Chapter 3

At that moment, a man who looked like a butler strode forward and announced in a ringing voice,

"The Gilbert heir of the Capital offers his bride gift: a pair of blood-jade corals, a chest of luminous pearls, three rows of townhouses in the Capital, ten chests of rare jade curios..."

As the butler read out the bride gifts one by one, everyone stared in shock at the sprawling array of treasures.

Someone finally came to their senses and cried out,

"The Gilbert family of the Capital—you mean the Gilbert family, the richest clan in the Capital?"

"Isn't Scott Gilbert just a researcher at the research institute? How did he become the Gilbert heir of the Capital?"

Scott Gilbert walked up to me and looked at me with a smile.

"My beautiful bride has an eye for a real hero, so naturally I can't let you down."

Just as he was speaking, Michael Henson pulled up in front of the hotel with a grand wedding convoy.

A Maybach led the line, followed by an unbroken fleet of Ferraris and Mercedes-Benzes...

Michael Henson stepped out of the car arm in arm with Myrtle Donaldson, and only then did I realize that Myrtle was wearing the exact same diamond-encrusted wedding dress as me.

I sneered. No wonder he called me vain—he was afraid I'd steal the spotlight from his sweetheart.

I just wondered whether, once I made him pay the bill himself later, Michael could cover all these luxury cars and wedding dresses even if he pawned the pants off his own legs.

Michael Henson walked up to me, a flash of amazement crossing his eyes, then he frowned and spoke impatiently.

"Renata, why are you still wearing this dress? Didn't I have a new one picked out for you? Go change it right now."

Myrtle looked at how stunning I appeared, then glanced at the costly bride gifts at the hotel entrance, shot me a vicious, envious glare, and yet said in an aggrieved little voice,

"Sister, I'm sorry, I didn't know I'd be wearing the same dress as you today. Michael said this one suits me best, so he had me wear it."

I looked at Myrtle coldly.

"Didn't know?"

"Myrtle, on the day of my wedding, you're wearing a dress identical to mine and hanging on my fiancé's arm. You've been meaning to take my place as the bride all along, haven't you?"

Myrtle's eyes instantly reddened with hurt.

"Sister, it's just a dress. How can you say that about me? Everyone knows how deeply you love Michael. How could I ever try to take him from you?"

The words were barely out when Michael immediately stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her, tenderly stroking her face.

"Renata, why are you being so nasty? Who I, Michael Henson, choose to love is my own business. Why would Myrtle need to take anything from you?"

As he spoke, he pulled Myrtle over to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in front of me.

"By the way, Myrtle says she's never been a bride before, never seen a joyous occasion like this. I'll hold this wedding with Myrtle first, to grant her wish."

"And by the way, give all your dowry to Myrtle. After all, she's the one having a wedding with me—it'd look shabby if she had no dowry."

I was stunned on the spot by how absurd Michael was. Even though I'd already given up hope, I couldn't help but press him one more time.

"And what about me?"

"You just stand off to the side and wait. Once Myrtle and I finish our wedding, then I'll go through the ceremony with you."

"Don't worry, I said I'd marry you, so of course I will. And of course, you'd better take care of those conditions I laid out—from now on you'll get along with Myrtle like sisters."

Looking at how Michael acted as if all of this were perfectly reasonable, I actually laughed out of sheer anger.

He wanted me to call an orphan my sister, to install a middle-schooler as CFO of my own Vaughn Group, and on top of that to walk off with the astronomical bride gift Scott Gilbert had given me.

Is his head packed with garbage?

In that moment, strangely, I wasn't angry anymore—instead, I felt nothing but gratitude toward Myrtle.

If it weren't for her, I really never would have known that the fiancé I'd grown up with was this shameless and low.

If I'd actually waited until we married, had children, and he'd climbed into the CEO's chair, I truly wouldn't have had any tears left to cry.

In that moment, I broke into a sweet smile.

"Fine, Michael, go ahead and have your wedding. I wish you both a happy marriage. I'll go to the back and change my dress."

After all, wearing the same dress as some slut—I couldn't stand the bad luck of it.