Chapter 1

During the wedding rehearsal, my fiancé said he wanted to test the livestream, so he deliberately switched on the "streamer only" whisper function.

My best friend was the first to send a message:

"You messed up the wedding bed last night. Where's she going to sleep tonight?"

Bernard stood beside me, looking at his phone, and typed back:

"Have the cleaner change the sheets. She won't notice."

I asked him why messages kept popping up on the screen.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and turned the camera toward us.

"Everyone's saying how beautiful the bride is."

My best friend quickly sent another one:

"Once the baby's born, are you really willing to let her be its ready-made mom?"

Bernard lowered his head and kissed my forehead, but his fingers tapped out a line on the screen:

"She loves me to death. Even if she found out, she'd just put up with it."

I asked him with a smile whether whispers were really only visible to the streamer.

He flicked the tip of my nose.

"Of course. Otherwise, why would they call them whispers?"

But he forgot that this wedding livestream account was registered under my phone number.

Half an hour ago, to test the playback, I'd already synced the account to the big screen in the banquet hall.

Every single word he and his best friend had just said was automatically recorded by the system.

All that was left was for me to press play.

......

My finger rested on the play button.

The big screen was still dark, reflecting my ghost-white face.

One tap, and every word Bernard and Kay had spoken would appear in front of everyone.

But I didn't press it.

It wasn't that I couldn't bring myself to. It was that people from Clearwater Media, Skyline Live, and Blissful Weddings were sitting out there.

They weren't here for a rehearsal. They were here to look at the project.

I was the project lead at Skyline Live, in charge of the wedding livestream product plan, not the on-site acceptance on the day.

That was exactly why Bernard dared to package my wedding as a showcase model.

Clearwater Media was the investor, and the biggest client.

Bernard only knew I handled execution at Skyline. He didn't know the chairman of Clearwater was my uncle.

This livestream account was the real-name main account Skyline uses for couples to run test broadcasts, and it had to be tied to the couple's phone number.

Back then Bernard had coaxed me:

"Your account is clean, it'll clear review the fastest. We'll switch it over to the corporate entity after the wedding."

Only now did I understand that he'd wanted me to take the fall for the permissions all along.

Stephens Corp was behind on the final payment, and its loan renewal was stuck in risk control.

The Clearwater deal was the last plank the Stephenss had left.

But I never imagined he'd counted our wedding in too.

Bernard held me close, smiling gently and gracefully.

"Marilyn, look at the camera."

I didn't move.

He murmured a reminder:

"Don't make a scene. Everyone here today is a partner."

So it turned out that me standing here in a wedding dress was the sample he was handing to the investors.

The camera pushed in, and he adjusted my veil.

"The luckiest thing in my life is marrying Marilyn Fox."

On his phone, Kay sent another message:

"Didn't you say last night that the one you really wanted to hold on the wedding day was me?"

Bernard lowered his eyes and replied:

"I'm coaxing her in front of the camera. The contract can't fall through."

The emcee asked with a smile:

"Would the bride like to say a few words too?"

Bernard's hand pressed against the small of my back, a warning in it.

I looked at the camera.

"I think today will be unforgettable too."

He smiled, satisfied.

After the rehearsal, he pulled me into the dressing room and pushed the "Wedding Livestream Material Supplementary Authorization Confirmation Form" in front of me.

The last page read:

Authorization for wedding livestream content to be used for commercial promotion, platform case studies, and data placement.

I asked, "Why are you only telling me now?"

He said, "It's all part of the livestream project."

I gripped the pen.

"And if I don't sign?"

His face darkened.

"Marilyn, we're just one step away. Don't embarrass me."

A soft laugh came from the doorway.

Kay walked in carrying hot water, my wedding necklace around her neck.

When I told her to take it off, her eyes instantly welled up.

Sure enough, Bernard frowned.

"Marilyn, it's just a necklace. Do you really have to make an issue of it?"

I laughed.

"She's wearing my necklace, and I'm not even allowed to make an issue of it?"

Kay cupped a hand over her belly.

"Bernard, I'm not feeling well."

Bernard immediately steadied her.

I set the pen back on the table.

"I'm not signing."

Before I left, Kay leaned close to my ear:

"Marilyn, if you don't sign now, you'll still have to sign tomorrow."

"Bernard knows better than anyone—you can't stand to make the people around you look bad."

The door closed, and I pulled up the backend.

The whisper records, system logs, account sync information, test playback numbers—it was all there on the screen.

I was the one who'd modified this system for Skyline.

Test playback only recognizes real-name accounts. The project side can delete local materials, but they can't touch the account's original cache.

And to reassure Clearwater, Bernard had signed a joint risk-control agreement.

Once a verified account raises a dispute, Skyline freezes the project side's permissions, and Clearwater can pull the playback.

This was the knife he'd handed me himself.

I took screenshots and backed them up.