Chapter 3

We spent half an hour submerged in the icy water.

Only when Lily and I had turned blue and nearly lost consciousness were we dragged ashore like limp corpses.

Adrian looked down at us as we trembled violently.

“Are you clear-headed now? If you still haven’t had enough, I can make sure the Lowe and Shaw family stocks come crashing down tomorrow.”

Threats were Adrian’s favorite weapon.

In the past, I always compromised and humbled myself to complete the mission.

But now…

My hands trembling, I wiped the water from my face and forced a smile through the pain.

“I understand now, Mr. Sinclair. You're right.”

Lily lowered her head as well, her voice hoarse and broken. “I understand now, too.”

When Adrian saw that we had finally backed down, a flicker of satisfaction crossed his eyes.

Vincent merely snorted and tossed a towel over Lily’s head.

“This could have been avoided if you’d listened from the beginning.

“The wedding is tomorrow. Don’t show up looking like you’re attending a funeral.

“Belle is in poor health and can’t handle much. As her friends, you’ll take care of her throughout the wedding tomorrow.”

How absurd.

Tomorrow’s wedding was supposed to be ours.

Yet now, was it going to be a celebration for him and Belle?

Lily and I exchanged a look, and we saw the same resolve in each other’s eyes.

It was the deal we made with the system.

If we were leaving, we would make sure everyone remembered it.

That night, we were confined to the villa.

Lily and I lay on the same bed, holding each other for warmth.

Her high fever refused to break, and even while delirious, she kept murmuring, “Vincent, don’t go…”

My heart felt as though it had been cut open, and tears slipped silently down my cheeks.

We had once been beloved heiresses, adored by everyone. For those two men, we sacrificed not only our dignity but nearly our lives as well.

“Lily, just hold on a little longer.”

I whispered softly in her ear.

“Tomorrow, it all ends.”

The next day, the city’s highly anticipated “wedding of the century” was held at a six-star hotel owned by the Sinclair family.

The absurd part was that this was supposed to be the wedding of Adrian and me, and Vincent and Lily. Yet Belle hijacked it and turned it into her own grand celebration.

Inside the dressing room, Belle twirled in front of the mirror, wearing the designer wedding gown that was supposed to be mine.

“Clara, Adrian said this dress suited my complexion better. You don’t mind, do you?”

She smiled with perfect innocence, as if she were the one marrying Adrian today.

I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed in a plain bridesmaid gown.

Just last night, Adrian said casually, “Belle grew up without parents and has always dreamed of wearing a wedding dress. Just let her have this one day.”

I could let her have everything: my wedding, dress, and man.

I stared at Belle’s reflection without expression.

“I don’t mind. If you like something that belonged to a dead woman, you can have it.”

Belle’s face stiffened. “What do you mean?”

I ignored her and walked out.

The real show was about to begin.