroy her happiness sooner or later.]

[If she just kneels and apologizes, he'll love her again.]

I stared at Larry–no, at Thomas.

He watched me with cold detachment. Not a shred of warmth in his eyes.

The beating did not stop. They even tore off my clothes and snapped humiliating photos.

"This is your lesson. Call the police, and these will be everywhere."

I lay there barely breathing, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

"If Thomas were still alive… he would've protected me."

Larry's body jerked.

Then the wedding emcee came to summon them.

He left with Elsa and the bridesmaids without sparing me a glance.

The 'comments' kept rolling:

[She should reflect on herself.]

[As long as she serves Elsa properly from now on, he'll forgive her.]

I closed my eyes and dragged my battered body out of there.

When love died, the debt died with it.

"Thomas… this cursed bond between us is finally over."

The wedding went on as if nothing had happened. By the time it ended, I was long gone.

Later, Larry felt a trace of unease and called me. My phone was off.

He dismissed it.

"Dheena's just throwing a tantrum. I'll coax her later."

After the wedding, he took Elsa on their honeymoon.

Watching her smile in happiness, he could not help but remember the look of utter devastation in Dheena's eyes that day.

He sighed.

Elsa had always been spoiled. He knew it. He indulged her.

Due to social conventions, they could not be together openly, so he had given her a wedding.

Three more years. Once Elsa had a child, he would reclaim his identity and go back to Dheena.

He imagined her bursting into tears of joy when she saw him again. The thought made him smile.

…

When he returned to the country, he went straight to Dheena's apartment.

"Dheena, open up. I brought you a gift…"

He knocked for a long time. No answer.

An irritated neighbor poked her head out.

"Stop knocking so early in the morning!"

He hurriedly asked, "Auntie, where's Dheena?"

The woman frowned.

"She got married a month ago. The apartment's up for sale. You didn't know?"