Chapter 3

Inside the car, the drug began to take effect.

A wave of heat surged from deep within Diana's body as her consciousness gradually blurred. She felt an unnamed fire building inside her, slowly burning through every limb and vessel. She felt hotter and hotter; the heat left her parched, her entire body burning.

Something wasn't right.

As a medical prodigy, Diana knew every subtle change in her body intimately. Clearly, this "new drug" Wade mentioned wasn't as simple as he'd claimed!

What were they trying to do? Make her humiliate herself on her wedding night, completely offending the Russell family?

The heat waves grew increasingly fierce, threatening to devour her rationality. She forced herself through the wedding ceremony—a mockery without a groom present.

The guests' glances were filled with sympathy, pity, and undisguised schadenfreude.

"So this is the substitute bride? She's pretty, what a shame she'll be married to a vegetable."

"I heard Rupert Russell is down to his last breath. The York family must be desperate for money to push their daughter into this hellhole."

"What daughter? I heard she was found in some backwater place—the unwanted one. Otherwise, why would they give her this 'opportunity'?"

The current head of the Russell household, Rupert's uncle Cruz Russell, maintained a serious expression throughout, seemingly indifferent to the wedding.

After the tea ceremony, Diana used her last ounce of strength to push open the door to the bridal chamber. She slammed it shut, blocking out everything beyond.

The room was dark, heavy curtains blocking the evening light.

The drug fully unleashed its effects. Diana's vision blurred completely, everything before her becoming double images. Her body burned hot, melting like wax. Operating on instinct alone, she steadied herself against the wall and staggered forward.

Through her hazy vision, she made out a tall, imposing silhouette. A man stood by the bed, radiating an intense coldness.

Was it a hallucination? That icy chill was a deadly temptation to her now—and her only antidote.

The heat waves inside her grew stronger, her rationality nearly consumed. She could no longer hold herself up. Her body went limp, her hand slipping from the wall. Using her last bit of strength, she lunged toward the blurry figure.

With a thud, Diana crashed into a solid, cold embrace. The man's tall frame didn't budge, but the frigid aura surrounding him—like the peak of a snow-capped mountain—instantly enveloped her.

Diana, like a dying fish finding water, couldn't help but release a satisfied sigh. Her entire body pressed against him, her arms involuntarily wrapping around his neck.

"You're the bride from the York family?" The man's voice was hoarse, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.

His icy presence was Diana's only salvation at that moment. She barely heard what he said—her muddled mind fixated on a single thought: hold onto this ice floe.

She pressed closer, her hands restlessly climbing up his crisp suit, fingers searching to undo his shirt buttons, desperate to draw more of his cooling presence.

Her small hands reached for his collar as Diana recklessly moved even closer, greedily absorbing the coldness that could extinguish the fire within her.

She tilted her head up, instinctively pressing her burning lips against his.

The man's body suddenly tensed. He gripped her wrists with such force that he nearly crushed her bones. In a dizzying moment, she felt herself lifted off the ground, carried away by an irresistible force.

Diana was brought into an even colder space.

Ice-cold water poured over her head, forcibly pulling her back to partial consciousness. Her rationality fully returned amid the stabbing pain in her chest and the coldness enveloping her body.

Diana awkwardly braced herself against the cold wall, wiping water from her face and struggling to open her eyes. Her vision gradually sharpened from blurry to clear.

Before her was a face so handsome it was almost aggressive. High bridge nose, thin pressed lips, features like a masterpiece carved by gods. But those bottomless eyes churned with coldness and scrutiny she couldn't comprehend.

That figure and commanding presence was unmistakably the "ice mountain" from before. This was no hallucination.

But who was this man? Her new husband, Rupert Russell, was supposed to be lying in bed—a vegetative patient who couldn't move. Yet this man not only stood before her but had thrown her into a bathtub.

The York family's scheme crystallized in her mind. Idris, Dash—they had calculated well. This drug not only mimicked heart failure symptoms but was designed to make her behave shamefully on her wedding night, thoroughly angering the Russell family and leaving her with nowhere to go.

That way, they could legitimately claim all the bride price, and she—having signed the family severance agreement—would die without recourse.

A truly cunning plan.

"On your wedding night, you're this desperate to find another man? How does that honor your dying husband?" The man's deep voice echoed in the spacious bathroom, tinged with amusement and undisguised mockery.

Diana's mind finally cleared completely. Far from showing embarrassment at being caught, she curved her lips into a bewitching smile.

"And who might you be?" Diana raised her hand, extending a slender finger to lightly touch his well-defined chest. "In this massive bridal chamber, besides me, the bride, shouldn't there only be one 'nearly gone' vegetative husband?"

Diana lifted her dripping wet hand and grabbed his tie, yanking it downward. She tilted her head, leaning toward his ear, her warm breath caressing his earlobe, her voice as soft as a lover's whisper.

"Or perhaps... you're a 'surprise' arranged by my dear brothers, afraid I wouldn't die quickly enough? Well, I'll take whatever comes."

With that, Diana pressed her lips directly against his.

As their lips met, she ignored the dangerous emotions swirling in his eyes. Just before he could react, she braced her other elbow against the edge of the bathtub and gracefully flipped herself out. The movement was fluid, without a moment's hesitation.

Diana stood outside the tub, looking at the man she'd just tricked, her face wearing a victorious smile.

Turn, close, lock—a crisp click separated their two worlds.

Let the man in the bathroom reflect on the price of being an intruder.

She turned and left the bridal chamber. Though the cold water had suppressed most of the drug's effects, remnants still coursed through her.

Diana wanted to find the butler and retrieve her suitcase—the small medical robot inside might prove useful. Only by completely purging the drug from her system could she truly be safe.

However, as soon as she stepped out, she encountered Rupert Russell's stepmother—her mother-in-law—Alvina Russell, whose clothes were slightly disheveled.

Seeing Diana, she frowned with displeasure. "How inconsiderate! Where do you think you're going? You're supposed to take care of Rupert at this hour."