Chapter 3

I took advantage of Ruijin being distracted by the voice and quickly dodged the knife, then looked to see who had come.

A woman in a sharply tailored, form-fitting white gown.

I recognized her—the bride of this wedding, the new wife my father had chosen: Isabella Cont. She was nothing like the gentle woman in the photos; right now she was overbearing and domineering.

Ruijin was delighted to see her mother—her backing had arrived—so she trotted over quickly to greet her. The cake knife was released, falling to the floor and glinting under the light.

"Mom, you're finally here! That bitch just slapped me!"

"She spends the money of the men who keep her on designer brands, and now she wants to seduce Dad here. On the surface she's a secretary, but behind the scenes she's up to all sorts of low, underhanded things—and she even dared to provoke me at the wedding."

Isabella Cont instinctively put an arm around her daughter, but frowned when she saw the chaotic scene.

She walked toward the center of the commotion, and the brooch glinting on the floor caught her attention.

Isabella Cont's expression changed abruptly, and she picked it up.

"Is this the French haute couture brooch set?"

"In the past twenty years, only three pieces have ever been made, and they haven't even gone on sale yet—how is it here?"

"I had Vittorio pull strings to reserve one for me, and even I couldn't get it!"

Hearing this, Ruijin ground her teeth and pointed at me.

"It all came out of this bitch's bag. Looks like Dad didn't fail to get it—he just let this bitch coax it out of him!"

Isabella Cont's gaze toward me instantly filled with hostility. She flung the brooch at me.

"So you're a mistress—and you even dared come here to throw your weight around."

I was so furious my head swam, and I could barely control my body.

It was bad enough that the daughter was rotten—the mother was the same kind of trash. I had bought her the new wedding gift she wanted, and without asking a single question, she insulted me.

I spoke coldly:

"Your brain must be malfunctioning. My identity isn't for you to guess at. Control your daughter—she just smashed something she couldn't afford to pay for, so you'll be compensating for it!"

Isabella Cont glanced at Ruijin and sneered at me:

"She could kill you and still not be punished, let alone just smash some things."

"As for you—daring to offend the princess of the Moretti family. You really must be tired of living."

Ruijin chimed in, then signaled to the bridesmaids beside her.

"Mom, isn't she just using her face and body to seduce men? Then let's scratch up her face, strip her naked, and take photos. I want to send them to the guests' group chat so everyone knows what kind of person she is."

What a vicious idea!

"You'd better not do this! You're just a young girl—who taught you such methods? Your mother?"

"If Vittorio knew you were such a cruel person, would he still be willing to marry you?"

I looked at Isabella Cont, and her expression froze at my words, furious at my provocation.

She stepped forward and picked up the cake knife.

"A mistress—threatening me?"

"No need for anyone else. I'll do it myself!"

The guests nearby, eager only to curry favor with the godfather's wife, pointed and whispered at me:

"Insolent and reckless—she's gotten so many benefits and still isn't satisfied. She's just asking for death."

"Making a scene like this—how disgraceful."

"Wouldn't it be better to just yield? Now she's really done for."

My face darkened.

I knew no one here knew my identity, and no one would step in to help—so why had I left my gun in the room?

I stared at Isabella Cont and clenched my fists.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"I'm warning you only once—if you try to scratch my face, don't expect to ever be recognized by the Moretti family, and don't expect to marry Vittorio."

Isabella Cont laughed mockingly:

"You think they'd listen to you? Between you and me, who's more important isn't obvious?"

"Vittorio won't hurt me for your sake—just like all those people before."

The bridesmaids closed in step by step, trying to grab my arms and restrain me.

But they were too weak, and they didn't know the techniques.

As long as the bodyguards didn't get involved, they couldn't do anything to me—including Isabella Cont with her knife.

"Bitch, stop!"

Ruijin screamed hysterically and lunged at me, holding a stolen gun.

I gasped—who had given her that? Afraid she'd fire in her agitated state, I had no choice but to do as she wanted.

"Go to that room in the corridor, or else..."

"Fine."

I was forced into that dark storage room. They left a few bridesmaids behind to carry out their revenge on me.

Just as the door was about to close, I found my moment and charged toward the doorway.